Fortune's Favor

Chapter Two

In a small forgotten town in Mexico, Malcolm Dixon closed his eyes and let the whisper of steel kiss his skin. Such a tender lover, so close to his soul. The blade was bigger than a knife, yet not long enough to be classified as a long sword. A gladius, perhaps, one that had been used in countless kills over the years. The hilt was made of an ivory-colored bone and knobbed in an exquisite red wood. The double-edged steel blade sang of increased carbon content, the impurities in the blooms of metal giving it a durability pure steel would not, as the material was too soft to make a good weapon. Along the blade, the word Sangre had been inscribed on each side in loving detail.

It would be hard to conceal unless a man with Malcolm’s many talents knew how to hide it. A hidden pocket in his overcoat, twenty inches deep and reinforced with a silken-Kevlar blended sheath, protected the blade from detection.

He glanced at the coat flung over a nearby chair. On the floor next to the chair, five corpses stared unseeingly at each other. A drug buy gone sour, or so the local paper would say. But Malcolm had the information he needed to satisfy his superiors. He’d already sent the files to his contact at headquarters. He’d eliminated the dealers and their buyers, and their money would fund the many black ops he wasn’t cleared to know about. Not that he cared.

He brought the blade up and read the word aloud. “Sangre. My Espada de Sangre.” Blade of Blood. So fitting, and so perfect for his needs. Weeks ago, he’d bought it at an underground auction, where most people went to sell stolen goods. He’d seen it and known he was meant to wield it. Then to find out Danielle had never died as he’d been told…

Just after he’d purchased the blade, he’d done a bit of research. The blade’s rightful owner wanted it back, no cost too great to reclaim the weapon. But he had help searching for it. A group with unique skills and more unique members. Intrigued, Malcolm dug further and found gold. Nathan Kraft was alive and well. And the bastard had led him right to Danielle, that faithless whore. All because of Sangre.

Fate surely had a hand in his life. With Sangre, he’d carved a hole where her heart should be, where the faithless woman had ripped out his own and replaced it with a stone-cold rock. Since her death, the only time he experienced a rush of emotion occurred on the cusp of another’s death. He wanted so badly to hold on to that feeling, and the sword gave him what he wanted—a short respite from the bleak existence he faced daily before the emptiness returned.

But gripping Sangre, he felt so much more. Malcolm closed his eyes and saw every death and murder committed by those holding the blade. He’d always been able to touch a weapon and gain the knowledge of how best to use it. But this blade was different. It called to him, sang to him with the sweet skill of a seductress. When he took a life using it, energy swelled and crashed inside him with such drugging ecstasy that he wept at the feel of it.

The bodies on the floor had been the notes to his latest composition, and he hummed under his breath as he kissed Sangre and carried it to his coat. After donning the jacket, he slipped the blade inside, content to have it so near. Then he made a call.

Danielle had been undeservedly blessed to feel Sangre as it slid between her ribs and sliced through her flesh. What a beautiful chorus of pain, and such emotion. He could still hear her pleading and begging and crying. But none of that made up for the secrets she’d kept. Had he known the truth from the beginning, things might have been different. His rage built as he pondered the past. He would have…

Footsteps sounded close. Malcolm gripped the hilt of Sangre and withdrew it from its sleeve inside his jacket. He stood and waited, grateful for another reprieve in his otherwise dreary life.

Two swarthy men entered with semiautomatics. He was already moving when the bullets flew. And then he danced, his partner graceful, the gladius all but glowing as he moved closer to perfection. The blade dipped and thrust and sucked up energy like a vacuum.

The men shrieked. Blood spattered the walls and floor, covering the dead already blanketing the wood like a stained rug.

Malcolm smiled, content, and carved a pattern in flesh. A design for Danielle, and for his nephew, whom he couldn’t wait to see once more.

Avery stood with Nathan and watched him charm the woman out of her seat. Within minutes of meeting Mr. Nathan Jackson, she’d offered not only to call the utility companies to turn the gas and cable on, but she’d also offered to buy them both dinner as a welcome to Bloomville.

“You’re so sweet, Ginger.” Nathan took the older woman’s hand in his and kissed the back of it.

Avery refrained from rolling his eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Hall. Thank you.”

The woman wore a ring and had a picture of herself, her husband, and two teenagers on the corner of her desk. Yet she blushed like a schoolgirl under Nathan’s attention. “It’s a pleasure, I assure you, Mr. Jackson. I mean, Nathan.”

Him she called Mister. Nathan got the first-name treatment. How was it his partner could charm total strangers but got on his last goddamn nerve half the time?

“We’ll leave you to it, then, Ginger. And thanks so much for dinner.”

She nodded. “It’ll be delivered, no worries. Best pizza in town.”

“You’re so sweet.” Nathan grinned, and those damn dimples made the woman melt. The way they made Avery melt every time he saw them.

Good thing he had a backbone made of iron. “Nathan? We need to get a move on.” He smiled politely at Ginger. “We have some cleanup to do before our investors come out to see the place in a few weeks.”

Ginger nodded. “You two restoring the Dixon house will be a draw for the town. We used to have a lot of visitors come to stay when the last couple ran it. It’s haunted, you know.”

Avery coughed to cover a laugh. Nathan shot him a dark look before turning to her. “Yes. That’s why we’re so interested in putting it back in top shape. Once we do the repair work, we’ll look into hiring local talent to run the place.” He nodded to Avery. “My partner and I are businessmen, not innkeepers. I handle the money; he does the grunt work.”

Trust Nathan to twist their cover around to make himself look important. Grunt work, my ass.

“Well, while you’re here, we’re more than glad to have you. And if you’re looking for a place to wind down when you’re not working, the Blooming Rose is a terrific bar. Lots of nice girls in town.” Apparently realizing how forward that sounded, she added, “Who’d be perfect to work in your B and B. Friendly faces to get to know better, if you were interested.”

Nathan didn’t react other than to smile. A good thing, because smaller towns tended to be more conservative. It was imperative they blend in just enough to give themselves time to look around. Avery’s visions had shown him that they’d find the blade, and hopefully Dixon, in Bloomville. But they’d get more answers out of the locals if they looked like part of the community. Those in Bloomville might not take to a gay man running their local inn. And God forbid they realize the gay man’s partner was bi.

That was a secret he was keeping under wraps until he knew he could fuck Nathan and not feel more than physical pleasure. Avery was attracted to the guy, but he’d seen Nathan go through men like tissues. He had no intention of becoming a notch on Nathan’s bedpost, and especially not if they had to work together. No matter how much he ached for the bastard. Hell, maybe he should check out the Blooming Rose.

Nathan gave him a slap on his back that felt less than friendly. “Come on, Avery. Let’s go.”

Avery held on to the keys Nathan motioned for and walked outside with him. Once out of earshot, he shook his head. “I can’t believe you sweet-talked that woman into getting us dinner.”

“She offered.”

“And the utilities? I know the heat and water were working, but do we really need the other stuff?”

“Hey, the gas fireplace is nice. And I’m not staying out in hickville without cable. Jack will reimburse us.” Nathan slanted him a look. “Not like there’s anything better to do.”

Avery nodded. “Good point. Not like you can go around sucking every dick in town if we want to keep a low profile.”

Nathan mouthed an obscenity and slammed his way into the vehicle.

Avery allowed himself a short grin. Ten minutes later, he parked in the side driveway of a large colonial-style home. He knew Nathan had at one time lived here. Over five thousand square feet, with original hardwood floors, wainscoting, and the original paned glass, the Dixon House had belonged to Malcolm Dixon’s ancestors, back when the place had been opened as a hotel before the Great Depression. In the years since, the large home had been renovated a few times to serve as both an inn and a private residence.

Avery hadn’t realized Nathan still owned it.

“Are you going to do something with this place once we’re done with the job?”

“Hell, yeah. I inherited it from my aunt—from Danielle. Soon as this case is over, I’m selling the thing.” Nathan looked up, and Avery wondered what he really saw when he viewed the whitewashed paint, weathered dark blue shutters, and falling gutters. Snow covered the massive yard, dusting the tops of the shrubbery growing wild around the property. Five large acres of trees, brush, snow, and more snow. It would have been the perfect place for a getaway weekend if they weren’t trying to trap a murderer.

“This house isn’t going to make security easy.” Avery took note of all the avenues of approach an enemy might use. “We need to get inside and lock down our control point.”

“Aye, aye.” Nathan gave him a mock salute, and Avery immediately thought of how satisfying it would be to paddle that ass.

His partner unlocked the front door, and Avery followed him inside. The musty smell of disuse hit him the minute they crossed the entranceway. But inside was a pleasant surprise. A warm yellow painted the walls not covered in glossy cherrywood. The floors had been refinished in the recent past, and the décor was charming in a Victorian, antique-y kind of way. Or at least what Avery could see of it past the dust cloths covering everything.

“Fully furnished,” Nathan muttered. “Just gotta take off the ghosts.”

“The what?”

“The white covers over the furniture. Always looked like ghosts to me.”

That sadness was back, and Avery wanted it gone. “So you want me to make this place feel like home for you? I could find you some twinks and a bottle of Jack, maybe.”

The sadness vanished to be replaced by a look of disgust. “Funny, he-man. What should we do to make it a home for you? Maybe some tits-and-ass calendars and religious right videos?”

Avery chuckled. “I thought you were going to say porn videos. More my speed.”

Nathan blinked. “You? Porn? My God. I think the floors just shook.”

Avery had taken more than his fair share of digs about his sex life over the week they’d spent together. But for some reason, today Nathan’s teasing burrowed under his skin. “I’m not a eunuch, Nate.”

Nathan glared. He hated Avery’s pet names. Sweetheart, princess, and dimples rounded the top three, but Nate was fun because it sounded so normal yet set the guy off.

“Might as well be.” Nathan shrugged him off, as if Avery didn’t rate.

Bull. Shit.

Avery stepped into Nathan’s private space. They nearly stood eye to eye, but Nathan had to look an inch up to meet his gaze. “That’s not the floor shaking, Nate. That’s your heart racing because you want me. Bad.”

Nathan’s shock came as great satisfaction, because Avery could see he’d struck a chord. So maybe Nathan had been thinking about him too. Christ, that was all he needed. As much as he prized control, constantly losing it in Nathan’s presence peeved him. But to know Nathan might want him back, that this attraction was actually two-sided? Temptation he might not be able to walk away from. Hell.

He didn’t need this, not with Malcolm Dixon running around with a paranormal sword and murder on his mind.

Nathan scowled. “You’re an ass. Always trying to get on my last nerve, aren’t you, Major?”

“Oh yeah. You want me,” Avery said with enough smugness to choke a mule. He knew this man. If he said white, Nathan would say black. Prodding his partner into not desiring him was easy. Tell him one thing, Nathan would do the opposite.

Except the sly grin Nathan returned unnerved him. His cock stiffened, and he could only thank his jacket and jeans for masking his arousal. Before he could take a step back, Nathan planted one hell of a kiss on his lips.

Avery forced himself to stand still, to not give in to the urge to fuck this man until he couldn’t walk. God, Nathan tasted good. He let Nathan explore for a few moments. But when Nathan tried to thrust his tongue between his lips, Avery pushed him away before he did something he’d regret. If he fucked Nathan now, Avery would be nothing more than another distraction to pass the time. The power would be in Nathan’s court, something Avery wouldn’t tolerate. He called the shots. He made the rules, and he left when the relationship fizzled, as it always did.

He took a swing at Nathan, but the bastard dodged. The cocky grin and easy way he ducked the punch said he’d expected as much. But the smile on his face told Avery he’d done the right thing. Nathan didn’t smile as much as he should, and despite Avery’s irritation with his partner, it gladdened him to know he’d put that amusement there.

Not wanting to let Nathan know he wasn’t upset, he muttered, “Dick.”

“Yeah, well, at least I know what mine’s for.”

“Fucking everything that moves? Nice.”

Nathan glowered. “At least I know sex is more than a three-letter word. Christ, Avery. When’s the last time you got laid? Diane? That was what? Three months ago?”

“So glad you care.” Interesting that Nathan was keeping tabs on him. And why that excited him, he didn’t want to say. “Yeah, Diane was hot. A nice woman.”

Nathan sneered. “Nice and respectable. You must be a crazy guy in the bedroom.”

Even knowing it wasn’t smart, Avery stepped close again. Pleased when Nathan’s grin left him and he fixated on Avery’s mouth, Avery took back control of the situation. “Oh yeah, crazy. I fucked her until she came; then I fucked her again. In her pussy, her mouth, her ass.”

Nathan’s eyes glazed over, and Avery’s cock hurt, wanting to sink into Nathan’s mouth, then Nathan’s tight ass.

He continued teasing. “I love ass play. And she was into it, for me. She took that silky tongue and licked my asshole. Really turned me on. Then I shoved her onto her belly and drove into her tight hole.”

Nathan’s breathing grew raspy.

“Diane loved it. And I loved doing her in every way possible. But I especially loved coming in that ass.” Avery whispered in his ear, “My bet, you’re a bottom. I bet you just love taking it, don’t you? A fat cock in your hole? Some dude rimming that ass, dipping his tongue deep to lick you all up?”

Nathan swallowed, the sound loud in the otherwise silent house.

Avery didn’t have to look down to see Nathan’s erection. His dilated pupils and quickened breath showed what Avery felt—bone-deep arousal. In toying with Nathan, he’d aroused himself all over again.

Shit. He stepped back and winked. “Yep. Diane was a lucky, lucky girl. But hey, princess. I bet one day you’ll get your happily-ever-after with the boy of your dreams too. Too bad you’re not lucky enough to have me.” Yet, dangled in his mind. He stepped away while he was still able and turned around, deliberately giving Nathan his back.

He thought he heard Nathan groan.

“I’m going to scout out the house. I’m thinking one of the bedrooms upstairs, away from foot traffic and outside access, will make a good command center. I’ll let you know.” Avery walked away and had made it halfway up the steps before Nathan responded.

“You’re a total asshole, you know that?” he yelled. “No way I’d be unlucky enough in this lifetime to have you. Not in two lifetimes!”

“That’s a lot of protest, son,” Avery yelled back to be heard and laughed to himself when Nathan swore.

Gauntlet thrown. And accepted.

Nathan stared at Avery that night, still pissed about Avery’s thoughtless comments earlier in the day. What kind of sexually repressed homophobe would spout shit about rimming and ass fucking to a gay man’s face? A man who wasn’t repressed or afraid of gays, apparently. It annoyed him all over again that he’d have to reclassify Avery. So much for thinking the guy had issues with sex. From what Avery had more than hinted, he liked fucking, and he especially liked ass play.

God, the images that called to mind were so wrong.

Nathan lusted after a straight guy with everything inside him, even knowing he’d get burned if he pursued him. How fucked up was that? He wanted to chalk up his weird desire and skewed emotions to the recent upheaval in his life, but he’d wanted Avery for far longer than that. At first Avery had been an attractive male. Eye candy. But as Nathan got to know him better, he’d become infatuated with the man. Seeing those unusual smiles, catching glimpses of the softer side Avery rarely showed his friends, taunted him to try to capture Avery’s attention.

I need to get laid. That’s all it is. A physical need. He paused in reflection. Yeah, right.

Hell, he had plenty of sex. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hug from someone he cared about. And not a friendly hug like those he shared with Ian or Kitty at work. But an affectionate caress from a lover instead of a quick handjob or blowjob in a bar.

Nathan reached for the last slice of pizza at the same time Avery did. Their hands touched, and he quickly pulled away, much to the amusement of Major Macho.

Avery raised his brow but said nothing, and Nathan internalized a groan. He had no idea why Avery’s arrogance turned him on so much.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?” Avery took a healthy bite of pizza and chewed, the powerful cords of his throat prominent. The navy cable-knit sweater he wore only added to his allure. The sweater clung to his chest while exposing his neck and the hint of his collarbone. Nathan wanted to eat him up.

Fuck. This is so wrong. He shifted in his seat, hoping Avery wouldn’t notice his expanding crotch.

Then Avery had the nerve to offer him half of the last slice he’d claimed. Being nice, on top of being so damn sexy, was cheating big-time.

Nathan grudgingly accepted the piece and let out a breath. “So your room. You good?”

Avery shrugged. “It’s a room. About the same as yours.” Avery paused and studied Nathan. “You okay being here? I get the feeling growing up in this town wasn’t fun for you. That there’s more to your issues than your mom—uh, aunt’s—death.”

Nathan started. He’d been so consumed with Avery that he’d zoned out on being here, in this place. It all seemed so long ago, but though the memories had faded, they’d never truly left. The constant beatings, the mental abuse… He sometimes wondered how far his uncle might have gone if Nathan hadn’t made a stand. God knew, the punishments Malcolm had devised were anything but rational. He’d seemed to almost get off on the abuse.

“Nathan?” Avery’s soft voice pulled him back.

“You want to know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

It was the way he answered that made Nathan decide to tell him. Gone was the antagonistic, domineering ex-agent, and in his place, a caring, concerned Avery sat waiting. Yet another facet to the man that made him such an enigma.

“My uncle was a real bastard. From the time I lived here with him and my aunt until the day he died—supposedly died—he took great pleasure in screwing with me. Used to make fun of me and put me down all the time. But never in front of my aunt. He didn’t want her to know. In front of her, he was the doting dad. About two years after I came to live with them, he started beating me.”

Avery frowned. “Damn.”

“Yeah. He was a sick fuck.” He could still see Malcolm’s huge hand wrapped around the leather belt. Could feel it as it came down hard on his back. His uncle was so careful not to leave marks where they could be seen outside of his clothes. But Nathan had scars on his ass, the backs of his thighs, and the soles of his feet. And those were just physical. He dreaded facing the cellar and got cold sweats just thinking about it.

“So Jack filled me in some about your aunt,” Avery said. “After she left your uncle, you guys moved to California.”

“She left him because he was dead. Or so we thought.”

Avery didn’t blink, but Nathan could feel the man’s curiosity, and his support. “Sounds like maybe he deserved to die.”

“Better him than my aunt.” My mother, who he finally tracked down and killed. Nathan gritted his teeth.

“Time to finish the job, then.” Avery didn’t look too bothered at the thought of killing.

“You don’t have a problem with that?”

“I’m not a murderer, but I’m a firm believer in justice. Malcolm Dixon killed a woman you loved. From what you said, he almost killed her years ago. And beating on a kid, that’s just fucked up any way you look at it.”

“True.” Nathan felt lighter for having shared. Was it because he’d told the truth finally, or because he’d told Avery, and Avery was still on his side?

“The other thing we need to take a good, hard look at is Dixon’s past. The few files Jack has on him are sketchy, which leads me to believe your uncle is even more dangerous than we think.”

“Not sure that could be true. He’s a stone-cold killer.”

“One who has a weapon attracted to blood. Did you read the report on Espada de Sangre?”

Nathan cringed. “I did. The blade is supposedly cursed. Forged in the early 1800s in Spain, it found its way to America and has been used in the Civil War, the World Wars, and in bloody crime sprees all over the world.”

“It’s like the thing is a beacon for evil. How the hell did our client get his hands on it, I wonder?”

Nathan wondered too. “You know who this guy is we’re working for? Jack knows him, but I haven’t heard a thing about him.”

“All I know is that he has money and a warehouse of stolen goods we’re getting back for him one piece at a time. But Jack needs to look for more clients. You never put all your eggs in one basket if you’re smart.”

“Great advice. I can’t wait to be there when you share it with Jack.”

Avery grimaced. “I like my head where it is, thanks. Jack’s a decent boss, but he’s not great with people.”

“That’s Kitty’s job.” Their resident empath, Kitty kept the peace at the gym.

“And ours is to find this weapon.” Avery looked him in the eye. “We get the blade first. Then we deal with your uncle.”

“I’ll deal with him.”

“I said we. You’re too close to this. You’re hurting, and you’re distracted. He’ll kill you if you’re not careful.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Avery’s words stung, but Nathan conceded his point. “Fine. You’ll help me track him down, but I’m the one who’s going to end his time on this earth. A blade to the throat, a bullet to the brain. I don’t much care, as long as he’s dead.”

Avery stared at him.

“What?”

“You could do that? Just shoot him in cold blood?” He didn’t sound judgmental, just curious.

“You don’t know Malcolm Dixon the way I do.” Nathan gave a bitter laugh. “No one ever gets the drop on him. When, not if, I kill him, it’ll be face-to-face in battle. Tell you what, though. To make you feel better, you can stand by in case I slip up. How does that sound?”

He fully expected Avery to agree with him, make some comment about Nathan’s failure to kill Malcolm the first time or poke fun at his ability to hold his own.

“I’ll back you up, Nathan. But I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Shocked and pleased, Nathan absently bit into the pizza Avery had given him and wondered what Aunt Danielle would have made of his partner. “My aunt would have liked you.”

Avery nodded. “You said she was a smart woman.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Are you ever not arrogant?”

“Nope. I’m in touch with myself and my strengths. I’m a likable guy. Not as charming as you, but I’m solid.”

Nathan turned the conversation in another direction. But while they argued about the coming football game on Sunday, he came to a decision long in the making. Before this case was through, he’d have Major Likable on his back and on his knees. I promise.

And when Nathan made a promise, even to himself, he never went back on his word.