Connected (Bureau #12)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

K eaton was doing the best he could to stop Owen’s bleeding. He’d taken off his shirt, torn it into strips, and held a folded strip against each of Owen’s cheeks. The contact stung, but Owen didn’t complain.

“You’re getting coal dust in these wounds,” Keaton said. “You’re going to end up with nasty scars.”

“Don’t care.” Owen shifted on the floor and wondered where his clothing had gone. And his phone and weapons and wallet. Keaton had jeans, shoes and socks, and the now-ruined shirt, but his wallet and phone were gone too. So were the keys to both cars.

“I should go get help,” said Keaton.

“We’re miles from anywhere, and it’s still miserable outside. We’ll be okay until morning unless Miller comes back.”

“He’s not going to. I think we broke him.”

“You mean you broke him.”

Keaton sat so close that their upper arms touched. They both leaned back against the wall. It wasn’t especially comfortable, but Owen, still wobbly, wasn’t keen to go wandering around the tipple barefooted and bare-assed in the dark. He was fairly certain that even if he did, he wouldn’t find a Jacuzzi or feather bed.

“We did that together,” Keaton said, voice contemplative. “You were spouting positive emotions like a firehose. I channeled them into him along with mine. I’m not sure mine alone would have been enough.”

“But exactly what did you do? I don’t understand it.”

Keaton made a noise halfway between a chuckle and a sigh. “Me either. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve been able to read other people’s emotions. They flow into me. This is the first time I reversed the stream. I never knew I could. And unlike you, Miller was a whole lot of ugly surrounding a gaping void. When that void filled with our good stuff, it… it was like a chemical reaction. Boom.”

Owen turned this over in his head for a while. It was a slow process. His brain was not doing its best. “I don’t think this is the first time you’ve projected emotions.”

“Oh?”

“You were a really good actor. That’s not just me speaking. Everyone thought so. Critics, the media. They talked about what a promising career you had ahead of you?—”

“Until I fucked it up.”

Owen patted Keaton’s knee. “Not my point. What does a really good actor do? They project emotions so that the audience feels them too.”

“I…. Huh.” Keaton was silent for a moment. “Never thought of it like that. It certainly wasn’t something I did consciously. Was I cheating? I feel like maybe I was cheating.”

“You were using the talent you were born with. That’s not cheating.”

This time the sigh was louder, and Keaton rested his head on Owen’s shoulder. Which actually hurt a little, but everything hurt right now, and Owen didn’t want him to move. It felt right to have Keaton against him.

“Yeah, it’s nice for me too,” said Keaton a little absently.

It hurt when Owen smiled. He didn’t mind that either.

Owen dozed off for a while, and when he woke up he found himself flat on his back with his head pillowed in Keaton’s lap. The rain had stopped and a faint light had begun to sneak in through the high windows. It gave enough illumination for him to see Keaton looking down at him.

“You’re a mess,” Owen commented.

“I bet I look better than you do.”

“You look like a hero.”

Keaton blinked at him. “I’m not?—”

“Saved my life. Neutralized the bad guy. Seems pretty heroic to me. But why the hell did you come here to begin with?”

“I knew you were in trouble. I felt it.”

“All the way at your house? I thought your range was more limited.”

“Me too.” Keaton finger combed his beard. “I called your boss, but he said not to contact the cops?—”

“He was right about that.” Sometimes local law enforcement could be helpful, but they weren’t trained for the types of situations that Bureau agents dealt with. So even when they weren’t intentionally obstructive, they rarely helped and sometimes made things worse. On occasion they got themselves killed. Owen was fairly certain that Miller would have had no trouble working his finger mojo on the Copper Springs PD.

“Maybe so, but it left you high and dry. He said he’d send someone, but no way they’d get here in time. So I guess it had to be me. Not that I expected to be useful, but I couldn’t just sit all safe and cozy while you were suffering.”

Owen felt more content than he had in ages. Which was ridiculous, but it made Keaton smile. “Like I said, K. You’re a hero.”

“I have a nickname now? Maybe you’re O. Which means together, we’re OK.”

“Are we?” Owen tried not to hold his breath as he waited for the answer.

“Yes.” Keaton ran a finger down the bridge of Owen’s nose and rested the tip lightly on Owen’s lips. Maybe he was simply avoiding the wounds, but the contact was surprisingly erotic. So much so that Owen’s cock stirred, even though it had no business doing anything under the present circumstances.

And Keaton, who either saw what was happening or felt Owen’s arousal, raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?” He seemed amused, not annoyed.

“You do it for me. You always have. Still do.” Owen reached up and stroked Keaton’s cheek. He wanted to taste every bit of him and feel that beard against his skin. If he was honest with himself, although he’d had plenty of sex over the years, there had never been anyone for him except Keaton.

“We’re connected,” Keaton said. “But you need to know—I haven’t had sex with anyone in… god, over eight years. Because it’s just too difficult when I can feel the other person’s emotions, and when the other person….” He made a face, and Owen understood. Sometimes it was better if you didn’t know what was going on in your sex-partner’s head.

“But with us?” Owen asked.

“It’s going to be fucking spectacular.”

They both knew it, as did Owen’s cock, which clearly didn’t care that they were filthy and stranded in a coal tipple.

Keaton laughed. “Let’s find a way to get home, get cleaned up, and get some rest. Then I’m all yours.” He bent down for an awkward kiss?—

And an enormous bird came sailing through one of the glass-free windows.

Keaton yelped and threw himself protectively over Owen, which was brave of him but meant that Owen didn’t have a good view of what was going on. Keaton went still for a moment before raising his head to stare at the intruder.

“Holy hell,” he breathed.

Owen finally got a good look at the intruder and let out a long sigh of relief.

“Keaton Gale, meet Tenrael the demon.”