Nightcrawler (Trackers #1)

Chapter Seven

RAVEN

After the door closed behind Trigg, I noticed he’d left his tablet on the bedside table. I repositioned the kitten so I could hold it with one hand and reached for the device, surprised when it turned on right away, and wasn’t password protected. I nearly fell out of the chair when I spotted one of my older reviews on the screen. It had to have been what he was reading when I woke up this evening. He’d laughed and said Nightcrawler was his favorite reviewer. I could barely believe how ironic that was, and it brought a huge smile to my face.

Book title: Lord of the X-Files

Author(s): br Murphy and BA Richards

Publisher: Self-published

Genre: Action/Adventure, Paranormal/Sci-Fi fiction

Review/rating by Nightcrawler: 1 star, DNF at 85%

Synopsis:

A pair of police detectives are drawn into the world of the paranormal and science fiction while out on patrol one night. They encounter a blinding light in the sky followed by a spaceship landing on the road right in front of them. When a tentacled monster deposits the corpse of a dead werewolf on the street before flying away, they are flabbergasted. The detectives stumble upon a series of aliens and paranormal creatures as the book goes on.

My Review:

My first thoughts were that this book felt almost autobiographical since one of the detectives is named BM Murphy, and the other, BS Richards. I decided to ignore the similarities to the authors’ names as I began to read, since it is listed as fiction, but two chapters in, decided that indeed these two authors must be writing about themselves.

I wanted to take a loose BM every time I opened this book…filled with BS.

Anyway, as your servant, dear readers, I slogged through nearly the entirety of this book to try to give you my honest opinion, only slamming it closed when my eyes started bleeding. After all…who doesn’t love paranormal and sci-fi combined with action and adventure? I never have a problem suspending reality when reading in this genre where worlds are contrived. My problem stems from the fact that the two detectives were so obtuse, they didn’t know what they were dealing with, half of the time. And, what I mean by that is… all of the time .

The authors would explain, with excruciating detail, what the creatures were, and then BM and BS would claim them to be humans in disguise, simply ignoring the fact that humans don’t have four feet or twenty-five toes on each. They treated them like any old perp…even when they had to use—in one case—nine sets of handcuffs after an arrest to bring the creature into the station. Once there, the creature—who has magically removed his handcuffs—declares himself to be Lord…of what…is never explained. Lord of the handcuffs is my guess. He then releases all the prisoners in the holding cells and kills everyone working there…except BM and BS. Go figure.

It's no wonder this book has such an incredible number of one-star reviews. Readers leaving them are pissed that the two main characters are total idiots. As revenge—I’d guess—other reviewers have shared the book’s ending and I confess to reading them. I’m almost disappointed that I didn’t read through to the end of the book where—

(Spoiler Alert Below)

…the creature, once in the station, grabs both detectives and pulls off their masks to reveal clear domed skulls encasing miniature brains…reinforcing my earlier hypothesis that the book is autobiographical after all.

I wish I’d read to the end.

I put the tablet back on the table, leaving it where I’d found it as I smiled at my own humor. Looking down at Stanley, I was now convinced I’d misread so many things about Trigg. I had to remember to ask him where the nickname came from. His real name was Miguel Huerta, and I’d researched him after running into him at the Capitol Records building. I liked Miguel a lot better than Trigg but who was I to decide what name he preferred to answer to. After all, I’d changed my own name before coming to L.A.

I knew Cassidy Ryan, and Mike Williams, two LAPD detectives I respected very much, had known him as Miguel. I’d heard them call him by his real name and he’d only corrected Cassidy once and even then, very quietly. It was clear that Trigg had a lot of respect for them and they seemed to have known him for a long time. I promised myself I’d find a way to ask about their past at some point, maybe after getting to know him a little better myself.

After all this mess, I really hoped I’d have the chance to do that.

Miguel Huerta was a fine-looking man, and he was exactly the kind of guy I liked in bed. He had a military buzz cut which was just a little longer on the top of his head, but I could tell that if he let it grow out, it’d be curly. That’s something I wouldn’t mind seeing at all. Most of all, though, I liked his hooded, dark eyes, so chocolate brown they looked nearly black in low lighting. The intensity of his stare when he looked at me—really looked at me—made my legs weak. And the fullness of his lips made me think dirty thoughts about all the things I wanted to do to them every time I looked at his mouth.

He didn’t give me any indication that he was gay, but I’d caught him looking away a couple of times when I’d caught him checking me out. I knew I was being hopeful that his regard for my less than clothed state and the way he’d cared for me over the last twelve hours wasn’t all therapeutic in nature. Having known I was gay all my life meant that I was almost never wrong about a guy’s sexuality. I glanced around the dingy apartment. It screamed bachelor but then again, maybe he only met girls at their place.

I glanced down at Stanley, once again knowing that any man who could care as much as he did about a tiny kitten, had to be a good guy. He treated Stanley like gold. The little guy had come running to him the minute he’d opened the door. It wasn’t until he caught sight of me, that he’d turned and run away. At the time, I remembered thinking maybe he didn’t like strangers but when I’d woken up and seen how much blood had soaked into Trigg’s sheets, I’d realized it was probably the smell of that much blood on me that made the kitten take refuge under the bed.

I glanced over at the ruined mattress once more, deciding then and there to offer to buy a new one. I hated the very idea of him falling asleep on it, even with clean sheets. When I’d woken up lying on Trigg’s pillow, I’d caught the scent of sandalwood with just a hint of citrus. I confess, I’d deliberately turned my head—the only thing I could do without hurting too much to breathe—and inhaled his scent. The unmade bed he’d laid me down in hadn’t smelled of sex, something I would have understood, since I’d guessed Trigg was single. It hadn’t smelled of sweat or dirty, old socks, which I was sure I could recognize from my years as the dorm roomie of a jock, who stunk all the time.

Fortunately, my roomie, Nate, had a girlfriend who washed out his jockstraps at her place, so any temptation to sniff them after a match—had I been the freakish stalker type—never came into question. Nate was still a good friend who gave me endless grief over why I wasn’t yet coupled up like he was when he’d married Gloriana, the love of his life, last June. I’d proudly stood at the altar with Nate as his best man as she’d walked down the aisle. Gloriana was—true to her namesake—glorious that day, gowned in flowing satin and lace, and Nate had burst into tears after they kissed. My boy—still one of my best friends—and his bride had been so happy and the wedding so sweet. Nate hadn’t even objected to wearing a crown of flowers in his hair as long as she did the same.

I smiled, thinking about my close ties and wondered how many close ties Trigg had. He was a Marine…a Recon Marine. I yawned and then shifted Stanley to one arm and reached for my phone which lay on the bedside table, wincing only a little as I retrieved it, and called up the U.S. Marine Corps home page on Google. I read that Military Recon MOS (short for Military Occupational Specialty, I learned) was a term used to describe a wide range of jobs. There were more categories than I could possibly imagine and as I read over them, my feeling of curiosity finally ebbed…as sleep clouded all else and I drifted off.

TRIGG

I walked into the apartment after midnight carrying my basket of clean sheets and looked over at my easy chair. Raven was sleeping, clutching his phone with one hand, and still cradling Stanley with the other. He looked beautiful in sleep, and I took a few seconds to admire him even though I’d done that once today already. He had perfect features, as if carved out of marble or rock. I thought he would have made the perfect model for any Greco-Roman sculptor of the day. If he’d been alive during the Italian Renaissance, I would have bet money that had Bernini or Michelangelo found him, they’d have used him as a model. Raven Mathis was a perfect male specimen and a man who’d never in a million years have looked at me twice, if we hadn’t been rivals on these two cases.

I grunted in displeasure as I remembered the mail I’d collected from the community mailbox downstairs while I’d waited for my sheets to dry. I set down the basket of sheets and then pulled the envelopes from my back pocket. Most were bills and late notices…one from my cell carrier, another from the DWP—the Department of Water and Power—a red notice. They were informing me that my electricity and water would be shut off this coming Friday if my seventy-nine-dollar bill wasn’t paid.

I set the pile of bills down on the counter, not ready to deal with all that crap at the moment, thanking God that my other utility—gas—was included in my rent payment. Worst of all, my landlord had sent me a notice that they were holding off eviction proceedings for back rent if I would vacate my apartment in the next ten days and promising that all costs would be paid by me if I lost any appeal in court, which I most surely would.

I thought about a job Jamie had offered me with a big payday. I’d turned it down in favor of Gemma Monroe’s prosthetic retrieval. But at this point, I knew I’d have no choice but to take it…if Jamie hadn’t already assigned it to another fugitive retrieval agent who’d already snatched it up. This one came with a whopping sixty-thousand dollar payday which meant I’d walk away with twelve grand after Jamie took his cut. The reason I’d turned it down was because of the fugitive himself.

At six-four, I was a big man, but this guy was a beast. At nearly six-nine and well over 300 pounds, taking him into custody wasn’t going to be easy. He was a longshoreman who Jamie had found working down at the Port of Long Beach under an assumed name. He was accustomed to lifting crates that routinely weighed half his own body weight and since longshoremen were unionized, I could only assume he was also a bully. So much of a bully that a legit longshoreman wouldn’t be willing to confront him or turn him in to their bosses. To top it all off, the guy had been a meth head, and probably still was. His drug test results weren’t in the file, and I wondered if his parole officer hadn’t pushed the issue. I hated meth heads. They were unpredictable as hell and incredibly dangerous when they were tweaking. If he was loaded when I went to arrest him, he would fight me like hell and even if he wasn’t, there was still a better than average chance I’d get hurt.

I looked over at Raven who slept peacefully. If he was in any shape to help, I might have just asked him to ride along with me. It would be better to have half a recovery fee than nothing at all. Any way I sliced it, I’d have to go see Jamie in the morning and explain what happened with Gemma’s boobs and then throw myself at his mercy to try to get some work out of him.

I sighed and grabbed the clean sheets to make the bed. Stanley woke up as I walked over, lifting his head, and blinking several times before putting it back on his paws. Raven didn’t even stir. I finished making the bed and stood over him, looking down at the man. If I didn’t need the chair to sleep in, I wouldn’t disturb him at all. It’d be rude to take the bed after all the effort I’d taken to make him more comfortable on clean sheets. Lord knows, I’d slept in much worse places.

“Raven,” I said, leaning down. “Wake up, Raven.” He didn’t stir, so I reached for his phone, starting to slide it free from his hand. His eyes popped open as his fist tightened around it, almost like a reflex.

“Trigg?” He blinked several times as if he was trying to remember where he was.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I straightened. “Sorry to wake you. I was trying to move your phone so I could get you into bed.” I felt my face redden as I tried to claw the words back. Too late. He sent me a lazy, sleepy smile filled with so much sensuality it made me weak in the knees. He looked down at his phone and when its facial recognition software turned it on, I was shocked to see it open to the Marine Corps section of a page showing what looked like a job description for Recon Marines. Before I could be a 1000 percent sure, he clicked the button on the side and the screen went dark. But it was too late. I’d seen what I’d seen. While I was out doing laundry, apparently Raven had been doing a little research on me. It was the only reason he’d have that page open.

“You could have just asked, you know,” I said, pointing down at the phone and then holding my arms wide. “I’m an open book.”

“You conceited piece of crap,” he said, gazing up at me. “How do you know it had anything to do with you?”

I smirked at him. “It did. You’re curious about me and why wouldn’t you be? I’m kind of awesome.”

“You’re kind of a gas bag.”

I laughed.

Stanley stood up, having been woken by our conversation, and arched his back before jumping to the ground and toddling off in the direction of the kitchen where his food and water bowls were.

“He’s a total doll,” Raven said, nodding to the kitten’s swaying butt.

I smiled, realizing almost too late that I’d been doing a lot of that since this morning when I’d seen Raven for the first time in six months. I wasn’t so sure I liked it. “Yeah, he is a cute little guy.” Raven sat forward and I saw him wince. “Here,” I said, holding out both hands. “Let me help you get into bed and then I want to take another look at those bandages.” He was still bare-chested even though I’d given him a pair of sleeping pants. It had occurred to me that I should have offered him one of my T-shirts since we were almost the same size, but just getting him into it might have caused him more pain.

“Thanks, Trigg.”

“No problem. Here.” He took my hands, and I hauled him out of the chair and then helped him into bed. It wasn’t easy for him; I could tell he was in pain. “Here…sit on the side of the bed so I can undo those wrappings,” I said. “I’m not going to take off the bandages but at least I can see if you’re bleeding enough to change them.”

“I really don’t want to bleed on your sheets again,” he said as I bent over him and began unwrapping the large compression bandage Vonne had put on earlier. I caught a whiff of his shampoo as I worked and let the scent wash over me. After checking his bandage and finding only a little blood had seeped through, I rewrapped him.

“How’s that?”

He nodded. “Good, thanks.” When he paused, I could tell something else was on his mind. He looked up at me. “I hate to ask but I could really use another trip to the bathroom. Do you want to stand on the other side of the door again?” He smirked at me.

I cracked a smile. “Asshole.” I stood there while he got to his feet, keeping a close eye on him in case he needed my help and when he looked like he was trying to steady himself, I slipped an arm around his waist and walked with him to the bathroom. He went in and shut the door between us. I grabbed a clean towel and a washcloth and was waiting for him when the door opened again. I held them out to him. “Here. I figured you might want to wash your face or something.”

“I appreciate that. What I really want is a shower, but I guess that’s off the table,” he replied, taking the towels.

“Vonne will be here in the morning, and he can give you some waterproof bandages and Tegaderm to put over them so you can shower if you really need to, but I think sponge baths would be better for a while.”

He glanced at my tiny shower, barely large enough for one person. He sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a long soak in a huge tub.”

“I don’t—”

He smiled and squeezed my bicep. “I was kidding, Trigg.” He held up the towels. “This will do just fine until I get home to my own place. Thank you.”

“Yeah, okay.” I turned and walked over to my dresser, pulling out my largest sleeveless T-shirt, bringing it back to the open door of the bathroom. He was standing at the sink, checking his teeth in the mirror. “When you’re done, I’ll help you into this T-shirt. It’s loose enough that we should be able to get you into it without much trouble.” He sent me a thousand-watt smile before turning on the faucet. I stood there hovering over him as he washed up and then pointed to the medicine cabinet. “There’s some deodorant in there.”

“Thanks, Trigg. I feel weird putting you out like this.”

“You’re not putting me out at all,” I said, reaching up and running fingers through my hair.

“You do that when you’re uncomfortable or nervous,” he said.

I dropped my hand, wondering a little about how nice it felt that someone could be that perceptive. No one had noticed anything about me in a very long time. In fact, after my parents died, I’d taken pains to hide things that threatened to betray my feelings, even sticking to casual hookups with guys I picked up in bars. Cassidy Ryan was probably the only person I’d ever met who saw the little things everyone else ignored. Other than him, only the guys in my unit had seen me express genuine emotions.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel nervous, Trigg,” Raven said. “I guess you think I’m just a busybody or something. Or maybe I’m just getting too personal. Anyway, I’m sorry about it.”

I smirked.

“What?” he asked, wiping his face.

“You have a nervous tic yourself,” I said.

“I do not,” he protested.

“Yeah, you do.” I chuckled. “You ramble when you’re nervous.”

“I do not!” He looked back in the mirror, and I caught the ghost of a smile in his reflection.

“You do.” I stepped into the bathroom and opened a drawer, pulling out a razor and a cheap hotel toothbrush still in a wrapper. “You might need these.”

He stared at me for several seconds before smiling at me. When his gaze dropped to my lips, I stepped back. “Thanks, Trigg,” he said to my back as he began brushing his teeth.

I went back into the living room. Stanley was sitting in the middle of my clean bed and I walked over, picking him up and cuddling him, almost surprised at the confirmation Raven Mathis was gay. He’d said he had to call someone and it sounded like a female but no guy looked at another guy’s mouth unless they had ideas running through their head about what they wanted to do with it. The bar bells had gotten me thinking but considering everything that had happened today, and what he’d said about not being married, I hadn’t been sure before now. I had to wonder at how out of practice my gaydar was though, that I hadn’t picked it up sooner. And whether he was in the closet. I grimaced at the thought.

“Trigg?” Raven called.

I set the cat on the ground and walked back to the bathroom. He was clutching the edge of the sink and when he turned to me, I could see how pale he was.

“Oh, shit. You, okay?” I walked into the bathroom, and he pivoted to face me a second before his legs gave out. I caught him before he hit the floor but only barely. He cried out as I grabbed him, and I realized my hand was over at least one of the wounds. I repositioned him and held him against my side. He looked up at me and I could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

“I’m gonna need another painkiller, Trigg.”

“Yeah, come on. Let me get you back in bed and then I’ll get you some.” We walked back into the front room, and I spotted Stanley, once again curled up in the same spot in the middle of the bed.

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.

“What’s so funny?” He grunted as we walked.

“I just moved him out of that spot a minute ago. Hang on.” I helped him to the bed and waited until he was sitting on the edge of it before grabbing the kitten. Stanley protested but I ignored him, putting him on my chair, and then coming back to Raven. “Let me grab that T-shirt for you.” I helped him pull it over his head. “Come on. Let’s get you comfortable and then I’ll get those meds.”

“Jesus, I feel terrible that you have to nurse me like this,” he said as I repositioned him, fluffing pillows behind him so he could lean back.

I grunted. “I’m worried if you don’t have anyone at home to take care of you,” I said, shaking a couple of pills out into my hand. “You said you weren’t married. Girlfriend?” I knew better but I couldn’t help but want to dig for more information.

“No girlfriend, Trigg,” Raven said, taking the edge of the quilt I was pulling up over him. “I’m gay, but I guess you know that.”

“How would I know that?” I asked, busying myself with opening the second pill bottle.

He reached out and caught my hand, stopping my actions. I looked up and met his dancing gaze. “By how you reacted there, in the bathroom.”

“I didn’t—”

“Come here.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me until I was leaning over him. “Closer.”

“Raven.”

“Are you going to make me beg for it?”

“For what?”

His cobalt blue eyes danced. “A kiss, you idiot.”

I smirked…a second before I leaned all the way down…and kissed him.