They entered the kitchen about ten minutes later, both of them freshly washed and smelling as clean as possible. Jim was certain all anyone would pick up would be a faint hint of musk, and that was okay.

Jeremy was sitting in a chair at the table, dressed in plain clothes instead of a monk’s habit. He looked up as they stood by the doorway.

Jim launched directly into it. “Excuse me, sir,” he began politely. “Brother Timothy was murdered. And I have the proof.”

Shock etched itself across the elderly face before Jeremy frowned and asked, “But why would anyone want to kill him?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Blair supplied.

“What do you know?” the abbot demanded.

“Timothy rang that bell same time every day,” Jim cut in. “The killer must have been aware of his routine and set a trap.”

“Are you… are you suggesting that one of our monks is a murderer?”

“Yes, sir, I am. Sorry.”

“Oh, no, no,” Jeremy muttered. “That’s not possible. Someone must have come in from the outside. Perhaps a thief trying to get at those stained glass windows we’re restoring. Some of those windows are very old and quite valuable.”

Jim sighed and shrugged. “Timothy died in the tower, not the workshop. Besides, the tripwire had to have been rigged between the time he rang the bell for dinner and when he went back to the tower to ring the bell for vespers. A stranger on the premises would’ve been noticed immediately. Now, I want all of us to go into town together so we can notify the police. I want you to wake all the men. Right now.”

Jeremy glared. “Is that an order, Mr. Ellison?”

“If it has to be, yes,” Jim replied firmly, the tough resolve that had served him most of his life showing through clearly.

Jeremy lost his temper. “You come barging into my world with your cynicism and your radios and your guns and your phones and now you’re giving orders!”

Ellison kept his own cool for the moment. “Brother Jeremy, a man has been murdered. Now, somebody has to take charge of this situation and deal with it. We can’t deny that it happened.”

The abbot sat back and studied him for a moment before saying, “You don’t like me, do you, Mr. Ellison? You think I’m an anachronism. That our order serves no purpose.”

“I didn’t say that, sir.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Blair butted in at that point. “Guys, guys, let’s just deal with the subject at hand here, okay? We’re all going to be a lot safer once we get out of here.”

The two other men were silent and finally, Jeremy sighed and stood. “All right. I’ll go get into my robes and wake them. Meet us in the dinner hall in ten minutes, please.”

Jim and Blair nodded and preceded Jeremy from the room, pausing momentarily when the abbot sniffed the air questioningly before he shrugged and walked away.

They traded a knowing glance, then headed for the dinner hall.

***

Eventually, every monk on the grounds was in the room, dressed in their habits and looking at Jim intently as he stood before them, eyeing them searchingly.

“Brothers, I apologize for the inconvenience, but getting you out of here tonight is the only way that we can be assured of your safety. I promise I’ll do everything I can to get you back here as soon as possible. Now, Blair is warming up the bus. So at any moment…”

He was interrupted a moment later when Blair came rushing into the room and went up to Jim.

Feeling eyes upon him, he glanced around, swallowed hard, and made a cutting motion as he said aloud, “All four tires on the bus have been… slashed.” As the monks reacted, whispering to each other, Blair turned and grabbed hold of Jim’s jacket, yanking the taller man closer to him and whispered, “Jim, somebody really does not want us to get out of here. What are we going to do?”

Jim glanced at the monks before whispering back, “We ask for a volunteer to take a walk into town. Speaking from experience, I’d want to get out of here if I was the one who had committed the crime-“

“This crime,” Blair grumbled.

“Shut up, Chief. As I was saying, I’d be the first to raise my hand. So, that being said…” He straightened up and turned to face the monks. “Gentlemen, we’re going to need a volunteer to make a walk back to town.”

Jim watched in frustration as every one of them raised their hands, offering to go.

Jeremy, standing at the back of the room, spoke up. “I think Brother Theodore can be trusted with that job.”

Jim nodded at the tall, skinny monk in question. “Brother Theodore. Think you can handle this?”

Theodore stood up, grinning. “I’ve walked fifteen miles three times a week for forty years.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Would you care to put a C-note on it? Which, of course, I would turn over to the church,” the monk added hastily, grinning sheepishly at Jeremy, who grinned and winked at him.

Jim smiled slightly. “I’ll take that bet. When you get into town, would you notify the authorities and apprise them of the situation?”

“I understand. I’ll just stop and get a few supplies and I’ll be on my way,” Theodore murmured, and quickly left the room.

“Terrific, thank you,” Jim called after him.

Jeremy sighed and then got his monks’ attention. “Well, Brothers, I suggest we retire to our cells, lock ourselves in and maintain silence for the rest of the night. Try to sleep if you can. And please, remember Brother Timothy in your prayers.”

Jim stood back as the monks got to their feet, and added, “Thank you, gentlemen, for your cooperation.”

The monks filed out of the room and Jim glanced over at the abbot. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Brother Jeremy. I’m only trying to keep you all safe.”

“Yes, and earn yourself some free publicity and sensationalism as the prominent businessman who saved the monks from death and danger,” Jeremy grumbled.

“The prominent businessman who will, once all is taken care of, be donating to your monastery so you can make whatever repairs and upkeep you need, Brother,” Jim returned smoothly, then smiled at Jeremy’s startled look. “Believe it or not, Jeremy, I’ve become quite fond of you all. I see no harm in lending a helping hand in return for your generosity during this visit.”

Jeremy gave the younger man a hard look, then reluctantly smiled. “You are a smooth talker, Mr. Ellison. Thank you. We’ll be grateful for your contribution, of course. Now, if you please, you and Brother Blair need to return to your cell.”

Jim nodded and began to turn away, then turned back and asked, “Is it the usual way to have two beds in one cell in a monastery?”

The abbot snorted. “You are guests, Mr. Ellison, and clearly a friend of Blair’s. It is our policy to shelter guests in rooms together to help them feel more at ease. Goodnight.”

Jim grinned and nodded, then placed a hand to Blair’s back and walked with him out of the room, unobtrusively lending his support to the younger man, whom he could feel trembling with exhaustion.

They made their way through the halls and upstairs until, finally, they were in their cell. Jim locked the door behind him and turned to find Blair kicking off his sneakers and pulling off his jacket and flannel shirt, then pulling on a sweatshirt, leaving everything else on.

He nodded. “Sensible, in case we have to run for it.”

“Mmph,” Blair agreed, sitting on his own bed and watching as Jim did pretty much the same before settling on his own bed.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Jim finally gestured at his bed and said softly, “It’s big enough for both of us if you want to share, Chief.”

Blair slowly, sadly, shook his head. “Thanks, man, but… if someone sees us….”

Jim sighed. “Right. Probably a bad idea.”

“Not a bad idea, in and of itself,” the younger man corrected. “Just not good right now.”

“Hmmm. Well, crawl under the covers and let’s get some sleep, huh?”

Blair nodded and they did exactly that, pulling the covers up to their chins as they rested on their sides, looking across the room into each other’s eyes for long moments before their eyes slid shut under the weight of exhaustion.

Sleep came like a great dark tide.

****

Bright and early the next morning, dressed in a comfortable pair of slacks, shoes, gray shirt and light blue jacket that did wonderful things for his eyes, Jim walked across the grounds towards a small garden that had a low fence around its border. Inside were two monks, Anthony and Michael, who both looked up as he approached, then went back to weeding.

Jim crouched down to be on eye level with them. “Good morning. Brother Anthony, I know this is a bad time to be asking questions, but I really do have to. I was wondering if you could shed some light on Brother Timothy’s background.”

Both monks glanced at him, then ignored him and continued weeding.

Realizing that it was in bad form to punch a monk or to otherwise torture one, and that Blair most likely would not speak to him for a solid week if he did it, Jim sighed and refrained from doing so and murmured, “Maybe another time. Thanks anyway.”

He got to his feet and walked off as the bell began tolling, then stopped when he heard the rustle of robes as one of the monks hopped the fence and came after him, calling out, “Mr. Ellison!”

He turned to face Anthony as the young monk came up to him, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry. We observe a two-hour period of silence every morning. It’s to help us remember our vows.”

Feeling somewhat foolish for forgetting that piece of information, Jim began to apologize, but Anthony waved it away.

“It’s all right. The bell rings to let us know when we can speak.”

“Right.”

As they began walking across the grounds, Anthony hesitated, then said, “And besides the vows… well… some of the brothers are afraid of you and Blair.”

“Afraid of us? We’re you’re only protection, here. Neither of us has taken vows of non-violence,” Jim protested calmly.

“They think you might be the killers. You are outsiders and you arrived the night Brother Timothy died.”

“Uh-huh. Pretty convenient, that. So, what do you think?”

Anthony smiled serenely as they passed a huge Rhododendron. “Oh, I trust in the Lord. If he calls me, I’m more than willing to join Him. The only thing I can tell you about Timothy is that he was from Kansas.”

Jim nodded. “What about the other brothers?”

The monk shrugged. “We don’t usually talk about our old lives here. Most of us have come here to put the rest of the world behind us for good. And I’m fairly new here, so…”

Jim sighed. “I’m trying to help gather evidence that could point the authorities to Timothy’s murderer. That’s all I want to do right now, besides get everyone out of here safely. Any information, any detail you can give me, regardless of how small, is going to be of great help.”

Anthony was silent for a moment, then said, “Well, uh… Brother Michael - he’s our newest arrival - he’s been unusually secretive about his past.”

“And the others?”

“Oh… Marcus, Joseph. They’ve been here about as long as Jeremy. Marcus was an accountant. Joseph was a social worker.”

As they passed the bell tower, they looked up to see Christopher leaning over, watching them in return and listening to their conversation.

“Um, Frederick was an actor in the movies,” Anthony continued. “Mostly low budget.”

“That’s why I recognized him,” Jim said with a small, amused grin. “Of course. Now, I hear Jeremy has been here for twenty years or so?”

Anthony nodded. “He’s very dedicated to his mission. He’s a little bit gruff, but he’s probably the most decent man I know.”

Jim nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced up at Christopher, then back down to the monk beside him. “What about Christopher?”

Anthony shrugged and scratched his bald head. “I believe he was a life-insurance salesman.”

The sentinel laughed. “That would explain why he talks so much. And yourself?”

“Well, I was a man without direction. Um… different jobs all over the country and then one day I walked into a church and my mission became clear. It was actually as simple as that.”

Jim eyed the younger monk, his instincts telling him that Anthony was hiding something, but he let it go for now. “I wish I could believe like you do. Jeremy says I’m cynical. Most likely I am.”

“You’re a businessman in the outside world; it’s hard not to be for someone like you.”

“Yeah.”

Anthony gestured back towards the garden. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Thanks for your time,” Jim said, shaking his hand, and then waited, watching as Anthony walked off. A moment later, Christopher appeared at his side.

“Why were you questioning Brother Anthony?” the short monk demanded immediately.

“Why were you watching us from the bell tower?” Jim countered, watching Christopher flush guiltily.

“Well, Jeremy gave me Timothy’s duties. I looked out and saw you. Anthony’s a suspect?”

“Everybody is, from a cop’s point of view. You, me, Blair, Anthony, Jeremy… everybody. Like I told Anthony, I’m only trying to gather evidence for the authorities when they show up and hope we’re not all murdered in the meantime.”

Christopher frowned. “Why would I want to kill Brother Timothy?”

“Why would anybody?” Jim retorted. “So far, we don’t have anything resembling a motive. Until we do, everyone here is a suspect, get it? It’s nothing personal.”

“I understand, but you can trust me. Matter of fact, I’m working on a couple of leads I’m going to follow up on.”

“Terrific,” Jim sighed, wanting the overly obliging little monk to go away. He actually liked Christopher, but too much of him at any one sitting was too much for him.

Christopher grinned at him conspiratorially. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Right. Do that,” Jim replied, and walked away, using his hearing to track Blair across the grounds.

***

At the moment, Blair was walking with his friend, Marcus, through a tiny glen that bordered the monastery.

Marcus looked around and said sadly, “Timothy used to come out here every morning. I’d see him sitting right up here on this bench - sitting there and looking off. I always wondered what he was thinking about. He had, uh… he had good eyes, you know? There was truth in them. I was looking forward to the end of his silence so we could talk. Not many men are willing to choose this life. Temptations of the world are too great.”

Blair nodded, thinking of Jim. “I know what you mean, Brother.”

Just then, Jim appeared, walking towards him, and Blair felt a tightening in his chest and groin as he watched the sunlight-limned figure strolling closer, those hips rolling and twisting in an unconsciously sexy, lazy saunter.

Marcus watched the other man approach and felt fear and anger burning in his heart, especially when he glanced at the young man beside him and saw the slightly hungry look in Blair’s eyes.

As Jim joined them, Marcus said to Blair, “When I entered this monastery, I found what I was looking for. It’s not for everyone… but it works for me. It could work for you, too, Blair. If you want to stay here and… get away.”

Jim immediately tensed and scowled at the monk. “What, exactly, does he need to get away from?”

Marcus whirled on the taller man. “You, that’s what! I know you for what you are, Jim Ellison! You’re a criminal!”

“Yes, I am. And how would a monk know that?” Jim challenged, stepping between his guide and Marcus, Blair standing behind him.

“I have my sources,” Marcus growled. “But I’m not telling you.”

“Keeping that secret just like the other ones?” Ellison snarled back.

“Jim, man!” Blair snapped, yanking on his sentinel’s arm and pulling him back. “So he’s got his secrets! We all do! You have no right-“

“He has no right to keep at least one of those secrets from you, Blair,” Jim shot back. He stared hard at the suddenly shame-faced Marcus. “Why don’t you tell him? He has the right to know!”

“No, I don’t, if Marcus doesn’t want to tell me!” Blair yelled. “You can’t make him!”

Jim was silent for a moment and then he capitulated. “You’re right, Chief. I don’t. But if he truly believes himself to be your friend above all else, he won’t keep silent much longer.”

Marcus blushed bright red and refused to look at them. “I’ll… see you at breakfast, Blair. Don’t be late; nothing but crumbs.”

“Right, man. See you then,” Blair said warmly, and watched the older man walk off before turning to glower at his sentinel.

“Okay, so what do you have to say for yourse-mmph!”

He found his words cut off as Jim’s mouth clamped onto his, kissing him thoroughly for long moments before pulling away gently. He found Jim’s arms wrapped around him, supporting him as he gasped for breath, trying to restore his equilibrium.

“What was that for?!” he demanded.

“I wanted to,” Jim smirked. “You’re really sexy when you’re angry.”

Blair sighed and closed his eyes. “Whatever. So, why were you picking a fight with Marcus?”

Ellison shook his head. “I can’t tell you, Blair. This one has to come from him.”

The younger man sighed again. “Fine, I’ll leave it alone. For now.”

Jim nodded. “Okay. So, did you find out anything?”

“Yeah. That I could never do what these guys do,” Blair said with a playful grin. “I mean, the sacrifice, the commitment… I just can’t believe that one of them would kill another.”

“You have to remember they’re flesh and bone, just like you and me, Chief.”

Jim stiffened as he heard someone approaching and quickly released Blair and stepped back. A moment later, Brother Frederick came up to them and Blair’s confused expression disappeared.

“Excuse me,” the monk said somewhat nervously. “Brother Jeremy asked if you’d meet him in your cell.”

Jim frowned, his hearing catching the nervous pounding of Frederick’s heart, but he didn’t have a definite cause to be suspicious, so he simply shrugged and gestured for the monk to lead the way.

Minutes later, the two men entered their cell to find that it had been ransacked.

“Oh, this is just great,” Jim grumbled as he moved to pick up his clothing.

Abruptly, the door slammed shut behind them and they whirled to find Jeremy staring at them from the open slot in the door as the abbot locked it shut from the outside.

Sentinel and Guide rushed to the door as Jim demanded, “Jeremy, what are you doing?”

The abbot held up Jim’s gun and cell phone as he snapped, “Brother Frederick found these in your cell when he was cleaning.”

“Wait a minute. Someone’s trying to set me up! Can’t you see that? They’re trying to get me out of the way! You guys are in even more danger than we thought!”

“Perhaps, but not from you,” Jeremy said firmly.

“Jeremy, come on, you know me!” Blair pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Blair, we can’t take any chances,” Jeremy denied, and he and Frederick began walking away.

“Is he serious?” Jim demanded of his guide.

“Jeremy, come on, open the door!” Blair called, ignoring the other man.

His anger rising powerfully, Jim began pounding on the door as he roared, “Jeremy! Open this door, Jeremy!”

The abbot ignored them and the two monks disappeared around the corner.

“Oh, these clowns,” Jim growled. “I’ve had it with them. They’ll be lucky if I don’t decide to murder them all and save the real killer the trouble!”

“Jim!” His name came out as a frightened yelp, and he turned to find Blair looking at him with wide, pleading blue eyes.

He sighed and pressed a quick kiss to his guide’s forehead. “I won’t, baby, I promise. I’m just blowing off steam, Chief. However, I am going out the window. Follow me if you want to, although I think you’ll be safer here.”

With that, he moved towards the window, getting ready to kick it open.

Blair glanced out the slot in the door and happened to see Christopher walking down the hallway in the opposite direction.

“Christopher!” he shouted, getting Jim’s attention and bringing him back to the door even as the monk turned to look at them warily. “Christopher, come here! Open the door!”

The monk shook his head. “I can’t do that. But I found something you should see. It’s in my room. I’ll be right back.” He walked to the door at the opposite end of the hallway and opened it.

Jim, who had all his senses dialed up to track the monk, frowned and sniffed. “What the hell is that?”

“What’s what?” Blair demanded.

“Fuel oil or kerosene,” Jim replied tersely, and focused his sight down the hall. “It’s coming from down there.” He gestured at Christopher’s room.

He tracked the monk’s hand as it reached up towards the light switch that hung from the single bare bulb in the room and his sharp eyes saw the liquid sloshing in the bulb. Fear spiked through him and he beat on the door as he began screaming, “Christopher! Don’t go in there! Christopher! Don’t! Don’t turn it on, stop!”

It was too late. Christopher ignored him, pulling the switch and immediately, the kerosene ignited as the electrical current hit it. Poor Christopher, along with his room, was instantly engulfed in a huge burst of flame that roared out through the door and down the hall.

Jim ignored Blair’s shocked and grieving cry as he grabbed his guide and threw him to the floor, covering him with his own body just in case the flames had enough force to burst into their own room.

However, although he could feel a flash of intense heat, the door merely rattled in its hinges, staying firmly latched as the flames out in the hall dissipated, leaving scorch marks on the wall.

Moments later, Jim rolled off his partner and helped him up, giving the younger man a quick, bracing hug as he whispered reassurances, then turned his attention to the monks who were racing into the hallway.

Jeremy paused in the doorway to Christopher’s room, his horrified gaze taking in the charred remains of the once lively monk, before turning to stare down the hall, where he locked gazes with Jim.

Moments later, the two men were freed from their cell and they quickly exited. Jim ignored Jeremy’s babbling attempts at apology and walked down the hall to Christopher’s room, likewise ignoring some of the monks who either shrank back from him in fear or were currently gagging at the sight of their brother’s remains.

Jim stared down at Christopher grimly. Their last meeting played over in his mind and his anger threatened to rise up past his control as he struggled to accept the fact that he hadn’t been able to save this sweet, shy, middle-aged man who had only wanted to be helpful.

“He… he needs to be taken to the chapel,” one of the monks whispered in a raw voice, not looking at the body.

Several shudders swept through the group. The nausea at the thought of touching the horribly burned body was instinctive reaction to something disgusting, but they would do it for their brother.

Jim sighed. “I’ll do it. I was in the Army as a Ranger. I’ve dealt with bodies like this before.”

Jeremy sighed gratefully. “Thank you, Mr. Ellison. Michael, go with him and prepare a casket for Brother Christopher, then come back if Brother Ellison doesn’t need you any further.”

Michael nodded and the others quickly dispersed, Marcus leading Blair away when Jim motioned for him to leave. He didn’t want his guide, clearly upset, to be subjected to dealing with Christopher’s remains anymore.

Taking a blanket from the bed as Michael removed the second habit hanging in the closet, Jim then rolled the body into it and hefted the corpse over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, dialing down his senses of smell and taste and hearing as Blair had whispered at him to do. He had no wish to smell, or get a residual taste of, or hear the crackling of, the body as he walked.

The two men made their way downstairs and into the chapel, where Michael disappeared into a side room and emerged a moment later, lugging a casket. It was placed on a bench on an altar beside Timothy’s, who was supposed to have been buried right about then, but because of the fire….

“Thank you, Michael,” Jim murmured. “Leave the robe and I’ll handle the rest of it.”

Michael nodded quickly and left the chapel, heading back to join his brothers in prayer.

Sighing, Jim carefully lowered the body into the casket, leaving it wrapped in the blanket. He picked up the nearby robe and draped it over the bundle face-down, pulling the hood up to cover the head. He quickly located the box that had some supplies in it and he dialed everything way down as he placed small vials of smelling salts at different points in the casket, leaving it open. Hopefully, the salts would help mask the smell, while leaving the coffin open would help the stink dissipate further.

Then he left, dialing back up again, and made his way back upstairs, tracking Blair to the dinner hall. He pointed at his guide, then Jeremy, and motioned for them to join him. Frederick got up to follow along and the small group left the room, Jim leading the way back upstairs.

“Christopher has been laid out,” he said tersely. “I placed some smelling salts in the casket with him to help mask the smell of burnt flesh. Hopefully, we can bury him and Timothy pretty soon without adding others to the list.”

Subdued, agreeable murmurs met his pronouncement and he smiled thinly.

Then he and Blair entered Christopher’s old room, which had cooled off a bit, while Jeremy and Frederick stood by the door.

After checking things over, Jim sighed and said, “The killer injected the light bulb with a flammable liquid; kerosene, by the smell of it. When Christopher hit the switch, the filament set it off.”

“And he was trying to help us, too,” Blair muttered. “Maybe he found something.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said in a hushed tone, remorse in every line of him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, why don’t you tell that to Brother Christopher,” Jim growled, subtly pleased at the deepening expression of guilt on Jeremy’s face. He had liked the odd-ball Christopher in a weird sort of way. That the sweet little man had been cut down so cruelly bothered him, even as saturated in murder as he himself was; as though the killer had taken away one of “his” men, somehow. He didn’t fully understand it, but he knew he wanted vengeance on behalf of Timothy and Christopher.

“I understand your anger,” Jeremy said quietly, “and I fully deserve it. But from now on, you’ll have my total cooperation, and that of the other monks. Here.” He handed Jim’s gun and cell phone to Blair, who winced slightly as his flesh came in contact with the cool metal of a gun that had undoubtedly been the cause of more than one person’s death.

“Please… please find whoever’s repsonsible for this before another of us dies,” Jeremy implored, then left quickly, Frederick following in his wake.

Jim sighed as he stood, holding a burnt photograph in one hand. “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be playing the ‘cop’ half of ‘Cops & Robbers’. Check this out.” He handed the picture to Blair as he took his gun and cell phone from his guide. “Huh. Clip’s gone. So is the battery. Big surprise,” he grunted, then gestured at the photograph. “That look familiar?”

Blair stared down at the photo of a man who did seem vaguely familiar. The photo was obviously taken in the seventies, and someone’s right arm was around the man’s shoulder, draping down his chest. But the owner of the arm had been burnt away in the explosion. “Uh… sort of.”

“Jackie Kozinski,” Jim supplied. “Ran the midwest unions back in the 70’s. More of a gangster than a union leader. Racketeering, extortion, you name it. Rumor had it that he ordered several contract killings.”

“Didn’t he turn federal witness and blow the lid on those mob guys doing the dirty work for him? He disappeared, right?” Blair speculated.

“Popular notion had it that he was murdered, but they never found the body. When I got into the criminal overlord business, one of the rumors going around was that he’d been placed in the witness protection program, hidden so deep it was impossible to find him.”

Blair ignored the criminal reference. “It was a huge, national story, wasn’t it? I think I was out of the country at the time with Naomi.”

“Who’s Naomi?”

“My mom, big guy, chill out, okay?”

“Whatever. Anyway, see that ring? Where have you seen that before?” Jim said, pointing at the arm draped around Kozinski’s shoulders.

“Um…”

“Brother Jeremy’s right hand.”

“What?” Blair gasped. “Brother Jeremy? Well, if that’s him in the picture, Jim, what is going on here?”

“I don’t know, but it’s possible it had something to do with the brothers’ deaths. They found out something they weren’t supposed to know, and the killer silenced them.”

“Not Jeremy-“

“No, I don’t think he did it. He’s as horrified and upset at their deaths as we are. No, I think it’s somebody who has come here looking for Kozinski.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jeremy said that one of the purposes of the monastery was to provide a refuge. So, what if Kozinski really isn’t dead? What if he’s here?”

Blair looked very upset. “Jim… this is sounding really creepy.”

“I know, Chief, but it makes perfect sense,” Ellison replied.

The younger man sighed. “You probably already know who it is, don’t you?”

“The killer? Not yet, but I have a few theories. But I’m 99.9% certain I know who Kozinski is.”

“Who?”

“Marcus.”

Jim expected Blair’s reaction and when the younger man shouted in angry denial and whirled away from him, he grabbed his partner’s arms and held him still firmly, glaring down at him.

“Chief, listen to me!” he snapped.

“No! Why should I? You’ve had it in for Marcus ever since you met him!” Blair snapped back. “Like you’re jealous of him, or something-“

“I am, but only because he’s known you longer than me! Sandburg, just listen to me on this, okay?”

When Blair glared mulishly at him, Jim sighed. “Thank you. Now, remember how Marcus said he has his sources but refused to name them when he said he knew I’m a criminal? We’ve both been wondering how a monk would know that. Well, how could he unless he was one himself before he came here? Criminals do not close their information channels. We always have an ear to the ground.”

Blair shrugged himself free and glared for a moment before he turned away. “I hope you’re wrong,” he muttered quietly.

Jim came up behind him and lightly rested his hands on his guide’s shoulders. “For your sake, I hope I am, too,” he murmured into one ear. “I’m sorry, Chief, really I am. I know he’s your friend.”

Blair sighed. “Come on, let’s go find Jeremy and get him to spill the beans.”

The older man gently turned his partner around and cupped his face in one hand. Carefully, he lowered his mouth and pressed a quick kiss to full, lush lips, then pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said again, and he meant it. He hated his guide to be upset.

Blair sighed again and led the way out of the room and down the stairs, the sensation of Jim’s heat behind him both comforting and discomforting at the same time.

***

They quickly located Jeremy in the chapel.

The abbot was sitting at the end of the pew directly in front of the altar, his hands folded in prayer, as he stared unblinkingly at the two caskets before him.

Jim walked up to stand directly beside Jeremy, while Blair hung back to the pew behind them.

“Who is he to you?” Jim asked bluntly.

“Who is who?” Jeremy replied coolly.

“Jackie Kozinski.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeremy denied, his face going expressionless.

“Sure you do. One of your monks is Jackie Kozinski,” Jim said casually as he handed the picture to Jeremy. “Timothy’s dead because he found something he wasn’t supposed to. Christopher… he may have died because he found that. That’s your ring, isn’t it? What happened, Jeremy? Is Kozinski a friend of yours? What did he do? Did he roll over on the mob or something, so you gave him a place to hide? He had a little plastic surgery just to be safe?”

“You don’t understand,” Jeremy said desperately.

“No, I understand fine,” Jim growled back. “You provided a murdering gangster with a refuge. Then, after all these years, somehow Timothy figured it all out and Kozinski killed him.”

“No!”

“Yes! And then Christopher found out and Kozinski killed him as well!”

“No, my God, you’re wrong,” Jeremy groaned.

“No, I’m not,” Jim hissed, baiting the abbot.

“Get out.”

“No, I won’t!”

“Get out!” Jeremy shouted.

“No!” Jim bellowed.

Marcus suddenly appeared in the chapel, striding towards them. Blair turned to face his friend, apprehension in his gaze.

“That’s enough, Jeremy,” the older man said quietly as he came up to them. “It’s over. I’ve been responsible for enough deaths.” He glanced at Jim and Blair and sighed heavily. “I am Jackie Kozinski.”

“What?” Blair snapped, betrayal lacing his tone and his expression, ignoring Marcus’ pained wince. “You murdered two of your friends?”

Marcus turned to face his young friend reluctantly. “I won’t deny that I’ve done things in the past - terrible things - but despite the accusations, I’ve never been involved in murder. Not in my past… not here… and certainly not now. Oh, Blair… come on, you have to believe me!”

Jim heard the desperation in the criminal-turned-monk’s voice, and understood it. That didn’t stop him from asking, “If you’re not responsible for these deaths, who is? Who killed Timothy and Christopher? Two sweet, gentle men who had no business dying as they did!”

“Someone from the world Marcus left behind,” Jeremy said tiredly as he took the hand Marcus held out to him, gripping it tightly.

“See, I’m unfinished business,” Marcus said softly. “I gave away their secrets. As long as I’m alive, my crimes go unpunished.”

“What are you two suggesting? One of the other monks is a contract killer for the mob?” Jim demanded.

The glare Marcus aimed at the taller man told Jim silently that “he ought to know”, but all Marcus said was, “Jeremy doesn’t want to believe it, but it’s the only logical conclusion.”

Blair sighed in disgust, his shoulders slumping, and the others turned to look at him.

“Blair…?” Marcus asked quietly.

The young man lifted his head and aimed a baleful glare at his friend. “This was the huge secret that you were keeping from me? The one Jim hounded you about earlier?”

Marcus hesitated. He would have loved to say “yes”, to have it be left at that and be done with. However, he heard Jim’s warning rumble behind him and he knew he couldn’t hide behind an easy answer. Slowly, he shook his head.

“No,” he said heavily. “That’s not it. It’s… something else.”

“What?” Blair asked flatly.

“I’ll tell you later,” Marcus promised in a near whisper. “When this mess has been taken care of, I swear, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” Blair agreed, and turned and walked away to the outside doors of the chapel.

Marcus strangled a pained whimper in his throat and accepted the comforting arm Jeremy slid around his shoulders before the rest of them followed the young man outside.

The small group of four wandered out to the garden, where the rest of the monks were toiling, and stopped to look at them.

“Who are the most recent arrivals?” Jim asked, his eyes fixing on two monks working close together.

“Anthony and Michael,” Jeremy replied promptly. “Michael was a banker from Detroit. No family. Anthony grew up in Indiana. In fact, he was a point guard for his university basketball team.”

“Anthony?” Jim murmured, feeling his instincts sit up and start screaming that he’d found the “hot spot”.

“Full scholarship.”

“Funny. From the way he played last night, you’d think he never touched a basketball,” Jim muttered.

They watched as Anthony stared over his shoulder at them and then turned away. Jim was hardly surprised when the young man suddenly whipped back around, a gun held firmly in his grip and aimed straight at him.

“Looks like you found your man, ‘Detective’,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the shocked cries from the monks around them. “Now, where is Jackie Kozinski?”

“He’s not here,” Ellison replied.

“Yeah? Why don’t I believe you?” Anthony snarled. “I know he’s here, I tracked him this far! My bosses want him dead and I’m going to do it. Now, where is he?”

“Not here.”

Anthony turned red with rage for a moment and then snapped, “Think you're a wise guy, huh? Fine. We’ll do this the hard way. Everyone upstairs into the bell loft.”

With his gun useless and too far away to do anything, Jim knew he couldn’t rely on the monks to take action themselves. Therefore, he was resigned to having to follow orders from the contract killer until he could get the upper hand.

Moments later, Anthony herded them into the bell tower and upstairs to the bell loft, all of them filing into the room.

When they were all facing him, he pointed his gun at Jeremy and growled, “All right, here’s the drill. You turn over Jackie Kozinski to me and no one else needs to get hurt.”

“I already told you Kozinski isn’t here,” Jim said calmly.

“I told you, I don’t believe you!” Anthony shouted. “I’ll just start shooting and maybe I’ll get lucky, huh? Like that idea?” He leveled the gun at Jeremy’s head. “When you see the Big Guy upstairs, tell him to teach you how to lighten up.”

Marcus stepped forward then. “Stop it! I’m Jackie Kozinski.”

“Get over here,” Anthony muttered, jerking his gun at the spot in front of him.

Slowly, Marcus wandered over, gripping the hand Jeremy raised to him tightly for a moment, then shaking himself free. When he was standing before the young man, Anthony pushed him down to his knees.

Jim felt Blair go rigid beside him, heard the soft gasp, and clamped his hand on one of his guide’s shoulders to prevent him from doing something foolish.

Marcus swallowed hard and looked at his friends, then up at Anthony. “Your word… please… you won’t hurt them or kill them… after…?”

Anthony snorted, then grinned maliciously. “What the hell, why not? Nobody will be able to find me anyway.” He aimed the gun at Marcus’ head and began to pull the trigger.

And then Frederick stepped forward. “Wait! I - I’m Jackie Kozinski,” he said in a trembling voice, and lowered himself to kneel next to Marcus.

Another monk stepped forward, his voice ringing with intensity. “Once… I was known as Jackie Kozinski.”

By now, Anthony was getting way confused.

Mousy-looking Michael stepped forward next to kneel beside the others, and Marcus felt his heart bleed a little more at this display of bravery on his behalf as Michael said calmly, “Thank you, Brothers… but I’m Jackie Kozinski.”

And Jeremy, his voice calm and sad, lowered himself to kneel with his brothers and said with quiet stubbornness, “And I… am Jackie Kozinski.”

Anthony practically hyperventilated, then grimaced. “Alright… you all want to play martyrs? Fine.” He pointed his gun, readying to open fire.

Feeling Blair tremble hard, Jim spoke up. “How many rounds you got in that gun?” When Anthony hesitated, he added, “One of us is going to be on you before you’re through it. Rest assured, Junior, that having been a Black Ops Ranger in the Army, I know ways to make you hurt.” His tone of voice promised that he would be using all of his knowledge on Anthony very, very soon.

That made the young killer bolt and he rattled down the stairs, pulling the door shut after him and jamming it locked from the outside before clattering the rest of the way down the stairs.

Marcus sighed and got to his feet, the others rising with him. “Thank you, Brothers, but I think we’ve just sentenced ourselves to a mass grave.”

Jim shook his head and gently shoved his friend towards the entrance. “That’s not going to happen. Blair, check that door.”

He moved to the window, looked down, and found Anthony outside, dressed in black trousers, muscle shirt, and suspenders, smoking a cigarette while he talked on a cell phone. The sentinel focused his hearing and felt his anger burn through him when he heard what was being said.

“Yeah, it’s me. Okay, so it took a little longer than I thought. Just get up here, will you? No. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to do them all anyway just to make sure. If you get lost, just look for the big light on the horizon.”

Realizing that Anthony planned to burn them to death, Jim quickly measured the height from the loft to the ground as the young killer moved out of view.

“I think I can make it,” he said to the watching monks. “It’s only 55 feet.”

“Great, Jim,” Blair said sarcastically. “What are you going to do with two broken legs? Get real!”

Ellison glared at him and then glanced at the bell. “How much does the bell weigh?”

“About a thousand pounds,” Jeremy replied.

Jim grinned wickedly. “Brothers, I’m going to need your belts.”

Quickly, they stripped off their belts, though they thought he was nuts, and as Anthony hurriedly spread gasoline all around the chapel, Jim quickly knotted the belts together and then tied one end to the bell and tossed the rest of the belt-rope out the window. He climbed out and paused long enough to say, “If you’ve got a good prayer for this, now would be a good time to say it.”

When Blair lightly touched his hand, he looked up into worried blue eyes and heard Blair whisper for his ears only, “Be careful, Jim. Don’t get hurt.”

He nodded, then began to scale down the side of the tower cautiously.

Anthony never noticed him coming down to the end of the rope, which was about ten feet from the ground. He struck a match, but dropped it and cursed as Jim let go and fell to the ground. A moment later, he rushed up and attacked the young killer, knocking him out quickly and then scooping up the still burning match before a trickle of gasoline could reach it. He quickly blew it out and then looked up to find the monks and Blair cheering at him.

Grinning, feeling an ache deep in his knees, Jim nevertheless went back into the tower and up the stairs, un-jamming the door and opening it, letting the relieved monks out. He even accepted the quick hug that Blair gave him before the younger man turned away from his single raised eyebrow.

They milled around outside, the monks talking amongst themselves and trying to figure out how to mop up the spilled gasoline, while Jim tied up a now conscious Anthony with one of the belts.

Michael wandered up to Jim and smiled shyly. “I seem to be short a belt.”

“It’s still being used,” Jim growled, tightening the cloth around Anthony’s wrists tightly.

Michael went pale as he realized what was going on and muttered, “He can keep it,” before turning away.

And then, all hell broke loose as a Cadillac roared drown the driveway, an automatic gun firing rounds of bullets at the entire group, who scattered like crows, running for shelter. A few of the monks were hit and their brothers supported them to safety, helping them to their downstairs prayer room and shelter while Blair and Jim slipped into the main monastery building.

Outside, a mob boss got out from behind the wheel, his other henchman who had fired the gun getting out from the passenger side of the car.

“Jackie!” the boss shouted at the top of his lungs.

Inside, Jim whispered into Blair’s ear, “Let’s split up.”

“What?!” Blair hissed as the mob boss continued to shout for the former criminal.

“It’s safer that way,” Jim insisted. “Just go, c’mon!” and he gave his guide a push to get him going.

Blair doubted it, but he followed orders, running off further into the monastery.

Outside, Anthony, still tied up, ran up to his boss.

“Will you get me out of this?” he complained.

The fat, bearded man quickly untied him as Anthony muttered, “Man, am I glad to see you.”

Then he yelped as his boss grabbed him and forced him onto the hood of the car.

“You had two months to find Jackie and you didn’t do it,” the boss snarled at him. “You could have killed all of them and you didn’t do it. Now I’m going to give you one more chance to atone for your sins, brother. Do it.”

When his boss let him up, Anthony silently accepted a gun and turned to run back into the monastery as, once again, the mobster began shouting for Jackie.

***

Slinking along the hallways of the monastery, Jim snuck up behind Jeremy and quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, dragging the startled monk off into an alcove for privacy.

“They’ve got guns,” he told the abbot, “but we’ve got the manpower. Now, we’ve got to rally the Brothers in order to fight.”

Jeremy shook his head. “No. You see, as part of our vows, we’re committed to abstain from violence - of any kind.”

“Even if you’re attacked?” Jim said incredulously.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said regretfully, desperately.

Jim shot him a disparaging look and left him behind, already making plans on how to track, sneak up on, and render the mob killers inert.

Feeling ill, Jeremy made his way down to the prayer room. He found his monks there, a few of them injured, Marcus one of them. He was bleeding heavily from a wound taken in his left shoulder.

“Brothers… the situation appears rather grave,” Jeremy told them somberly.

“We have to do something to help,” Michael spoke up.

“I’ve told Mr. Ellison that won’t be possible.”

“Brother, I really think in this case….”

“No,” Jeremy said firmly. His gaze locked with Marcus’. “On this point, there will be no discussion.”

Then he knelt down, facing the statue of Jesus Christ that hung over the doorway, and led them in prayer.

***

Blair, for the most part, was scared almost shitless. He had almost run into the new henchman who had arrived with the boss, but ducked out of the way in time as the man went slowly upstairs. Knowing that he had a chance to sneak up on the man and possibly take him out, Blair silently lifted a huge walking stick from the rack at the foot of the stairs and silently followed the bad guy.

He tracked the bigger man to a cell, where the man put one leg out the window and then ducked out to get a better view.

Steeling himself, Blair crept closer and then hissed to get the guy’s attention. The man turned quickly and he brought the knotted end of the stick forward, cracking it into the gunman’s jaw.

The man went flying out the window and rolled off the roof to land with a thud on the ground ten feet below, the wind knocked out of him as he lost consciousness.

Blair winced and then hurried back downstairs, hoping to find Jim, especially alive and in one piece.

***

Jim, however, was lying in wait behind the main chapel doors. Hearing Anthony approaching, he jiggled the door, luring the young man up the steps. When the young killer reached for the doors, Jim kicked them open, knocking Anthony down the stairs. He followed after quickly and pounced on the suddenly fearful younger man.

His rage at Anthony knowing no bounds for his murders of two monks and the planned murder of all the rest of them, Jim took justice into his own hands. Ignoring Anthony’s fear widened eyes, Jim pinned him in a headlock and then snapped his neck. It was a quicker death than he wanted for the vicious bastard, but he didn’t have time to torture the young man leisurely.

He let the body fall to the ground and turned, only to find the mob boss approaching him with a gun pointed at him. He tensed, knowing he most likely would not make it if he tried to leap to safety. Then fear slammed through him when a side door burst open and Blair clattered down the steps, instantly drawing the gunman’s attention to him.

The younger man skidded to a halt, his eyes wide as he saw the gun aimed at him and about ready to fire.

Jim felt time slow down and he coiled his muscles, ready to leap and try to tackle the boss to the ground.

And the situation became moot when a shovel appeared out of nowhere to slam into the mob boss’s head, knocking him unconscious.

Jim and Blair looked to discover Jeremy standing there, white faced, holding the shovel. He looked at them for a moment, then at the unconscious man, dropped the shovel and stumbled away to be sick.

Jim sighed and wandered over to help support the older man, hearing Blair come towards them, grateful that the younger man had been saved.

****

Only an hour later, however, things were being taken care of.

Brother Theodore had made it into town and had notified the authorities, who came screaming out in squad cars and a couple of ambulances. Bodies were gathered up, wounds tended to, bad guys handcuffed, statements given… and plans made.

As Jim finished giving his statement to an officer, he turned to see a gurney with a body on it, a sheet draped over it. He pulled the sheet away to reveal Marcus’ still, deathly pale face.

The mob boss saw it and struggled with the officer trying to stuff him into the back of a squad car as he shouted gleefully, “I got you, Kozinski! You son of a bitch!”

Jim was almost totally surprised when Blair, standing grief-stricken beside him, suddenly snarled in rage, whirled around, and began stalking towards the mob boss. Swiftly, he caught hold of the younger man and pulled him back, holding him tightly against his body.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy! Come on, Chief, come on. It’s all right, I promise. Just let it go.”

The squad car left a moment later and Blair let out a muted sound of grief as he turned back to face his older friend. Tears in his eyes, he reached out and gently brushed hair off Marcus’ face.

And then gasped in surprise when Marcus’ eyes suddenly snapped open and he struggled upright a few inches, yelling out, “No, I got you!”

When Blair turned stunned eyes on him, Jim smiled and said sarcastically, “It’s a miracle.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Blair demanded.

“I didn’t want to take any chances. This way, the mob truly believes him to be dead. He should be safe so long as he stays here.”

Blair smiled widely and he turned back to Marcus. “Oh, man. Oh, man. This is… great. Marcus… I’m so sorry about judging you, earlier.”

“It’s all right,” Marcus said softly. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to me again.”

“Vow of silence? Me? Not possible,” Blair said warmly.

Marcus sighed sadly. “It might still be. I promised to tell you my secret.”

“Marcus, really, if you don’t want to-“

“No, I need to. Jim was right about that.” The older man took a deep breath, then locked gazes with the younger. “Blair… you’re my son.”

Blue eyes blinked, startled, uncomprehending for a moment. Then he whispered harshly, “What?”

“I met your mother when I was still Jackie Kozinski, gangster. She thought I was just a businessman. Then, I got cocky and I confessed. She… didn’t take it too well. I had thought she’d stay with me, get married. I knew she was pregnant, even though she hadn’t told me. But… Naomi, well, she didn’t cotton to the idea of being a gangster’s wife. So, she left. And I… I had fallen in love with her. It hurt terribly when she left. I kept track of her for a few years after you were born, but my heart wasn't in the gangster thing anymore. She’d taken it with her, and part of it was yours, too. So, I got the crazy idea that I would go straight, confess my crimes, become an informant, and Naomi would take me back and we’d all live happily ever after. I never thought I’d be put into the Witness Protection Program.”

Blair started to tremble. “You… you’re my… father?”

Marcus nodded, his blue eyes desperate and pleading. “Yes, Blair. When you arrived at the monastery so many years ago, I took one look at you, heard your name, and knew who you were, who’s son you had to be.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…?”

“Blair… how do you tell the son you’ve loved all his life that you were once a gangster, responsible for heinous crimes? We… we’d become good friends. I was desperate to keep your good thoughts. I wanted you to come see me again, not leave me behind for good. Selfish, I know, but I was ashamed of admitting what I had been to you, and terrified that you would disown me for it. I just… wanted to keep a little bit of you,” Marcus said sadly.

Blair stood silently for a long, long moment. Then he huffed a harsh bark of laughter. “Guess it hardly matters now, does it?” he grumbled. “Like father, like son. You were a criminal and I’m involved with one. Shit! This is just fuckin’ peachy.”

Marcus frowned. “What do you mean, ‘involved’?”

Blair froze for a moment, then shook his head. “I work for him. I’ve even covered up for him a few times. Guess that makes me a criminal, too. Yep, definitely like father, like son.”

The older man let out a small moan. “Blair… I’m sorry…”

Sandburg shook his head. “I can’t… deal with this right now.” He started to walk away, then abruptly turned back, leaned down, and hugged Marcus carefully. “I do love you, though. I’ll talk to you soon. Be good.” And then he walked away to go sit in the garden.

Marcus sighed and watched him go, then turned a hard glare on Jim. “If you hurt my boy, Ellison, by God, I’ll come out of ‘retirement’ and kill you myself!”

Jim nodded. “If I hurt him, Marcus, I’ll let you. I like him, okay? For his usefulness, and for himself as he is. I don’t want to hurt him; I don’t plan to.”

The older man nodded, then settled back down on the gurney. The nearby ambulance attendants took that as a sign that the conversations were finished and stepped forward to load him into the back of it. He really did need to go to the hospital.

Jim turned and walked away to join Jeremy and Theodore. Grinning, he pulled a one-hundred dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to the younger monk.

“Here’s that C-note, Brother Theodore. I never doubted you’d make it.”

“Thank you,” Theodore said, accepting it, and walked away towards the office where he’d put it into the collection box.

“Thanks,” Jim murmured after him, then turned to look at a clearly troubled Jeremy. “Is something wrong, Jeremy?”

The abbot sighed. “I must admit, I’m having trouble accepting responsibility for my violent actions.”

“Although, you did keep several people I like and admire from being hurt or killed,” Jim said, then smiled slyly. “But, if it helps any, I forgive you.”

Jeremy chuckled, then gave a polite little bow. “Thank you, Brother Jim.”

He turned and walked away. Jim resisted the urge to be prankster-ish and refrained from calling out “Nice ass!” as the abbot walked away.

Chuckling to himself at the thought of it, he turned and wandered over to the bench that Blair was sitting on and settled down lightly beside his guide, draping an arm around the younger man’s shoulders.

“You know, next time we go away for a little peace and quiet, I’m going to choose the place,” Jim said conversationally.

“Okay,” Blair mumbled. “Where?”

“I dunno. I’m thinking a little contrast would be nice. Maybe Vegas.”

Sandburg gave a snort of laughter. “Sin City? Fine, great, but don’t tell the monks that. It’s sacrilegious. Gotta admit, though, I’m not all that fond of Vegas, although, from an anthropological point of view, it’s a smorgasbord of study opportunities.”

Jim sighed and tugged his guide closer to him, feeling the sweet weight of Blair’s head settling on his shoulder. “Well, I guess that rules out the favor I was going to ask the brothers.”

“What favor?”

“I was going to ask Brother Theodore to bless my dice. Or maybe my pool cue.”

Blair laughed and turned to press his face into the fabric of Jim’s jacket. “You know what would be great?” he murmured. “A cabin, preferably in the mountains, where it’s just us with nobody else around except wild animals of the four-legged or winged kind.”

Jim smiled. “Really? Well, then, I’m about to make you happy. When we get back to the truck, I’ll call Ms. Murphy and the others and tell them we’re heading to my cabin retreat up in the mountains. It’s only a four-hour drive from here. I’ll tell them to stay put and I’ll call if we need them.”

The younger man lifted his head. “You mean it?” he asked softly.

“I mean it. A spacious, luxurious mountain cabin, just for the two of us. With a hot tub, even. Just have to stop at a grocery store and pick up some food.”

“Oh, Jim, wow, this is great…!”

Ellison laughed and kissed his guide quickly, controlling the skirl of heat that swept through him. “You are ridiculously easy to please.”

Blair tensed for a moment, then scooted away, blushing.

Jim frowned and pulled him close again, cupping Blair’s chin in his palm and forcing the younger man to look at him. “Oh, no, none of that. It’s too late to back out, now.”

“Jim-“

“I wouldn’t let you get away with it earlier, I'll be damned if I’ll let you do it now. We’ve had the taste of each other, Sandburg. You know it can be good between us.”

“But… I still can’t… you’re a killer. You killed Anthony….”

“Yes, I did. He paid for killing Timothy and Christopher.” Then Jim smiled humorlessly, an expression Blair hadn’t seen for a few days. “It’s the natural way of things amongst killers like me, Chief. Someday, someone will kill me for what I’ve done. If you’re lucky, it’ll be someday soon.”

“No!” Blair shouted, reaching out instinctively to grip Jim’s shoulders tightly.

A sardonic eyebrow raised. “Does this mean you’re not thrilled with the idea?”

Blair frowned. “Of course I’m not. I know I think you should be punished, but not dead!” He let go slowly and sat back. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. I can’t reconcile what you are-“

Jim used his senses to ascertain that no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to them. They were alone, and he took advantage of that fact. Reaching out, he grabbed Blair and yanked him up and onto his lap, situating the younger man’s buttocks against the growing bulge in his own pants.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he growled, pushing up hard against the younger man, listening with delight to the shocked, aroused gasp Blair gave. “Tell me you don’t want that level of pleasure again. Because I can give it to you whenever you want it and you know it.”

“Jim-“

“Tell me,” the sentinel whispered heatedly, his mouth only centimeters from Blair’s. “Tell me that you don’t want me to lie down like your own personal whore and let you fuck me up the ass. Hard. C’mon, baby, tell me.”

Blair whimpered, need igniting deep inside him. “I can’t,” he said, his voice quavering with restrained desire. “I can’t and you know that. Damn you to hell, you know it!”

“I’ll probably wind up there eventually, yes, but before I do, I’ll have had all of you, willingly,” Jim growled, and kissed his young partner lustily.

With a groan, Blair surrendered himself to the kiss, knowing that later, once they got to the cabin, Jim would have his way, giving him pleasure and making him come so hard he could feel his teeth sweat. Fine. If that was all he could get, then he’d take it while he could.

****

“Chief. C’mon, baby, wake up.”

Blair moaned a sleepy protest, although he did enjoy the sensation of soft, warm lips trailing lazily down his bare back. He stretched drowsily and snuggled against the sheets and pillows even as the covers were tugged down past his hips, those tantalizing lips following.

A rich chuckle reached his ears and he smiled slightly as that rolling, purring voice, usually so cold and sarcastic, said warmly enough, “C’mon, Sandburg. I need to go to a meeting pretty soon. I want you to come with me.”

Sighing, Blair rolled over onto his back and lazily opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as he looked up at an equally naked Jim Ellison. “Come with you? Sure. But shouldn’t we do something first? I don’t get off on just that, you know.”

Ellison chuckled as he shifted to kneel over the prone body of his guide and lover. “My, my, how times have changed,” he teased sarcastically. “A month ago, you were snarling at me if I dared to even smile at you in a lusty manner. Now, here you are, practically inviting me to have my wicked way with you.”

“And if I am…?” Blair said with a sultry grin, ignoring the subtle inquiry into his change of behavior. He didn’t want to explain himself; he most certainly didn’t want to even think about it.

Jim’s blue eyes went blazing hot and he lost all playfulness as he stared down at the younger man. “I think,” he murmured, “that if you are… then I want you to suck me off.”

Sandburg’s heart leapt into his throat and he shivered at the hot coil of lust that swirled through his groin. “Then you had better come up here,” he said with quiet, heated desire.

“I plan to,” Jim said, his smile chill for a moment, and then he began scooting up, moving quickly to straddle Blair’s torso and then lean up over his guide, gripping the headboard. He looked down the length of his body and saw that his half-hard penis hovered within inches of that lush mouth, and he smirked. “So do something about it, Chief.”

Sighing softly, Blair’s eyelids drooped half-closed and he angled up to take Jim’s cock into his mouth. He sucked gently, flicking lightly with his tongue, and was rewarded with the immediate stiffening and lengthening of the organ.

“Ahhhhh, yeah,” Jim sighed, and he let his eyes close as his hips began moving gently, thrusting in and out of Blair’s mouth. “Yeah, Chief. Man, you have the most fuckable mouth….”

A muffled snort told him that Blair was amused, most likely wondering if it was an insult or a compliment. Smiling, he began moving faster as he muttered, “Definitely a good thing. The way your lips wrap around me so tightly, the way your tongue knows just where to touch… so hot, so wet… ahhhhhhhh….”

Squirming, Blair brought up a single finger and gathered moisture on the tip of it, then brought it around to the clenching ass cheeks above him. He spread them gently, holding them slightly apart, then let his moistened finger rest against Jim’s pucker firmly enough so the sentinel could feel it, but no penetration. He let Jim’s own movements rub his finger back and forth across the sensitive portal and judging from the way the older man began moving frantically, he liked it.

A few moments later, Jim pulled free of his mouth abruptly, Blair’s jaw snapping closed with an audible click. Bewildered, he looked up as Jim kissed him hard and then pulled away, gasping, “Changed my mind; want you in me. Want to come around you.”

A huge shudder of lust ripped through Blair and he pushed Jim backwards, the sentinel shifting to roll onto his back as his guide immediately followed, kneeling up over him. Then he dug beneath the pillows and brought up the tube of lubricant they kept close at hand. The bed being as large as it was, frequently, neither of them wanted to wait the long seconds it would take to get to the edge of it simply to root through one of the bedside tables.

Jim grinned ferally up at his partner and spread his legs wide, bringing his knees up. “Do me, Sandburg. Fuck me hard. I want to walk around all day with the reminder of you up my ass. I wanna sit down today and get hard again when I feel the bruises I want you to leave on my skin.”

Blair groaned. They’d been having sex for a month and Jim had bottomed a few times already. But only a few times, because he was a total slut for it, knowing that Blair could never do him serious damage and yet give him ultimate pleasure. On sensitive sentinel nerves and skin, it literally left Jim fucked raw, but he enjoyed the exertion that left him that way, so he ignored the minor discomfort that resulted.

“Yes,” the younger man whispered gutturally. “Yes, I’ll give it to you. So good, like always….”

“Yes. Like always,” Jim echoed, his expression becoming strangely intense before he laid his head back on the pillows.

Blair shifted over his sentinel, his lover, and began feasting his way down Jim’s body, nipping and kissing and tasting and teasing everything from Jim’s lips to his navel, rimming it, then moving further down to tease the soft, curly pubic hair at the base of the large, erect shaft. Then he slid down so that he lay flat on the mattress, his chin resting on the bed, and he parted the cheeks once again and began stroking Jim’s entrance with his tongue. He licked quickly, softly, and then hard and forcefully, pushing his tongue through the opening until it was up inside, thrusting gently in and out.

Jim moaned and shuddered at the delicious sensations that swirled through him. He panted for breath as his body responded to the wonderful torture. He scissored his legs around Blair’s neck, trapping his guide as the younger man ate him with a passionate urgency, focused on one task: to bring his sentinel pleasure. When Blair pulled back and fingered him with a lube covered digit, Jim moaned again and rolled his hips fluidly. Abruptly, Blair slid around, moving into the time-honored and tested 69 position, knees on either side of Jim’s head, his groin above the older man’s face.

Ellison looked up and watched the well-endowed penis lowering to his lips and he opened his mouth, letting it enter smoothly. At the same time, he felt Blair’s tongue and fingers go back to work on his hole, wetting and stretching him carefully and thoroughly, even as he kept his hips poised above Jim’s face, letting the sentinel do all the work. For long, long moments, the only sounds in the room were those of their tongues working on each other and soft sighs and tiny, hungry moans. Neither of them gave a thought to what they were outside of this moment: sentinel and guide, cold criminal and helpless prisoner - nothing could touch them. At this moment, all they were was two men concentrating on each other’s pleasure, giving and taking endlessly.

Blair drove in deep with his fingers as he slid his tongue in along side them and Jim let out a choked cry, his hips driving upwards as one of those fingers brushed his prostate. Then Blair was off him, whirling around to kneel between his thighs, his gaze locked heatedly with Jim’s as he urgently slicked up his cock. In a brief moment, Blair was ready and he leaned up and over the larger man, his dick poised and smooth and glistening wet, and then his hips dropped down, his cock surging forward into his sentinel. Jim thrust his own hips up off the bed to meet him and his long legs lifted to dig into Blair’s sides, letting out a long, low, lush groan of pleasure as Blair seemed to travel into him forever, filling him up completely.

His strong hands clutched at Blair’s equally strong shoulders as he moaned, lifting up and rolling his hips to meet the younger man’s thrusts head on, receiving the powerful, hard fucking he had demanded. He could already feel bruises forming on the skin of his ass cheeks as Blair’s trim hips slammed into him, again and again, even as he felt his guide’s teeth close around one of his nipples and tug carefully, a hot, wet tongue lashing at the tightened flesh.

Their rhythm synchronized; Blair moved faster and so did Jim, both of them in harmony. Their mating became frenzied and powerful, both of them striving towards orgasm with desperation and purpose, soft grunts and gasps punctuating the sound of flesh slapping slickly against flesh.

Blair lifted his head and saw Jim watching him, his blue eyes fired with a desperate hunger, and he grinned wickedly. He teased the sentinel, slowing down to a leisurely rhythm and then rolled his hips sharply, grinding over the sensitive gland inside Jim when the older man opened his mouth to bark out an order to speed up. Instead, a startled yelp emerged, followed by an ecstatic cry as Jim’s head fell back, his body arching up. He began muttering nonsensical words of pleasure that Blair instinctively translated into orders for more, more, more. He gave it to his partner, until finally, he suddenly began trip hammering inside his lover once again, fucking hard and fast into the strong, sculpted body.

Abruptly, Jim’s passage clenched hard around Blair’s cock and he arched his back as a scream of pleasure ripped out of him. His untouched dick throbbed urgently as his body relieved its load, spurting his seed in frantic bursts between them, his ass muscles rippling around Blair - who was slamming smoothly all the way in and all the way out and back in again - in an intoxicating rhythm as the big body shuddered with ecstasy.

Whimpering with need, fearful of being left behind, Blair focused everything he had on driving into Jim over and over again, his breath coming in quick, short pants as he fucked his way towards orgasm, shuddering as Jim continued to milk his cock with the remnants of his orgasm. He felt his lungs straining for air, his heart near to bursting, his balls tightening almost unbearably… and then his convulsions merged with Jim’s as he thrust his penis so deeply into the older man that for a moment, Jim was afraid he couldn’t breathe.

Blair let out a sharp cry that sounded like the wail of a wolf as he dug himself in deeper, squirming to get closer, his dick savagely straining for just a few more millimeters. Then he collapsed, clinging to Jim with desperation and shuddering hard as his hips snapped involuntarily, pumping him in and out as he emptied his load deep inside his lover.

Finally, eventually, Blair finished and he lay unmoving and gasping atop Jim’s chest as the sentinel held his guide close, sheltering him from the internal storm.

Then he rolled and placed Blair gently on the mattress, the younger man sliding free from his body, and he sighed at the sensation, wishing he could take it again right then. Smirking to himself, he brushed Blair’s sweaty bangs from his face and then leaned down to press a quick kiss to lax lips.

“Go back to sleep, Chief,” he said softly, and scooted to the edge of the bed and then sat up.

Unable to open his eyes, Blair mumbled, “Thought y’ had a meetin’… wanted m’ at.”

Jim chuckled. “I do. But I wanted sex with you first and that always makes you sleepy. Figured if I woke you up early, we could get sweaty and come-covered, and then you could sleep a little while longer before you really do have to get up.”

Blair sighed exhaustedly. “Sneaky, Jim. Really sneaky,” he slurred, and then dropped into sleep like an anvil into a lake: fast and hard.

Jim laughed, knowing his young partner would never hear him, and made his way into his bathroom so he could shower up.

As he stood beneath the spray, letting the hot water soak into stretched and sore muscles before soaping up, he considered how very good he had it right now. Once Blair had given in to him at the monastery, they had gone on to his cabin up in the mountains, spending most of their time fucking and sucking each other into oblivion. Blair had been resistant a few more times the first day up there, but then he had given in eagerly, more often than not initiating their sex sessions, which confused the hell out of the sentinel. What had happened to the younger man’s convictions? Blair had claimed that he couldn’t reconcile Jim’s way of life despite the attraction he felt to the older man; now, suddenly, he was turning into Ellison’s own personal sex kitten? Although, quite frankly, the idea of Blair as a “kitten” made him snort with wry amusement. All in all, Blair’s behavior had him thoroughly confused. It was a mystery that he would have to get to the bottom of… eventually. For now, he was enjoying the hot, lusty, mind blowing sex the younger man was giving him on a regular basis.

They’d spent two weeks up there and then had gone back to his mansion. And while he had not made any outright invitations, he had not made any protests, either, when Blair had simply joined him in his own bedroom that evening. Very rarely did the younger man sleep in his own room.

Ellison frowned as he rinsed off, stretching to let the water get everywhere. When did I let him move into my personal space? he wondered silently. Sure, the kid is a good lay, but it’s not as though we’re life partners, and I like my privacy, my own territory. So why do I like having him in it so much? Why am I not minding him being part of that “territory”?

Irritated at these silent musings, Jim snapped the water off sharply and stepped out of the shower, swiftly toweling himself dry before moving, completely naked, out to the bedroom again. He stood for a long moment, staring at the sleeping form in his bed, and felt a spurt of meanness. He wanted to give in to it, to jostle the tired younger man awake and snarl at him to go to his own room. But he knew if he did that, he’d receive a confused, hurt look that Blair would quickly push down before concentrating on trying to find out what the problem was, nagging at Jim to give him details. And how was he going to tell his guide that he was feeling scared because he liked the kid? Liked having him around?

Shit!

Sighing, Jim walked over to his closet, opened the doors, and walked inside. He stood before the rack that held his suits, deliberating, and finally chose the dark gray suit with the subtle silver pinstripes. He chose a white shirt to go with it and a blue and silver tie. He carried them out to the bedroom and dressed quickly and neatly, slipping on a pair of black silk boxers beneath, with black socks on his feet. He pulled on his pants, slipped on his Italian leather shoes, then pulled on his shirt, fastening it and tucking it into his pants neatly, which he then fastened closed. He tucked a belt through the belt loops and then settled the tie under the collar of his shirt, knotting it efficiently and tucking it up against his neck. He quickly brushed his hair into place, frowning at the hairline that was sitting back farther and farther every day, and then turned to pick up his jacket.

He paused as he passed the bed, knowing he wouldn’t be waking Blair up for another hour. He stared down at his sleeping guide and decided to make choosing an outfit easier for the younger man. He had made Blair meet with his tailor and after the man had taken his measurements, had paid for five brand new, exquisitely designed and very expensive suits for his guide, despite Blair’s protests that it was too much money to spend on him on something he didn’t even want. Jim had retorted that he didn’t want his guide embarrassing him if he happened to take him somewhere that required dressing in something other than “grunge”.

Knowing that the person he was meeting with wouldn’t mind dressy casual, Jim walked down the hall to Blair’s room (“old room,” his mind taunted him, which he told to shut the hell up) and rifled through the closet and bureau drawers to retrieve appropriate clothing, carried them back down the hall to his room, and spread them at the foot of the bed on the side not being occupied currently. Then he left the room to go down to his home office to get a bit of work done before he had to prod the unconscious lump out of bed.

An hour later, he got up from his desk, stretched powerfully, and then headed upstairs to his room. Opening the door, he wandered inside and stood by the side of the bed. An involuntary smile twitched his lips as he looked at the tangled mess Blair Sandburg was at the moment. Tangled hair spilling across beard-stubbled cheeks and a slightly open, wet, pouty mouth; limbs tangled in the sheets and blankets; scent of semen and musk all around him.

Vaguely wishing that he had time to use this sexual feast spread out before him, Jim merely leaned over, grabbed some of the covers, and yanked.

Blair was awakened as he basically rolled towards the foot of the bed, flopping over onto his back as his eyes flashed open, staring up sightlessly with panic for a brief moment. Then he saw Jim, fully dressed, grinning down at him with that trademark chill smile. “Jim…?”

“Time to wake up, Chief,” Ellison purred, his smile turning slightly mocking, and Blair mentally groaned. Sometime between falling asleep after their morning sex and waking up now, Jim had slipped into one of those moods. He could tell the rest of the day was going to be stressful if the sentinel had a bug up his ass about something.

“Right, okay. What should I wear…?” Blair mumbled blearily as he began squirming his way out of his blanket cocoon.

“I laid out an outfit for you. That ought to be good enough. Hurry up and get ready. We’re pulling out of here in an hour and a half. That should leave you enough time to bathe, dry your hair, get dressed, and have a quick breakfast. What do you want?”

“Bagel with cream cheese and orange juice. That’ll be fine,” the younger man replied as he slid off the edge of the bed and stood, stretching.

Jim’s eyes roved hotly up and down the length of the shorter, hairier body, and his nose twitched at the scents that permeated the air. “Fine. Get showered and dressed, quickly.”

Blair turned and saw the desire that Jim wasn’t quite quick enough to hide, and smiled. He strolled closer and smiled seductively at the older man. “You sure you want quick? I can help you quickly enough….”

Abruptly, Jim’s mood darkened into something hot and nasty. His hand lashed out and he caught a handful of Blair’s hair in a tight fist, yanking the startled guide closer to him. His blue eyes flashing, he growled, “We don’t have time, you little slut. I thought I had made that clear. Now, get cleaned up so we can be out of here on time. When we get back, if you want, I’ll use you. I’ll do it hard and nasty and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you come when I’m done.”

With that, he shoved Blair in the general direction of the bathroom, loosening his grip so he wouldn’t tear out a handful of hair by the roots.

Stunned by the abrupt coldness, a level of which he hadn’t seen since before they became lovers, Blair caught himself against the doorjamb of the bathroom, steadied himself, then quietly entered the washroom and shut the door behind him, all without looking back at the tall, angry man who currently controlled his life.

Sighing, Jim ran his hand through his hair roughly, then smoothed his hair back down before leaving the bedroom, trying to get a handle on his sudden anger. He shied away from wondering what brought it on; it didn’t matter, he told himself, over and over. It didn’t matter a damn.

An hour later, Blair appeared downstairs in the small dining room freshly washed, shaved, and dressed, his hair clean and blow-dried and brushed to silky fullness. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans with nary a hole or stain on them, the sturdy leather boots that Jim had bought him, his black turtleneck and he carried with him the golden-tan corduroy jacket that Jim had selected to go with it.

Jim, who had heard him coming down the stairs, met him in the dining room and looked him over, nodding approval. He offered a chill smile and said, “You clean up nice, Sandburg. But, then again, I knew that.”

“Thanks,” Blair grunted, not meeting the ice blue eyes as he sat down at the table where his breakfast was waiting.

He began eating his low-fat blueberry bagel slathered with fat-free cream cheese while Jim sat down at the head of the table and began filling him in.

“We’re going to go meet with a man and sometimes business partner of mine by the name of Hector Carasco. He’s a Chilean expatriate who lives half an hour from here. The cops don’t know about him, but he has a sealed Federal file.”

Blair rolled his eyes. “Which means that the law actually does know about him?”

“In a manner of speaking. Because he was a big shot in Chile and then was exiled, they’re keeping tabs on him. The rest of us, because he’s so useful, do our best to blind the Feds to what he’s up to. Especially one A.T.F agent by the name of Drennan. Woman’s like a damn Juggernaut; she just won’t stop.”

The younger man sighed. “And just what is he up to? Or do I not want to know? And I say more power to this Drennan woman; it’s her job to stop people like him… and you.”

Jim ignored the snark; he knew it was payment for the way he’d treated Blair earlier. “Most likely not. He’s a weapons smuggler. One of the biggest illegal arms dealers in the Northwest. Actually, his real name is Julio Escobon. He’s a gunrunner to the Contras for the C.I.A. What he does is takes guns made for the military, files off the serial numbers, and sells them on the black market.”

Blair frowned, chewing thoughtfully. “Wait a minute… that means anyone on the street can buy them if they have enough money, right?”

“Yes.”

“So that bank heist that included all those paramilitary weapons… machine guns, assault rifles, a rocket launcher? And what about that passenger train that was derailed by three punks with a grenade launcher?”

Jim smiled ferally and remained quiet.

Blair paled and took a hasty gulp of orange juice to keep his throat working. “My God. Officers died with no chance at saving themselves in that bank heist. There were armor piercing bullets being used! And that train! Three people died - one of ‘em was just a kid - and thirteen more were severely injured! Good God, how can you condone that… that….”

“Are you kidding?” Jim laughed. “I was the one who helped those thieves with the bank heist. I split those profits with them 60/40. I was magnanimous in that, actually; I let them keep the bulk of their gains.”

The younger man shivered, his hand clenching around the glass. “I remember reading about the cops’ funerals. You made this big point of paying for their funerals and then donated a large amount of money to the Police Killed In The Line Of Duty Fund.”

Jim smiled in fond remembrance. “And I still made a profit of twenty-thousand dollars when those guys turned over my share of the take. That was a pretty good joke on the cops, though.”

Blair surged to his feet, trembling with anger. “It was not a joke!” he yelled, and flung the glass at the wall behind Jim’s head with all his might before turning and leaving the room in a blind haze.

He’d made it as far as the outer foyer before rough hands grabbed him from behind and spun him around quickly. In less time than it took to blink, he found himself slammed hard against the front door, the bodyguards who had come running fading away when they saw that their boss had everything under control.

Jim pinned his guide to the door with his own body, glaring down at the younger man who stared up at him with hurt and volatile anger. “Don’t get into a snit with me, kid; you’ve known all along what I am and what I’m capable of. And don’t you ever throw anything at me again, Sandburg, or I’ll deck you so hard you’ll wake up cross-eyed, got it?”

His lips skimming back, baring his teeth, Blair ground out in a choked voice, “One of those cops who died was a friend of mine. I tutored his son and we got to be good friends when I started keeping him informed of his son’s progress. And you killed him.”

“Wrong, Chief; the guys who pulled the triggers-“

“You financed them! You helped them! My friend is dead because of you!” Blair yelled as loud as he could.

Jim winced at the noise level and dialed down his hearing with a glare. “That may be, but there’s nothing you can do about it, either then or now. We’re going to go see Carasco now and you are going to be on your best behavior.”

“Why am I being invited along anyway?” Blair spat, struggling against his captor. “You know how I feel about criminals!”

Jim laughed suddenly, his teeth flashing whitely, and he pressed closer, his hips bumping lightly and rhythmically against Blair’s. “Oh, yeah,” he said huskily. “I know how you feel about criminals. This criminal, in particular.” When Blair paled, his heart pounding harder, Jim laughed again. “I know you want me. I know you love it when I fuck you. I know you really love it when I let you fuck me. And I know that you’ll let me do it whenever I want to. You’ll let me fuck you again.”

“No!” Blair shouted, pushing angrily against the larger body. “Not again! Not ever-“

Jim’s mouth cut him off from any further protests as the older man kissed him hard, powerfully … seductively.

Blair let out a strangled moan and tried hard to continue his struggles even as his body automatically responded to the sentinel’s touches.

Finally, Jim lifted his head, both of them panting harshly, and as his eyes met Blair’s, he saw the stubborn resistance in the dark blue gaze, and the deep hurt as well. Ignoring both, he smiled coldly and murmured, “Fine. Be that way. It’s not like you’re the only one around that I can fuck. Power is good for lots of things; willing bed partners is one of them. So until you come to your senses…. Anyway, the reason you’re going to Carasco’s with me is because you’re an anthropologist who specializes in South American culture. I want you with me as sort of a ‘translator’. I’ll let you know what I need. I assume you can speak Spanish?”

Blair trembled hard. “What the hell makes you think I’ll help you?”

Jim’s smile became downright glacial. “Because you know what’s good for you.”

The younger man thought about snapping back a response that he knew Jim had no intention of killing him… but then decided not to push his luck. “Not killing him” did not translate to “no pain”. And he was already hurting enough….

“Fine,” he whispered, slumping dejectedly in Jim’s hold.

Ellison ignored the small flinch he felt somewhere in his soul, stamping it down and out of existence as he slowly released his guide. “Good. Go get your jacket and meet me back here.”

Swallowing hard, Blair quickly scooted past the taller man and headed back to the small dining room to collect the corduroy jacket. When he returned, Allison, Gary, and Nate stood at a respectful distance from their boss, all of them waiting for him. As he approached, three pairs of eyes promised painful retribution if he acted up any further.

Sighing, he followed Jim outside when the sentinel exited through the front door to where the waiting limo sat, door open. They climbed inside, Allison and Gary following them in, while Nate moved to sit up front beside the driver, Jeff Dooley.

Half an hour later, they had arrived at Carasco’s mansion. They were met at the door by Bianca, the maid. She flicked her eyes over Blair intently, having never seen him before.

“It’s okay, Bianca,” Jim said, flashing a charming smile at the middle-aged woman he knew carried a gun tucked into a holster hidden beneath her sweater and could fire with perfect and deadly accuracy. “He’s with me and completely safe.”

Her brown eyes snapped a silent warning that Blair had better be and then she led the way further into the house.

Blair paused as they passed the bottom of a set of stairs, his eyes alighting on an exquisite painting. “Oh, wow… a Benitez!” he murmured to the others, who had paused as well and were watching him. “When I was in Brazil, I saw some of his work at an exhibition at the National Museum. He claims he collects plants from the rain forest to make his colors.”

“And that’s why no one has been able to match his vibrancy,” said a man who appeared, looking as though he were in his late fifties. He walked down the stairs and paused beside Blair, glancing over at Jim and then back down at the shorter, younger man. He smiled charmingly, if a trifle coldly. “Not many Americans know Benitez.”

Blair gulped; he recognized the lethalness of the older man that lurked behind the charming smile. “I… I’m an anthropologist,” he mumbled quickly. “I specialize in… in South American culture.”

“I see.” Carasco glanced at Ellison, who now stood beside them. “This is your recent… acquisition, Jim?”

Jim flashed his own cold smile and nodded. “Yes. He’s a trifle… reluctant… around people like us, but he knows which side his bread is buttered on.” Ellison’s subtle way of saying that Blair would keep his trap shut, or else. “Hector Carasco, meet Blair Sandburg. Chief, this is Hector Carasco.”

The two men shook hands, although Hector frowned. “Sandburg… I have heard of you before. I can’t quite remember where, though.”

Blair had a fairly good idea from who Carasco had heard about him, but he remained mute.

“Ah, well. Shall we sit down to drinks? There is much I wish to discuss with you, Jim,” Hector said amiably, and led the way into his downstairs parlor, ordering beverages for them in rapid-fire Spanish. “Bebidas, Bianca, inmediato, gracias!”

They sat down in the parlor and drinks were quickly brought. Blair took a polite sip of the bourbon set before him and then set it down away from himself. He noticed Carasco’s watchful eye and shrugged. “I’m sorry; I’m not much of a drinker. Can’t hold my liquor too well.”

“Hmm. My mistake; as a host, I should have asked for your preference. I’m used to Ellison wanting something stronger. Your preference, please…?” Hector asked politely.

“Iced tea would be wonderful, thank you,” Blair said, equally politely, wishing he could get the hell out of this snake den.

“Bianca…”

The maid, still standing near the door, nodded and disappeared quickly. She was back a few moments later with a tall, cool glass of lightly sweetened iced tea, which she then handed to Blair, who took an appreciative sip and smiled. “Ah, much better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Sandburg.”

Hector gestured for her to leave and then cast an appraising eye at the younger man. “Mr. Sandburg… do you see that collection over there? Would you do me the immense favor of taking a look at them and telling me what you think of them? If you are half the cultural anthropologist I suspect you are, you can tell me quite a great deal about them.”

Blair looked to where Carasco was pointing and felt his breath catch at the exquisite collection of pottery, figurines, and sculptures that adorned one wall. He literally drooled at the anthropological wet dream before him and he walked over in a daze.

Behind him, knowing that his mind was caught by academic wonders, the two criminals exchanged sly smiles and quietly began talking about their plans for the latest shipments of guns to be brought in.

And fifteen minutes later, things went bad.

“Father!”

The excited call came through the closed parlor doors and then a quick knock before they were opened and a tall, slender, beautiful young woman came flying through, her face wreathed in a large smile.

She was walking towards the smiling Hector Carasco when the pale young man who stood by the artifacts, watching her warily, caught her eye. She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening dramatically and her mouth rounding. “Blair?” she whispered.

Sandburg swallowed hard, then smiled at her almost pleasantly. “Maya,” he said softly.

The young woman let out a joyous squeal and abruptly rushed over to him, throwing her arms around Blair’s neck and kissing him soundly.

Jim and Hector sat frozen in their seats for a moment, and then they stood up, neither of them looking pleased.

“Maya,” Hector rumbled in a chill voice, “is there something you wish to tell me, mi corazon?”

Maya pulled back, smiling shyly, her eyes shining with pleasure. “Papa! This is Blair Sandburg! Remember? I told you about him! He is the anthropological professor I was working for at Rainier until he left on sabbatical.”

When Hector’s eyes shifted frigidly to him, Blair shook his head and mumbled, “Not a professor. Teaching fellow and grad student.”

“I see. And my daughter… worked… for you?” he asked frostily.

Blair’s eyes widened as he got the implication and then he frowned darkly. “Absolutely not. Not the way you’re implying, at any rate, Mister Carasco. There has never been anything untoward in my friendship and working relationship with Maya. I would never do something like that; it would be unethical.” His eyes added the silent message: Not that you would understand that.

Maya giggled, blushing slightly. “Papa, he is telling the truth. I was the one who chased him. Not that he caught me. I wanted him to be more but he flatly refused me, for exactly that reason. Said it would not be right. Then he left.” She turned a pouting expression on him. “But if you are back from your sabbatical, why haven’t you returned to Rainier, Blair? We have all missed you.” Then she leaned forward for another hug, letting Blair’s and her long hair hide their mouths as she added, “And if you are not a teacher anymore… I have saved myself for you, Blair.”

Jim was the only one who heard her. His spine stiffened with territorial outrage even as he admired Sandburg’s ability to remain expressionless with such a statement.

“Um… that’s, uh, that’s… nice, Maya,” Blair said awkwardly, patting her back, and then stepping quickly away from her. “No, I’m not back from my sabbatical. I’m taking a break from teaching and studying for a while. Mr. Ellison hired me on as a cultural expert for his firm.”

Maya looked over at Jim, her expression wide-eyed and innocent as she smiled. “Oh! How nice. He’s a good man to work for, Blair, I know. He has business dealings with my papa all the time. But where are you, then? I went by your warehouse but everything’s gone.”

“You what, Maya?” Hector asked, amazed.

Maya blushed as she turned an “I’m so adorable, Daddy, you don’t want to be mad at me, do you?” smile on her father. “I missed him, Papa. Blair is a very good man… so smart, so special, and a good friend. I wanted to make certain he was alright.”

Jim was the only one of the two criminals who saw the incendiary gaze she sent to Blair that also said: “And I wanted to rip my clothes off and give myself to you, O Sex-Lord Master of Desire.”

It only pissed Ellison off further.

Blair gulped and paled under her heated gaze and quickly glanced away.

“So, where are you then, Blair, if you are not living at your warehouse?”

“He’s staying with me,” Jim said stonily. “I had the space and it made more sense than letting him stay in that deathtrap of a warehouse he called home.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she squealed, her voice reverberating painfully in the sentinel’s head. “Blair, you live so close now! We can see each other sometimes”

“I’m afraid not, Ms. Carasco,” Jim interrupted swiftly. “Blair works on several projects for me and is quite busy. He doesn’t really have time for a social life.”

“He must have some time, Mr. Ellison, or he wouldn’t be here with you,” she returned with a coy pout.

“Mr. Sandburg is here to appraise my collection, corazon, not on a social call. He and Mr. Ellison will be leaving shortly,” Hector put in, eager to put as much distance as he could between his baby and any man that caught her interest.

She sighed. “Okay. Sorry, Papa. Sorry, Blair, Mr. Ellison. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime, Blair. Try to stop by and see everyone if you can. Your friends miss you.”

“Um, I’ll try. But I’m so busy… that’s one of the reasons why nobody knows I’m working with Ellison right now,” Blair put in quickly, thinking fast. “If everyone knew where I was, then I’d be right back to where I started from: always taking on others’ projects, answering late night calls for help, going to parties, studying, devising tests, grading….”

She grinned. “But that’s part of what makes you special, Blair. You’re so generous. Well, if you want me to keep quiet, then I will. It was nice to see you again.”

As she was leaning forward, Blair realized she intended to not only hug him, but kiss him as well. He quickly stepped back and held out his hand, grinning at her. She looked at him, surprised and a bit hurt, but gamely accepted his hand, shaking it. “Nice to see you, Maya. Take care of yourself.”

She then hugged and kissed her father, collected the backpack she’d dropped on her rush over to Blair’s side, and walked out, shutting the doors behind her. Hector started to say something, but Jim held up his hand, indicating the need for silence. A few moments later, he nodded.

“She was hovering by the door, apparently waiting to hear us say something,” he reported.

“You could hear her…?” Carasco asked, intrigued.

Jim shrugged, uncomfortable. “I have pretty good ears. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like something an excitable young woman would do. So I concentrated very, very hard. I could hear her trying to breathe quietly and her jewelry jangling.”

Hector sighed and laughed roughly. “She has always been overly curious; it is something I’ve tried to get her to refrain from, but she continues in her own way. I haven’t the heart to chastise my only child too harshly. I’m glad you seem to be on the lookout, my friend.”

Jim nodded, then looked hard at Blair. “Good thinking,” he said quietly.

“About…?” Blair mumbled back.

“Why she needed to keep quiet about your presence. Good cover story.”

“Oh, yeah. That. Only thing I could think of.”

“Very well done,” Carasco said with grudging admiration.

Blair glared at the middle-aged Chilean. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t like I wanted to expose her to this sordid little world, is it? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Sandburg!” Jim barked harshly, his glare freezing cold.

Hector shook his head, holding up a hand. “He is right, Jim. But I enjoy the money that lets me have what I want and spoil my daughter with what she wants. The only concession I make to the situation is that I have kept Maya in the dark about what I do. She knows only that I was exiled for some patriotic reason to keep peace in my country.”

Blair sighed tiredly. “As long as she’s safe,” he muttered. “She’s a good girl. I’d hate to see her caught up in this.”

“I know that. However, if you would be so kind as to stay away from her….”

“Not a problem, Mr. Carasco. Not only do I think of her only as a friend, but I have a feeling my keeper isn’t going to let me play with the other students,” Blair said sarcastically.

Jim’s eyes flashed blue fire that promised revenge later.

Blair shuddered and turned away.

Just then, another knock on the door sounded and they opened to reveal a mildly pudgy, tall Chilean man. “Senor Carasco, we seem to have a small insect problem in the greenhouse.”

“Thank you, Vargas. Jim, if you’ll excuse me for a few minutes…?”

“Certainly, Hector,” Ellison replied, all honey and charm.

Carasco and Vargas left, the Chilean bodyguard giving them an unreadable look before he left the room.

Their own bodyguards remained silent where they stood, waiting for orders as Jim sat down, urging Blair to sit beside him.

“They’re speaking Spanish, Sandburg,” Jim said quietly, his mouth close to Blair’s ear. “If I repeat it back to you, can you translate what they’re saying? I want to catch any planned surprises.”

“You can repeat them? Sure. And he would really double-cross you?” Blair asked.

“Why not? If he can get away with it, he’ll try it. Now….”

A moment passed, and then Jim began repeating what the two Chileans said as they walked towards the greenhouse, stumbling over the words a few times, but his perfect sentinel recall helping him immensely.

Blair sat beside him, translating.

“…so this is my insect problem’. Vargas said, ‘He was at the docks, asking questions about guns’.”

Jim rattled off another round of repeated Spanish.

“Um… you’re saying one of the words wrong, but I think Hector just said something to whoever’s in the greenhouse with them. Repeat it… yeah. ‘You’re shaking, my friend. Are you afraid? You should be.’ What’s the next - okay, he’s talking to Vargas again. ‘Make sure he tells you all he knows, then remove him from my house, then-‘” and here Blair went totally pale and he stumbled over the last of it. “’-kill him.’” He swallowed hard. “Oh, my God, Jim! He’s going to have that man in there killed!”

“Yup, sounds like it,” Jim agreed.

“Well…?!”

“Well, what?” the older man snapped, irritated.

“Aren’t you going to do something?!” Blair practically shrieked.

“Settle down, Sandburg. No, I’m not going to do anything. Not only is it too late, but how do I explain it? Clearly, the man they’ve got captive is an informant; someone who snitches to the cops about our criminal activities. A lesson needs to be learned here. And if Hector is smart, he’ll realize it means he needs to really keep a lid on his activities-uh-oh.”

“What?” Blair muttered thickly, trying to keep his stomach under control, knowing that there was a man being murdered only a few hundred yards away.

“Well, because I was talking with you, I missed whatever the snitch had to say, but Vargas is reporting to Hector. Get ready to translate again.” Seeing the look on Blair’s face, Jim scowled and said warningly, “Chief.”

“Yeah, yeah. Say ‘when’,” the younger man mumbled.

Jim sighed, listened, and began repeating what was being said between the two Chileans. And frowned a few minutes later when the name “Furukawa” was mentioned in the stream of Spanish.

A few moments later, Blair finished translating and he spied the deep frown on Jim’s face. “What’s wrong? Besides the obvious?”

Jim shot him a look that clearly read “yank my chain now and suffer, Sandburg”, so Blair shut up and waited him out. Finally, Jim sighed and said, “I work closely with Kadama Kenji, of Kada Corps., North America. Not only as a businessman but as a crime lord as well. This thug, Furukawa, is a young punk Yakuza trying to rise up and take Kenji’s place. Furukawa’s been getting big for his britches lately, telling Kenji to back down and let him in or there would be a damn war. There’s no way Kenji’s going to back down. However, from the sounds of it, Furukawa is buying his guns to fight Kenji from Carasco. And if he’s buying military armaments to take out the other Yaks, Cascade is going to look like Beirut. What bothers me now is that Carasco knows about the turf war between Kadama and Furukawa. Looks like he’s trying to help the underling slide in for a piece of the profits.”

“This is a bad thing, then?”

“Yes. Kadama is one of my closest business partners on all accounts; Lazar is the other one. Carasco is the odd-man out and for good reason. Any man who gets exiled from his own country is clearly not someone to work too closely with. Guess that’s been confirmed. Well….”

“So, now what?” Blair asked, fidgeting.

Jim shot him a tight look. “You don’t want to know. Thanks, Sandburg. By the way, if you have your girlfriend’s cell phone number - if she has one - you might try giving her a call and warning her to be somewhere else tonight.”

Blair shot to his feet. “What do you mean - you’re not-“

“Settle down, Chief. I won’t let your girlfriend get hurt,” Jim sneered.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Jim. She never was. But, God, you can’t seriously mean you’re going to have the law brought down on her father and ruin her life?!”

Jim rolled his eyes, his expression pained, and heard the muffled snickers from Gary and Nate. He gave them the Evil Eye and they quickly resumed stoic expressions. Sighing, Jim shook his head. “No, Sandburg, the law is not going to be part of this. Most definitely not.”

Blair went pale yet again. “I think I’d prefer the law, actually,” he whispered hoarsely. “She’s better off shipped out of here and her father in prison than… Jim, please, you can’t… she’s innocent in all this-“

“She might be in the dark about her father’s criminal life, Chief, but that little tramp is not innocent. Not judging by those ‘Come Hither’ looks and the ass wiggle she sent your way.”

Blair shifted uncomfortably. “She made her interest known to me a couple of days before you had me brought to your house. I turned her down and was firm about it. No room for argument. She was a student and my assistant. It would have been wrong. Now, maybe you can’t understand that concept, but for me, it would not have sat well.”

“Don’t get lippy with me, Junior, or I’ll see to it that she doesn’t get out of the line of fire,” Jim growled.

“Jim, can’t you just tip off the cops about this, let them take Hector in and-“

“And what, Chief? Let him get wind of how the cops found out? Through me? And then have him tell everything he knows about me? And how do I explain to the cops how I found out, anyway? Hell, even if he doesn’t find out, he’ll tell what he knows to have his sentence softened. He’ll try to cut a deal by offering up vital information. He’s already proven he’ll double-cross Kadama. God knows what he’ll do to the rest of us.”

“You told me not too long ago that you were criminals and that all of you were capable of double-crossing the other,” Blair argued.

“Not to this extent!” Jim snapped. “We have too much at stake, Kadama and Lazar and I, to let Carasco ruin it now. And after the help they gave me against Brackett, especially Kadama, I have to do what I can to repay that debt now. You might not believe it, Sandburg, but even amongst us criminals, there’s an honor system.”

The younger man was silent for a moment, then he sighed. “If it wouldn’t get me killed, I’d write a paper on the cultural system of the criminal world. I’d be the world’s leading civilian expert in criminal matters in a heartbeat.”

“You’d be dead by the time the first paperback sold,” Jim shot back. “Now get ready. Carasco’s coming back.”

“Jim…” Blair’s expression was pained. “He seems like such a likeable old man. He loves his daughter and he plays with flowers.”

“He also orders men killed and supplies the weapons so that others can be killed,” Jim pointed out.

“So do you, and look what I let you do to me!” Blair hissed.

Jim grinned wickedly. “Think that’s something? Wait'll you see what I do to you when we get home.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Blair growled. “You're never touching me again.”

Ellison’s eyes flashed with deadly intent and Blair shivered, wondering if he’d pushed the man into doing something right then and there. However, the sound of the door being opened interrupted whatever move the sentinel was about to make.

“Jim, I’m sorry it took so long. I do so worry about the condition of my orchids. Such delicate flowers. The insect problem really had to be dealt with,” Hector said with a charming smile as he moved across the room to the now standing Ellison and Sandburg.

“I understand that, Hector. I’m sorry, but I’m late for another appointment, so we really have to be going now.”

The two men shook hands, even as Hector made regretful noises.

Looking at that symbolic gesture of trust and friendship, it was all Blair could do to keep from shrieking to the heavens at the injustice of it all.

Finally, they all left the house and piled into the limo and were on their way back home. When they arrived, they entered the house, the bodyguards splitting up to follow their own routines. Jim and Blair walked slowly through the house until they got to Jim’s downstairs office. They paused for a long moment, looking at each other, and then Jim silently entered his office, quietly and firmly shutting the door between them, locking the younger man out in an obvious gesture that meant he did not want the guide to be part of what was going to happen next.

Blair felt his stomach turn over. He turned and raced upstairs, blasting his way into his old bedroom and then into the bathroom, genuflecting in front of the toilet and emptying the meager contents in his stomach.

Finally, long moments later, Blair got to his feet, shuddering, and rinsed out his mouth first with water, then with a couple of swigs from his mouthwash.

Exiting the bathroom, he paced frantically around his bedroom, pulling off his jacket and throwing it onto the bed. He was crazed with the restless energy to do something. He wanted to call Maya, warn her; wanted to call the cops, warn them. But he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could do either of those things, not without a ton of bad shit coming down on him. And, God help him, but he was too afraid to disregard the consequences.

God help him… he was too afraid to act.

This fact struck home to him and he slowed, then stopped, his pacing. And he crumpled into a sitting position on the floor, buried his face in his hands, and tried to muffle the sobs that tore out of him.

****

Much later that evening, Blair once again stood on the Carasco grounds.

Watching numbly as a few body bags were loaded into the back of a waiting coroner’s wagon.

One of those bags was filled with the mortal remains of Hector Carasco.

Sighing, he glanced over to where Jim was talking with the police, playing “helpful neighbor” and giving up selected information for the cops to feed on, pointing them in certain directions that would satisfy their need to put things to right without shedding light on Ellison’s own criminal activities, or his partners’.

Sighing yet again, he turned and walked away to where Maya sat sobbing in the back of a police cruiser, her feet on the ground, her body wrapped in a blanket, her backpack lying forlornly by the rear tire. She had been at an evening student meeting at Rainier so she had not been present when Kadama’s Yakuza soldiers came to “take care of business” as well as go to the docks to collect the incoming shipment that would have gone to Furukawa.

He crouched down in front of her, placing his hands on a blanket wrapped knee, and peered up at her tear-streaked, grief-ravaged face. “Maya?” he said softly.

She startled, saw him, and her face crumpled. “Oh, Blair!” she sobbed, and threw herself forward against him.

He stood quickly to retain his balance and held her against him in a fierce hug, his heart breaking for her.

He held her and listened as she babbled out the horrid tale of the police coming to collect her during the last few minutes of the meeting, of being informed of an “accident” that had killed her father, Vargas, Bianca, and a few of the other household members. Even her pet cat. She sobbed out the story that the Feds had talked to her, pumped her for information already, and had quietly informed her that her father had been a gun smuggler, a criminal of the worst sort, and while she herself was apparently innocent, they had advised her that it was better for her to go home to Chile where the rest of her family was … and that she agreed with them. That she’d be leaving for her homeland in a few days. The estate had been confiscated by the Feds; the only things she would be allowed to take with her were her belongings, and even those would be thoroughly screened before she could take them.

“Oh, Blair… they even killed my cat…” she cried against his neck, dry, hoarse sobs shaking her thin frame as she cuddled against him, needing comfort.

“Maya… I’m sorry, hon,” he said softly. “I’m really sorry.”

She lifted her head, her brown eyes sparkly with tears, her lashes matted and clumpy, her face splotchy and tear-stained. “Will you miss me?” she asked, her lips and chin quivering.

“Yeah,” he said honestly, trying to smile. “I’ll miss you. You’re a good friend.”

She shook her head sharply. “I mean… Blair, I… want you. I love you.”

He shifted, uneasy, his arms loosening from around her. “Maya, we hardly know each other well enough for you to say that. We were becoming good friends when you told me how you felt. I said ‘no’ then and I… I can’t say ‘yes’ now. It would still be wrong, but for different reasons.”

Maya hiccuped with fresh tears. “You don’t care about me!” she whimpered.

“I do, Maya. I love you like a friend, but it can’t be more than that. I would be lying if I said so and you don’t deserve to be lied to. Maybe if I knew you better, but I can’t guarantee it,” he said softly. “Don’t you understand? I’m trying to keep from hurting you in the long run. I don’t want you to regret knowing me.”

“Well, I do!” she cried. “I do regret it. I hate you, Blair Sandburg. I wish I’d never met you.” She paused, kissed his chin quickly, and then pushed away from him, picking up her backpack before gathering the blanket around her and striding away with queenly dignity.

He watched her go and he thought, Women. I will never understand them.

He was unaware of the ice blue eyes drilling an intense gaze into the back of his head.

***

They had been home for an hour, and for the last half of that hour, Blair had been working out in his old bedroom, refusing to enter Jim’s room. He was pushing himself hard, trying to get his brain to shut up long enough to let him get some sleep. His “earth music” was set on low on the stereo and he was focused on his exercise.

Braced in the push-up position, he chanted, “…arbaim veh shalosh… arbaim veh arba… arbaim veh chamesh… arbaim veh shesh… arbaim veh sheva… arbaim veh shmoneh… arbaim veh teisha… chamishim… chamishim veh echad… chamishim veh shtayim… chamishim veh shalosh… chamishim veh arba… chamishim veh chamesh-“

And then he yelped on a weird, high-pitched, somewhat breathless, warbling note when he was abruptly flattened face down on the carpet with no warning.

“Mmph?!” he mumbled into the carpet, confused and a little frightened.

Those feelings only increased when he heard Jim’s voice purr coldly in his ear, “So… I’m never touching you again, am I, Chief?”

The younger man’s heart pounded hard with fear. Oh, shit.

Jim, perched directly on top of the sprawled body, grinned ferally as he heard it. Good. Let him be afraid. Do him good to remember exactly who he thinks he’s jerking around, here.

Reaching down, the sentinel gripped the wrists that were pinned beneath Blair’s body and yanked them up, stretching the guide’s arms up above his head, along the floor, and pinned them there.

“Do you have any idea how badly you pissed me off today?” he asked conversationally. “There’s quite a list. First, you throw things at me, yell at me, and then hurt my ears deliberately. Then you spout off while in a snit and try to threaten me with no sex. Then - and here’s the kicker - you let that little slut hang all over you. And I heard and saw everything tonight. You had quite the armful there, Chief. Y’know, for a woman who claims to hate you, she sure was free with those lips of hers.”

“She - I don’t know why…” Blair groaned, his muscles stretched almost to the point of severe pain.

Abruptly, a hand fisted in his hair and arched him upwards, making him grimace in pain. He felt Jim’s mouth on his ear and heard the sentinel growl, “Frankly, Sandburg, I don’t care. You’re mine, and I don’t share. Not with anyone. If the little bitch tries anything, I’ll slaughter her myself.”

“No!” Blair yelled, and tried to buck the older man off, tears stinging his eyes from the pressure on his scalp.

“Aww, isn’t that sweet? The shining knight is worried for his little honey. Well, don’t be. She’s safe enough. On her way to Chile, still a fairly rich woman, and extremely beautiful. She’ll have a valiant protector lined up to replace you in no time.”

“Damn you, Jim!” Blair hissed, a few tears trickling from the corners of his eyes.

Swiftly, Ellison rolled them over until he once again lay on top of Blair, only this time, the younger man lay face up, glaring up at him even as he glared down.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. Think you can say ‘no’ to me and then fuck around with any willing slut that shakes his or her tail at you? Think again.”

“And you? Think you can do that to me?” Blair snarled back. “I remember what you said; that you’d fuck other people until I said ‘yes’ again. You really think I’d let you get away with that? Just remember, Ellison, I’m your guide. I can zone you out just as easily as I bring you back from one. I have power over you-“

And then he stopped talking as Jim, in a fury, crashed his mouth down onto Blair’s, trying to dam the flow of vile, irritating words.

Blair struggled beneath him, doing his best to push the bigger man away, but then Jim’s hands slipped down to cup his face, those sensitive fingers brushing against his neck and tracing the edge of his ears - two of his major erogenous zones - and he groaned as he acquiesced, lifting his mouth to kiss Jim back harder, more hungrily.

Ellison laughed; part triumph, part amusement, part smug gloating, and he drove his tongue in faster, harder, stroking Blair’s mouth into sweet submission.

Hands fondled and gripped, caressed and pulled, vying for control as they struggled to remove cumbersome clothing and bring pleasure and dominance to each other.

When they were naked, Jim once again pinned Blair face down and then moved lower, spreading his legs wide, moving between them. He pulled the younger man onto his knees, then gripped Blair’s ass cheeks and spread them wide, too. He grinned ferally for a moment and then he dove in, his tongue and lips unerringly locating Blair’s hole.

Sandburg yelped and squirmed, thrashed and writhed as he begged, cajoled, and demanded more, harder, faster. Jim complied, driving his tongue and fingers in faster, harder, more and more wickedly. When he felt and heard Blair jacking his dick roughly to the tongue and finger strokes inside him, Jim reached around and knocked his hand away; a silent order to stop, or else.

Blair moaned, long and low, and rolled his hips, working himself on Jim’s tongue, then fingers, then tongue again, panting harshly, his eyes closed tightly as he tried to boost himself towards orgasm.

Abruptly, Jim pulled away, leaving him hanging on the brink, and he cried out in protest. Dropping down, Blair rolled onto his back and leaned up to see, then shuddered hard as he saw Jim staring at him heatedly. The bigger man was fisting his dick roughly, quickly, lubricating himself with the gel he’d brought with him. Deciding to tease in retaliation for the teasing he’d been given, Blair lay back down and once again jacked his own penis even as he brought the fingers of his other hand down to his hot, hungry hole and began toying with himself, pushing in, pulling out, teasing his own flesh.

A dreadful growl ripped out of Jim’s chest and Blair found himself yanked up without warning, his legs to either side of Jim’s hips as the sentinel knelt on the floor, sitting back on his haunches. The guide found himself swiftly positioned and then he screamed as he was pulled down hard onto the waiting cock, his body taking it to the root in one rapid plunge. His hands scrabbled at Jim’s shoulders, holding on for dear life, and he heard the low, wicked, triumphant laughter rumbling from his sentinel yet again.

Jim gripped his guide’s hips tightly and he moved them in short, sharp circles, rolling his own hips in the opposite direction, circling himself inside his lover. He watched the younger man hungrily as Blair shuddered and shook on him, head thrown back, mouth open as pleasured cries burst from his throat.

When Blair lost control and dropped one hand into his lap to try to bring himself off with his own touch, however, Jim would have none of it. Growling, he swept Blair’s arms behind his back, grasping both wrists tightly in one strong hand, holding the younger man up against him by wrapping one muscular arm behind Blair.

He began to thrust up into his lover, hard and fast and furiously, and he snarled in one ear, “No fucking way, Chief. The only way you’re coming is on my cock when I say so. Got it? I own your ass; I own it and I’m gonna work it hard tonight. When you come, the only thing that’ll make it happen is me!”

Howling, Blair thrashed uselessly, his struggle only exciting Jim further. In truth, his helplessness excited him as well, and he continued to fight, half-heartedly trying to free himself even as he shuddered with the ecstasy of being taken hard by this powerful, strangely compelling man he knew he should hate; knew he should not allow to do this to him, but wanted desperately despite it all.

Their coupling was intense, physically and emotionally, and there was no way they could last long. Riding faster, harder, eagerly, Blair could feel his orgasm clawing its way up from his balls. Finally, arching up against him, straining, he screamed Jim’s name as his seed pulsed from his body in hard, quick spurts, wetting them both from chin to groin.

Jim lost control at that point. He fell forward, releasing Blair’s wrists and pinning his guide to the floor. He arched over him, fastened his teeth into the curve of Blair’s neck where it met his shoulder, and rammed quickly into the pliant, throbbing body in a few hard thrusts until, finally, with his own roar, he spasmed and climaxed, his cock pulsing his hot, hot seed deep inside his lover.

Long, long moments later, they lay still and silent upon the floor, their breathing almost calm and controlled, their bodies still connected.

Jim wasn’t finished with him, yet. Blair was nowhere near finished either.

Neither of them said anything as Jim carefully pulled out and then stood, picking his lover up and carrying him over to the bed. Blair stayed limp, allowing Jim to position him the way he wanted, and found himself draped across the mattress, his ass and legs hanging over the edge. A moment later, he felt Jim step between his legs, open him wide, and slide into him again.

He sighed at the sweet sensation of being filled slowly and then taken gently, if silently. Jim remained quiet as he thrust languidly into his guide, not hurrying this time around. By the time he came, Blair was hard and ready again, squirming as he mewled softly in distress, thinking Jim wasn’t going to help him come.

Then Jim crawled onto the mattress after withdrawing from his lover. He dropped the lube in front of a wide-eyed Blair, gave him an incendiary look, then bent forward, resting his head on his arms, his knees drawn up and spread wide.

Immediately, Blair scrambled up and hurriedly prepared the older man before he pushed his achingly erect penis inside in a long, slow, smooth glide.

Both men sighed with pleasure and then Blair began riding, his gait easy and controlled and smooth as he pushed in, pulled out, pushed in again, eyes closed, concentrating on the wonderful, heated tightness gripping him.

When Jim began pushing back harder for more, faster, he gripped the slim, muscular hips tightly and gave it to him. He thrust hard, fast, deep; he aimed his strokes so that he roughly massaged Jim’s prostate with the tip of his cock with each plunge into the hot, slick passage. And all the while, Jim chanted a litany of filthy words and commands and pleadings, knowing that it would drive the younger man wild to take him.

It worked. Soon, Blair was thrusting uncontrollably into the big, strong body, shivering as he struggled to come. Leaning forward, he kissed and nibbled the ridges in the muscular back as he reached around and gripped Jim’s renewed erection and stroked quickly, firmly.

In mere moments, they came together. Neither of them had much to show in the way of semen, but the sensations that roiled through them were still deeply intense, making them shudder so hard they feared they might fly apart.

And then they collapsed on the mattress, rolling apart briefly, only to come back together again, Blair cuddled close against the larger body as they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

****

Late the next morning, Blair groaned as he rolled over, stretching and grimacing at the pull on sore muscles.

“Feeling it, Chief?” came an amused, gentle voice that he knew quite well but was surprised to hear.

Blinking open his eyes, Blair glanced around and found Jim standing over by the windows, stark naked, watching him with an amused grin.

“Yeah, a little,” the younger man replied quietly, sitting up slowly.

“You’re not the only one. Neither of us prepared very well for those acrobatics and you had already done a workout.”

“I’m not so out of shape anymore that sit-ups and push-ups are going to leave me an invalid.”

“Didn’t say that. But I wasn’t gentle with you last night.”

Jim walked closer and Blair shivered slightly as he looked up at the sentinel.

Ellison looked down at him for a long, silent moment, then reached out to gently trail one finger down a stubbled cheek, teasing lightly at full, pouty lips. “Don’t ever threaten me like that again,” he said huskily.

Wordlessly, Blair shook his head, agreeing that he wouldn’t.

“Come on,” Jim said softly, and he reached down to take hold of one of Blair’s hands.

Silently, the younger man let Jim pull him from the bed and into the bathroom, then into the shower, where they proceeded to bathe each other slowly, gently, and then rubbed off on each other standing up as they kissed slowly, sweetly.

The whole experience, the gentleness of it, shook Blair far more than the rough mating from last night.

Jim seemed to know it and he offered an enigmatic smile and a last kiss before gathering his clothing and striding from the room and sauntering with supreme nonchalance to his own room, unconcerned about any who might see him.

Suitably impressed, Blair shut the door in a daze and proceeded to get dressed, wondering what the hell was going to happen next.

He didn’t have long to wait.

****

A few days later, Ellison looked up from his desk in his tower office in the business district of Cascade and raised an eyebrow as Kadama Kenji walked in without so much as a by-your-leave, flanked by two of his Yakuza bodyguards.

Ms. Murphy, who had been sitting down on a nearby sofa while drinking a glass of expensive mineral water, smoothly put down the glass and got up to stand near her own boss, silently displaying her readiness to defend him if needs be.

Jim glanced at her, then stood to greet his business partner. “Kadama… what brings you here?”

“Ellison. We need to talk,” the Japanese crime lord growled in his quiet, cultured voice.

Jim nodded. “Would you care for something to drink?”

“Thank you, no. I would prefer to get right down to business,” the other man said, sitting down opposite Ellison’s desk.

Jim sat down as well. “Fine. Let’s have it, then. What’s wrong?”

Kadama snapped his fingers and one of the bodyguards reached into his jacket.

Both Jim and Ms. Murphy stiffened, though neither showed a flicker of change in their expressions.

Kadama raised a single eyebrow in wry amusement as the bodyguard withdrew a videotape. At Jim’s nod, the man walked over to the state of the art TV and VCR set up that was situated at the end of the room, close enough so that Jim and others could view whatever was on screen comfortably from where they sat.

The tape was inserted after the system was turned on and the bodyguard pressed “play”.

Everyone watched as three of Kadama’s men, clearly relaxed and enjoying themselves after a few drinks, got up on stage in one of the oyabun’s club’s for a little karaoke. A few moments later, a motorcycle crashed through the plate glass window at the front of the club, the bike roaring through to skid to a stop in the middle of the room, facing the stage. The masked motorcyclist astride the bike whipped out a gun and fired on the three men on stage, who had been so stunned that they had simply stood there, gaping. The men died instantly and then the biker turned and shot up a good bit of the club, avoiding any other living targets, before roaring back out of the club, making his escape.

The bodyguard reached out to stop the tape, then ejected it and turned off the system before walking back over, laying the tape on Jim’s desk and finally, moving to stand beside and slightly behind his oyabun.

“Terrible tragedy for you, Kadama,” Jim said quietly. “Why do you want me involved in this?”

“Because that was Race Peters and we both know it.”

“Yes, that was most likely Race. The only way he’d ever let someone ride his bike is over his dead body. Perhaps we should check the morgues? The face was covered, after all.”

“Already did that,” Kadama snapped. “I have it on good authority that Race is not dead. Not yet, anyway.”

Jim sat back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “He rides with the Void. That could damage our business deal with them.”

“The deal is already damaged, Ellison! While you have been hiding out with your boy-toy, the rest of us have been keeping an eye on our businesses. The Void have been skimming from the top and trying to take over. We gave them a good deal and they are trying to double-cross us. Rory Hessman and his fellow bottom feeders are becoming nuisances once again. We cannot allow this.”

“I agree. But I’m curious as to why you’ve come to me with this, rather than taking care of it yourself,” Jim murmured.

“Believe me, I’ve already taken steps in that direction. No, the reason I came to you is because the idea of getting the Void to work with us was your idea,” Kenji said softly.

“An idea I proposed and then enacted when the rest of you agreed to it.”

“But still your machinations. Therefore, it is up to you to make restitution.”

Jim’s expression went cold. “I’m not one of your Yakuza, Kenji,” he said softly.

“No, you are not. But you are as deep into this as the rest of us. The cops are already checking into the hit on my club. They’ll be going after the Void next. They’ll probably find the… parting gift… I left behind.”

Jim sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “What did you do?” he asked tiredly.

“Upped the ante, as you Americans say,” Kadama spat. “Four Void for three of my men. They’ll be found at their workshop.”

“Right. That is also going to really focus the cops on the heat between you and the Void, and therefore, any of your business associates on the off chance that they might be involved.”

Kenji’s golden skin flushed darker briefly in response to his anger at being subtly chastised, but he recovered quickly. “I have honor in my dealings, Ellison. I do not double-cross.”

“No, I have never imagined you would.” Jim sighed. “Fine, we’ll figure something out, and yes, I do mean ‘we’. I alone have not shouldered this deal with the Void.”

Kadama nodded shortly and then answered his cell phone when it rang from an inner pocket inside his jacket. Retrieving it, he spoke quickly in fluent, rapid Japanese to the person on the other end of the line. When the call was over, he hung up and then stood, re-buttoning his jacket and smiling smoothly.

Jim stood as well, holding out his hand for a shake. “Problems?”

“Maybe. That was my attorney, Akiko Keno. She says the cops want to have a ‘summit meeting’ between me and Hessman with the cops watching over us. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“You do that. Then I can make plans based on that information.”

Nodding, Kadama retrieved his hand and offered a small bow. He left only after Jim returned it.

Jim sighed yet again as he sat down, too tired and frustrated to bother tracking the other man with his hearing. He knew enough Japanese to get by when saying hello, goodbye, thank you, or ordering sushi, but his three fluent languages other than English were German, Italian, and of course, French.

“Mr. Ellison? Are you all right?” Allison asked quietly.

The sentinel glanced over and nodded wearily. “Fine. Just a headache. And it’s only going to get worse before this is all over.” He sighed and then began shutting down his computer. “I’m going to call it a day. Be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”

A few moments later, he called his secretary into his office and barked out rapid fire orders for the current projects and business deals he was working on; general details that she could handle alone.

Once that was taken care of, he and Allison headed out of the office and downstairs where the limo was waiting for them and were on their way home quickly.

***

Blair watched Jim with quiet concern as the older man angrily sliced at the steak that was on the plate in front of him.

Ellison had come home a couple of hours ago, but had made it clear that he wanted to be left alone for a little while. However, when dinner was served, he then let Blair know that he wanted the younger man with him while he dined.

Although I’m not sure why, Blair mused as he ate his incredibly delicious chicken salad. He hasn’t said anything to me beyond ‘pass the salt’.

“Would you please stop watching me, Sandburg?” Jim growled suddenly, startling the younger man.

Blair looked up to find the sentinel glaring at him. “What?”

“Stop watching me so furtively. If you want to ask me something, then do it, but stop observing me!”

Blair tried a small grin on for size and lamely joked, “Hey, man, that’s my job around here….”

Jim’s glare deepened and Sandburg got the hint quickly enough and he glanced down at his plate.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just trying to lighten the mood. Jim… are you okay? What’s wrong? Did you zone today?”

The older man rubbed briefly at his aching head and then looked back at his guide a little more softly. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry, Chief, I didn’t mean to bite your head off. There’s some trouble between me, Kadama, and the Void.”

“And the Void would be…?”

“Jackasses on bikes in black leather. They run meth labs and worship the ghost of Sid Vicious.”

“Okay. I gather from all of that, they’re a biker gang?”

“Yep. They were making pests of themselves, trying to muscle in on our turf - mine and the other crime lords’ - but I had an idea. If the Void ran meth for us, we’d split the profits between us and supply them with bike parts and places to hang out as trade. Only now, they’re trying to double-cross us - trying to cross Kadama, especially, since there’s bad blood between them - and a guy named Race Peters drove into Kenji’s club on his bike and took out three of his Yakuza warriors.”

“You’re sure it was this Race guy and you’re sure it was Kadama’s men?”

“They played the surveillance tape for me. I’d recognize Race’s bike anywhere. It’s a Harley Electraglide with an Original Shovelhead, from ’79 or ’80. He might have covered his face, but that was definitely his bike. And never mind the fact that I recognize the three Yakuza who got whacked. If I had any doubts, the missing pinky on the left hand of one of them clinched it.”

“Missing pinky? Something important there?” Blair asked.

“Mm-hmm. It’s called yubitsume. When a Yak soldier disgraces his boss, or oyabun, as they call him, he has to offer a piece of himself in return as tribute.” Jim flashed a wicked grin at the younger man. “I happen to like that idea. Take a note of that, Sandburg.”

Blair snorted. “Like you haven’t taken enough from me already.”

The sentinel’s eyes went hot. “I haven’t. Not nearly enough. And I’ll take more of you tonight.”

The guide shivered and glanced away.

After a few moments of silence, Jim continued. “Anyway, Kenji has retaliated in his own way, operating under his honor system, so the cops are looking into everything right now. However, because it was my idea to have the Void working for all of us, it seems to fall to me to handle the termination of the business deal, and possibly the Void as well.”

Blair swallowed hard. “Jim, they’re people.”

“Uh-huh. Crooks, too. Drug dealers and criminals, much like myself. Still feel protective of them?”

There was no correct answer to that, Blair discovered. If he said “yes,” it would give Jim ideas. If he said “no,” it would pronounce him an even worse hypocrite.

Jim smirked as Blair said nothing, merely picked at his salad.

“Anyway, I only need to hear from Kenji about what’s happened at the ‘summit meeting’ the cops dragged him and Hessman, leader of the Voids, into. Once I know what the score is, I can start planning.”

Blair frowned. “I thought his name was Kadama?”

Jim sighed. “The Japanese announce themselves surname first. Kadama is his family name, Kenji is his given name. He is announced to society as Kadama Kenji, known to family and close friends as Kenji. Short version, Americanized, he would be announced as Kenji Kadama.”

“Ah. Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten about that. You’d think something I’d learned in Anthropology-“ Blair began, then cut himself off, turning his attention back to his suddenly unpalatable dinner.

“Your field is South American culture,” Jim pointed out.

“That doesn’t limit me from being interested in anything else,” Blair snapped back.

Ellison was silent for a moment, then he said sarcastically, “Touchy, touchy. What’s gotten into you, Chief? Or is it that you’re upset that nothing’s gotten into you yet tonight?”

The younger man slammed his fork down on the table and closed his eyes, struggling for control. Finally, he opened them and said quietly, “I miss being a teacher and a student. I miss my old life. I want to be an academic again.”

Jim was silent for a long, long moment. He picked up his glass of wine and sipped at it slowly as he thought quietly. Finally, he set the glass down and murmured, “I think that can be arranged.”

Blair’s head snapped up so fast that Jim winced when he heard the vertebrae crack loudly.

“What?” Sandburg gasped.

“I said, I think that can be arranged. I want you to continue living here, Chief, and I’m putting a lot of trust in you that you won’t bring down the heat on me, but I’m willing to pay your way through school if you want to go back.”

“Oh… oh, man,” Blair hiccuped, suddenly breathless. He smiled widely at the older man. “This is… I can’t believe this! I need to go back, man. Being a TA is how I earn money, you know? I got loans to pay back, and-“

“Actually, you don’t.”

“Huh?”

“I paid those off a couple weeks ago.”

Blair’s eyes bugged out. “Jim! That was almost three hundred thousand dollars!”

“Yup.”

“But … how am I going to pay you back if I don’t have a job?”

Jim grinned wickedly. “Who says you’re not already paying it back?”

Sandburg paled. His mouth opened and closed and finally, he said, “In that case, contact the bank and ask for your money back. I’ll find a way to pay it off myself.”

The sentinel rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong now? You know I’ve got money. Three hundred thousand was a mere drop in the bucket. I could buy Rainier University and still have more money than that little twerp Gates could ever dream of!”

“It’s not the fact that you paid off the loans!” Blair yelled back. “Well, okay, part of it is. What’s bugging me is that apparently, I paid for it in trade! I paid for it with my ass!”

“And your mouth, and your dick,” Jim added, grinning wickedly. “Don’t knock your assets, Sandburg. They’re worth plenty to me.”

The younger man flushed crimson. “That makes me your gigolo!”

“And this is different from any other time since we started fucking, how…?”

Blair swallowed hard and got up from the table, leaving the room quickly.

Jim followed him almost immediately.

“Sandburg!”

“Tilech lazazel, ya ben zonah!” the younger man roared back, heading quickly up the stairs towards his room.

Jim blinked, then continued after his guide. When Blair tried to slam the door in his face, he blocked it, then shoved it open and let himself in, before slamming it shut himself.

“What did you just say?” he demanded.

“I told you to go to hell, you son of a whore,” Blair said tightly, stomping away towards the balcony doors.

And let out a pained cry as he found himself caught by his hair and jerked back harshly, stumbling against Jim’s body.

The hand in his hair tightened painfully and Jim’s other hand latched onto his throat in a firm clamp as Ellison hissed in his ear, “Don’t you ever insult my mother in such a way again, Sandburg, or I’ll make you regret it!”

When he was released, Blair gasped and massaged at his aching scalp as he turned to glare at the sentinel. “Oh, what, you don’t mind turning me into a whore, but let anyone imply even vaguely-“

Jim took a single step forward.

Blair skittered backwards, his eyes widening and his face paling.

“I think you get my point,” Ellison said coldly, his expression deadly.

The younger man shuddered and turned away from him, walking over to stand in front of his balcony windows, staring out into the night.

A few moments later, Jim stood close behind him, just barely touching the younger man with his body. The sentinel ignored the protective instincts that stirred within him when he smelled the sharp ammonia scent of Blair’s fear and heard the sudden frightened pounding of his heart.

“Do you still want to go to school?” he asked softly. “I’ll pay your tuition for you. And it won’t hinge on you having sex with me. It never did. What I said downstairs was tasteless and pointlessly cruel. I’m sorry, Sandburg.”

Blair snorted lightly and shrugged. “Whoa. An apology. From you. Careful, man; I might start thinking you actually give a damn about me.”

Jim sighed softly and rolled his eyes before saying, “Don’t push me, kid. I can see to it that you never go near another academic institution ever again. Now, do you want to go back to Rainier?”

Shakily, the younger man nodded silently.

Ignoring Blair’s flinch, Jim wrapped his arms around his guide and held him firmly against him. “Then okay. I’ll get in touch with Buckner and have the paperwork started. When everything’s ready, you can go back.”

Blair sighed, a trifle sniffle-y, and closed his eyes as he whispered sub-vocally, “Thank you.”

Jim pressed a quick kiss of approval to the crown of his guide’s head, and then simply stood there, holding the man.

Many minutes later, Blair murmured quietly, “You’re an enigma.”

“Hmmm?”

“An enigma. You.”

“Me?”

“You.”

“How so?” Jim asked as he began divesting the younger man of his clothing.

“You’re mean and cold one minute, charitable and warm the next. I don’t know what to make of you.”

“You don’t have to make anything of me. I would be really pleased if you would make it with me, though,” the sentinel grunted, kneeling down to yank Blair’s boots and socks off his feet so he could remove the other man’s pants.

“And all that talk about Harley Electraglides and being the one to make the deal with the Void. You’re an expert with motorcycles, aren’t you?”

“I got into them in high school and the passion for them stayed with me,” Jim replied, starting on his own clothes once his guide was naked. “Bikes, I mean; not the Void.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked and why should I have told you? It has nothing to do with my senses.” Naked now, the older man pushed Blair backwards until he was sprawled out on the mattress, the sentinel looming over him. “This was supposed to be an academic relationship.”

“What is it now?” Blair asked softly.

Jim flashed his chill smile and humped his groin against the man beneath him as he said, “It’s an academic relationship with a twist. Don’t go looking for more, Sandburg; you won’t find it. A man’s got to have a little privacy.”

Blair sighed. “Jim, if I’m ever going to construct a valid sensory profile of you, I’m going to need everything, the whole mosaic.”

“What did you say?” Ellison grumbled.

“I need to know everything,” the younger man repeated.

“Everything.”

“From the moment your mom had that C-section.”

Jim smirked. “I’ll have to give you a rain check on that one. Now stop talking and start making some noise.”

And with that, he slid down Blair’s body and sucked the half-hard cock into his mouth in one swallow.

Blair arched off the bed and screamed, sensation swamping his mind yet again, letting it take him away from conscious recognition of where he was and what he was becoming.

***

The next morning, Jim met Kenji in his private home office, Akiko and the bodyguards in tow.

“So? What’s happened?” he asked.

“We met and had words with Hessman and his brother, Kurt. The cops got cranky when we tried to divide up the meth market,” Kadama replied, sipping the water that had been given him when he’d arrived. “We agreed to cool things down and Akiko served us both coffee. However, she denies any involvement in Hessman’s death.”

“Because I didn’t,” Akiko said when ice blue eyes lasered her way. “The report came back that he had a heart murmur. However, the autopsy revealed a trace of strychnine that was laced in his cup, but not Kenji’s. I think someone’s trying to set us up. Not only to make us look bad, but to start a blood feud between us that will wipe out both contingents. And I think the cops did it. One in particular.”

“Who?”

“Officer Mike Hurley, Cascade Crime Unit, PD. He’s had a bug up his ass about gangs for a long time,” Kadama interrupted. “And he was the only one near the coffee other than Akiko. He could’ve put the strychnine into Hessman’s cup and that way, everyone will think Akiko did it, acting on orders from me. That gets the Void up in arms against us and we have no choice but to retaliate. I’m currently having Hurley investigated, quietly. Trying to find out what could have caused him to go off like this.”

“Sounds like an ideal plan,” Ellison agreed.

Akiko lifted her hand and when she had their attention, she said softly, “I’m sorry, but I need to….”

Not a stupid man, Jim instantly picked up on her discomfiture and the way she was trying to find a delicate way to phrase needing to visit a toilet. He took pity on her and gave her a slightly less chill smile and said, “Go out of this room, turn right, go past the stairs, down the hall, second door on the right.”

She whispered a quick thank you and excused herself, the door shutting quietly behind her.

Jim was listening to Kadama a few moments later when, suddenly, his ears were assaulted by a high-pitched, electronic squeal.

He winced, his head jerking, and then he dialed down quickly, grimacing.

“Ellison?” Kenji muttered questioningly, an eyebrow raised, then sat forward. “Jim, are you well?”

“I… um, yeah. Sorry, Kenji. I’ve had a migraine most of this morning. It just flared up, that’s all. I’ll be okay. Continue, please,” the sentinel replied, fixing his eyes on the Yakuza leader while he cautiously dialed his hearing back up. The noise still assaulted his ears, but he ignored it, working past it, not allowing any sign of his discomfort to show on his face.

In the bathroom he had directed Akiko to, he heard her whispering into a cell phone, “…Killibrew. Meet me at the Cascade Ferry at eleven tonight. I have an update for the report.”

“Good work, Agent Kimuru,” the man she had named Killibrew replied, and Jim thought his heart was going to stop beating for a moment. “Every little bit helps. What’s the news on Kadama?”

“Gearing up for a war on the Void, and vice versa. A local cop might have a hand in it; not dirty, but definitely fighting that way. Better warn Peters to be on the lookout.”

“Will do. Keep your head down, Angela.”

“Roger that, Lloyd. Kimuru out.”

Jim sighed and then answered a question from Kadama about attending a dinner party at Kenji’s club later that evening. He kept the conversation going and barely managed to act civil to Akiko - no, Angela - when she returned.

She noticed the sudden chill coming from him. “Have I done something wrong, Mr. Ellison?”

More than you realize, honey, he thought furiously, but he simply smiled thinly and shook his head.

“Mr. Ellison is not feeling well; a migraine. We should leave now so he can take care of it,” Kadama said, getting to his feet. He held out his hand to Jim, smiling.

Jim shook with him, then exchanged small, polite bows, and watched them leave the office, his eyes boring a hole in the undercover agent’s back.

***

“What’s crawled up your backside now?” Blair demanded when he saw Jim come storming into the rec room where he was currently perched, watching the local news while he organized the charts and files of information he’d accumulated while testing Jim’s senses.

“The Feds,” Jim snapped. “One, in particular.”

Blair went still. “What do you mean?”

“That Akiko Keno who works for Kenji. She’s a Fed. And so is Race Peters. She’s infiltrated Kenji and is trying to gather evidence against him. I’m guessing that Peters is working it from the Void angle. Christ! We are all in this up to our necks. There is no telling how much the cops and the Feds know about any of us!”

“Which means you’re probably under investigation,” Blair said quietly.

Jim nodded sharply. “Yes, dammit. I’ve got calls to make. I already know that none of my phones have been tapped. They might have monitored e-mail messages, though. You know computers?”

“Yes, but so do you-“

“I don’t have time to do three hundred things at once right now. I need you to empty the cache on my computer and delete all saved e-mail messages from there, and sent ones, as well. Wipe out anything that looks incriminating.”

Blair looked pained. “Jim… please, don’t ask me to help you commit a crime-“

Abruptly, Ellison was looming over the younger man, trapping him against the couch he was sitting on.

Blair shrank back, looking up at the infuriated sentinel.

“You have already helped me commit or kept quiet about crimes several times,” Jim hissed. “It’s too late for you to worry about that now.”

Sandburg closed his eyes, willing the nausea away.

“Go do as I told you,” the cold voice said implacably.

Swallowing hard, Blair got up off the couch and walked with Jim to his office where he sat down at the desk and worked on the computer files while the man stood next to him, calling up his criminal business associates and clueing them in, either approving or vetoing deletion when Blair asked if it was savable or not.

“No, I’m going to wait until tonight at the dinner party to tell Kenji,” Ellison said to Lazar as he watched the files disappearing off his computer. “We can take care of him from our end of things. Get people over to her office and begin working on stuff there; I know she’s going to be with him the rest of the day. And we’ve got to make a strike on the Void, immediately. Wipe them out.”

He was silent as he listened to Dominick’s outraged replies and vehement assurances of getting things covered up, then snapped out, “I’ll see you at the Kobe Club tonight, Dominick. We’ll discuss everything then, once all is done and taken care of. Goodbye.”

He slammed the phone down, glared at Blair when the younger man jumped, and then picked the phone back up to make yet more calls.

And all the while, Blair made plans of his own.

****

Blair looked around the packed party place that was the Kobe Club, drink clutched in his hand and secret plan stashed up his sleeve.

He was mingling a little ways away from Ellison and Lazar, waiting for a moment to either get Akiko alone or at least somehow slip her his warning without being noticed. His spine felt like a shard of ice; his stomach like a lump of hot lead. The two extremes were making him nervous and nauseous in turns.

Just as Jim and Lazar were approaching Kadama, he watched Akiko lean in to whisper something in Kenji’s ear and then move away, ostensibly heading for the ladies’ room.

Perfect, he thought, and moved quickly, blending in with the crowd and snaking his way over to her.

He blocked the way, surprising her, and smiled as charmingly as he knew how. Holding out his hand, he said, “Hi! I’m Blair Sandburg!”

She took his hand and never blinked as she felt the piece of paper slip from his palm into hers. She smiled back and said, “Hi. I’m Akiko Keno. You must be that anthropology student that works with Jim Ellison now, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s me, right,” he said, and watched her eyes flick down to read the message without moving her head.

He knew what it would say. He’d made it as short and sweet and to the point as he could. THEY KNOW ABOUT YOU AND RACE PETERS. GET OUT NOW!

He only hoped it helped the two agents.

When her eyes flicked back up to meet his, he was still smiling, but his blue eyes were anxious as they drilled into her suddenly chill, slightly alarmed jet black ones.

She reached out and took his arm and began strolling them away towards the back of the room, casually, as if they were friends or acquaintances hanging out together.

The two of them chatted amiably, but it became apparent to Blair that she was attempting to get him to leave with her when she led him through the kitchens, towards the doors that led to the alley behind the building.

“Akiko-“ he hissed anxiously.

“Angela,” she murmured back. “My name is Angela Kimuru. FBI. We have to hurry if we’re going to make it. I’m taking you in as a witness and an informant.”

“No!” he said, attempting to get away from her surprisingly strong grip as she kept herding him towards the back door. “No, Angela, I can’t leave!”

“Mr. Sandburg-“

“No, really, I can’t. It’s too dangerous!” he said as they neared the doors. “I don’t want to go!”

“Blair, I realize you’re worried. I am, too. But it’s too dangerous to stay!” she snapped, and pulled him out into the alley.

Only to be faced with Kadama, Lazar, Ellison, and all their personal bodyguards.

“It’s too dangerous period, Agent Kimuru,” Jim said coldly. “Release him.”

Slowly, Angela did so, and the two of them stood side by side; the agent steady as a rock, Blair trembling nervously, unable to control his shivers as he stared wide-eyed at his murderously furious keeper and the others.

Jim snapped his fingers and pointed to his side, silent summons for his guide.

Blair glanced at Angela from the corner of his eye and when she nodded gently, he swallowed hard and slowly made his way over to the angry sentinel. He stifled a yelp when a hard, painful hand clamped onto his shoulder near his neck and yanked him over, releasing him to the grip of Gary and Nate, who were standing with Allison. When he opened his mouth to say something, he gasped and shuddered hard when Allison rammed her sharp, pointy elbow into his left kidney. The world grayed out threateningly, but he managed to stay on his feet and conscious, even though he wanted to either pee himself or pass out, possibly both.

“Nisei bitch!” Kadama spat, and his hand lashed out, pistol whipping her across the face.

Angela staggered back and then fell to the ground.

“Get her up,” the Yakuza oyabun said dispassionately, and his two warriors moved forward swiftly, catching Angela before she could utilize any of her training.

“Ms. Murphy,” Jim said without looking at any of his own people, “you, Mr. Palmer, and Mr. Turner take our friend Sandburg out to the limo and wait for us.” The limo was parked five blocks away.

“Yes, sir,” she said simply, then reached up to catch hold of Blair in a firm grip on his hair, close to his scalp, and turned away, tugging him along after her while Gary and Nate kept him vaguely upright and pointed in the right direction.

The criminals waited until they were gone before turning their attention to the undercover agent.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, my dear, there’s been a change in plans,” Jim said calmly, coldly. “And there is going to be a big surprise for your federal friends at the ferry tonight. We don’t have to worry about Peters, though. The cop, Hurley, already took him out; he’s going to be in for a rude shock when he realizes he iced a federal agent. The rest of us are taking care of the Void.”

“Ehh, you think you’re so smart, spying on us, infiltrating us like this?” Lazar growled. “Not so smart after all, bitch. We’re wise to your tricks now; you’re going to be part of a message to not mess with us, ever.”

“But, first, you are going to tell us everything you know,” Kadama murmured.

Angela felt her guts turn to ice as the criminals closed in on her, and she shut her eyes, muttering a silent prayer for a relatively quick death.

***

“Whoulf!”

Blair gasped for breath as it was knocked out of him by a hard upper cut punch to his solar plexus by the angry blonde woman in front of him. He staggered back into the brick wall behind him and attempted to block the next two punches that slammed into his ribs and lower belly, dangerously close to his groin.

He crouched down into a ball, covering his head with his arms, and hoped he wouldn’t be awake for the rest of it.

Then a voice cut through the pain, but he was in no way reassured.

“That’s enough, Ms. Murphy.”

The bodyguard backed off, unwillingly, but she did as ordered, standing back beside Turner and Palmer.

Blair lifted his head and found Jim staring down at him, flanked by Dominick, Erika, and their bodyguards, and Kadama and his bodyguards.

Seeing the silent question in Blair’s eyes, Jim said coldly, “No, she’s not dead. Yet.”

Sandburg moaned softly and let his head drop again.

“There has to be restitution for this,” Kadama said immediately. “He tried to help the Feds.”

“Tried to,” Jim agreed. “But we stopped them before they could get too far. Mister Sandburg is on a rather ethical high horse.”

“Why do you keep him, then?” Erika asked. “Besides the obvious,” she added with a smirk.

“That is my private concern and nothing you need to know about. I have him for specific reasons besides the ‘obvious’, as you so eloquently put it. And I still need him for those specific reasons,” Jim snapped.

“Payment must be made for this transgression,” Kadama insisted. “Ellison, hand him over. Find someone else who does what he does for you, and hand him over.”

“No.”

The single word was an ice-cold, territorial growl, and everyone present shivered involuntarily.

“Are you saying you’re going to let him get away with this?” Dominick gasped, outraged.

“I said nothing of the sort. I said I wouldn’t be handing him over. I will see to his punishment, not any of you,” Jim declared. “He’s mine, after all.”

Kadama snarled a furious round of epithets in rapid Japanese and then he pulled out his gun and aimed it at Blair.

Jim immediately stepped between them and strong-armed the gun up and away from his guide, his glare feral, as his bodyguards arranged themselves protectively around the two men.

“I said ‘no’,” Jim rumbled quietly, yet very, very menacingly.

Everyone was silent for a long, long moment, and then Lazar and Kadama backed away significantly.

“We’re warning you, Ellison-“ Kadama began.

“He’ll be punished, Kenji,” Jim said softly. “But not at your hands. I can’t let you do that.”

Erika let out a genteel snort and turned to saunter away. “Looks as though Ellison has finally gotten a weak spot,” she smirked before she left.

The other two men were silent for a long moment, and finally, Dominick said, “Don’t let us down again, Jimmy,” and then he followed his daughter, his bodyguards trailing him.

Kadama said nothing, but then, he didn’t have to. His single, eloquent glare spoke volumes on its own. Then he turned and walked away, his bodyguards following.

Finally, Jim, Blair, and the others were alone. The limo, which had been waiting a few yards away, rolled forward smoothly. Gary stepped up to open one of the back doors and waited.

Reaching down, Jim grabbed Blair by one of his arms and, ignoring the startled cry, tensed his muscles and then threw the younger man through the door into the roomy interior.

Blair landed against the seat and then dropped to the floor. He scrambled aside as Jim, Allison, and Nate entered, while Gary rode up front with the chauffer.

Nobody said anything on the ride back to Ellison’s mansion. When they pulled up at the front door, Jim kept a firm grip on his guide’s arm as he marched the younger man inside, the bodyguards following.

As he took Blair upstairs, he heard Allison call out, “Will you be needing us anymore tonight, sir?”

“No!” he barked back, and kept going.

He led the way down to Blair’s room, stepped in, flung the younger man towards the bed, and then turned to slam the door shut and lock it. When he turned back around, he found Blair sitting in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Walking over to stand in front of the younger man, he snarled softly, “Do you have any idea of the amount of credibility and security I’ve lost tonight because of you?”

“What are you worried about?” Blair gasped, holding his ribs and trying not to breathe too deeply because of the pain coming from his left kidney. “She’ll be dead soon, if she isn’t already. She didn’t have time to pass along any information.”

Suddenly, Jim swooped down and lifted Sandburg up with a brutal grip on both arms; lifted until they were face to face and he could glare into Blair’s pain contorted features.

“I’m talking about my credibility and security with Lazar and Kadama,” he growled. “Any other time, any other place, any other person, and I would have handed them my own gun to blow your brains out after I took a few shots of my own at certain parts of you.”

“Then why didn’t you? Should’ve just let ‘em kill me,” Blair mumbled.

“Because I seem to be unable to let anything happen to you. There’s this need I have to protect you from getting killed that I don’t understand and is really pissing me off. I’m guessing it has something to do with my sentinel senses; yet another reason to wish they were gone. Then I could… could…”

“Rid yourself of the rest of the baggage that goes along with it all?” Blair said softly, hanging limply in Jim’s grasp, his dark blue eyes watery with pained tears and awash with sadness and regret.

“Precisely,” Ellison snapped, and he threw Blair onto the bed.

Sandburg groaned as his bruised body was jostled hard when he bounced on the mattress. Then he looked up at Jim as the other man came around the side of the bed and he shuddered.

“No, please,” he begged. “Jim, no, not like this, please-“

“You don’t have to worry about it tonight, Sandburg,” Jim growled as he began removing his jacket, shirt, and tie. “I’m so disgusted with you I couldn’t get it up if I tried.”

“Then… what…?”

“I’m going to punish you like I promised,” the older man said coldly, his eyes as chill and emotionless as pieces of ice blue crystal.

“You - you promised you’d never harm me!”

“And you promised you wouldn’t bring the heat down on me. Looks like we’re both breaking a promise, then.”

“I wasn’t… only trying to help her… God, Jim, she’s the law… and murder….”

“She would have escaped and brought her Fed buddies down on all of us. It is the exact same thing as ‘bringing the heat down’. Damn you, Sandburg! She was going to escape and take you with her!”

“I didn’t want to go!” Blair shouted as Jim, naked now, reached for him and began yanking his clothes off. “I tried to stay-“

“I know. That’s the only reason you’re not getting worse from me,” Jim declared grimly as he wrestled Blair free of his clothing, then pinned him face down on the bed.

“What are you-“ Blair began, then jumped and yowled when a ferocious smack landed on his backside, the skin already stinging fiercely. “Ben eles!” he gasped.

“What?” Ellison demanded.

“Roughly translated: ‘you bastard’,” Blair gritted out, and then attempted to roll out from under the sentinel who was pinning him down.

Jim used all of his weight to flatten his guide to the bed and bared his teeth in an angry snarl. “Sorry, but isn’t that more your title than mine? My parents were married. It doesn’t matter. You’re going to be punished. Shout all you want; nobody’s going to save you.”

With that, he levered himself up and into a position that would allow him to hold Blair down while he rained a succession of hard, painful slaps down onto the younger man’s buttocks. Beneath him, Blair bucked and writhed and shouted out pleas and curses in English, Spanish, and Hebrew, to no avail. Each slap stung more sharply, hurt worse, than the one before it, and finally he was crying, begging for Jim to stop, please stop, he’d be good, just please, stop!

When Blair’s skin was a dusky purple color and Jim could easily see the bruises and palm prints without his sentinel sight, he stopped and climbed off the younger man, panting for air himself. He walked around to the other side of the bed so he could look down at Blair’s face, which was twisted to the side just enough to drag in air, the rest of it pressed against the bedding in an attempt to muffle his cries.

“Look at you,” he said contemptuously, fighting an internal battle to keep from comforting his hurting guide. “Crying and begging over a spanking. It’s a wonder you ever made it to twenty-five, Sandburg, if you can’t take a punishment as benign as that, compared to others. What kind of sissy boy are you? Hell, for that matter, what are you anyway? You said you’d never help me; well, you help me frequently. You said you’d never let me fuck you; you’re the one initiating our fucking more often than not. Doesn’t that make you a hypocrite and a whore? I think so. And now look. You keep yelling and fighting and cussing at me, but you cave the instant you get bruised. You’re going to have to toughen up, sissy boy, if you ever want to survive in the real world. Assuming you live that long.”

Blair cringed away from the hateful words, subconsciously recognizing them as more punishment from his keeper.

Jim sighed disgustedly and rolled his eyes. “Get control of yourself, Sandburg. The worst of it’s over now. Just be grateful that I don’t feel like making you take it up the ass, or anywhere else right now.”

A shuddering gasp rippled the entire length of Blair’s body, and then the younger man held his breath, attempting to do as Ellison ordered.

Hardening his resolve, Jim snatched up his clothing - which he’d removed in case any accidents might have occurred - and slid into his pants. He held the rest of his clothes in his hands and stalked over to the door. “Goodnight,” he said curtly as he unlocked and then opened it. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. Assuming you can walk that far.” And then he was gone, slamming the door shut behind him.

Blair stayed where he was, pressed his face deep into the mattress, and tried to cry as silently as he could, the pain and humiliation overwhelming him.

Down the hall, in his own bedroom, Jim heard the sounds coming from Blair and cursed fluidly and violently as he yanked off his dress pants, throwing everything across the room. Stalking over to his closet, he walked in, yanked open a drawer that contained the sweat shorts and tank-top he used to work out in, and pulled them on swiftly. Then he pulled on socks and sneakers and headed downstairs to the built in gym that was located at the back of the house.

He walked in, setting the lights on low, and grabbed up tape and gloves, preparing his hands, and then he moved over to the heavy bag and proceeded to beat the crap out of it. With each sob and sniffle coming from upstairs, he landed a heavy hit into the bag, his expression murderous as he worked off his frustration and rage and the feeling of helplessness.

When he heard Blair’s crying die down a bit, he was relieved and began easing up on his punches to the bag.

Then he heard Blair turn over on the bed gently and the younger man’s involuntary sharp cry of pain.

His next punch took the heavy bag off its moorings and it landed in a pummeled heap three feet away.

He glared down at it, his chest heaving, and then moved on to another piece of equipment, making a mental note to have the bag replaced tomorrow.

It was a long, sleepless night for both men.

****

The crime lords, their families, bodyguards, partners, and businesses, all went about their business with their heads down and eyes and ears open. Contacts were contacted, information about investigations brought against them received, plans made and all evidence either destroyed or hidden even more carefully, which frustrated the Feds and cops to no end as any chance of a case against them was wiped out.

A week after the unmasking of Agent Kimuru and her subsequent death, and Blair’s punishment, Ellison met two of his fellow crime lords at their mutually favorite sushi restaurant.

Kadama and Lazar watched as Jim entered the restaurant, heading towards their table. The waiter followed to pull back the chair for the sentinel and after he was seated, Kadama spoke in rapid Japanese, ordering another carafe of plum wine. The waiter bowed his agreement and left them alone.

"Greetings, Ellison," Kenji said wryly, "I trust you are well?"

"Very well, Kadama," Jim replied. "Were you expecting otherwise?"

"After that unfortunate... incident... we weren't quite sure how you would be."

Jim stared coolly at the Yakuza oyabun. "Everything has been dealt with."

"You punished that boy, then?" Lazar demanded.

Jim nodded shortly. "I did. He's definitely not a happy camper right now."

The waiter reappeared with the plum wine and waited to take Ellison's order. Jim rattled off a request for several sushi items such as hamache (young yellowtail), hirame (flounder), maguro (tuna), and several maki-zushi (sushi rolls) of assorted types. The waiter nodded, bowed, and left them alone again.

"So, what was I called down here for, other than to be interrogated as to how I handle my problems?" the sentinel asked with biting sarcasm.

Kadama and Lazar exchanged smirks and then settled back in their seats.

"You know that Vincent has been underground ever since we faked his death to avoid the Feds closing in on him," Lazar began. "Well, the alliance we've been working towards for two years is coming towards fruition. The time for everyone to gather is now. You, Kadama, and I have led the way in our dealings. Carasco, too, until we discovered him to be a traitorous bastard, but that's in the past. Now, though... we have set the example and others are listening to us. Watching us. And they have approved. We took Vincent's plan on theory and put it into action and it worked. Now we need to gather the others together and cement this alliance."

Jim nodded. "Sounds reasonable. When will it be?"

"At the end of the week. That should be enough time for those of us here to get everything ready. The meeting will be held at my house at 9 in the evening."

"Good," Jim murmured, and then smiled as the waiter appeared with his food, setting it down before him. "Domo."

The waiter bowed and disappeared again.

Jim took a moment to appreciate the artistic arrangement of his meal, then selected a piece of maguro and ate it delicately, humming his approval.

Kadama watched, smiling. He knew he could count on Ellison to show clear appreciation for the chef's work.

After Jim had finished eating the piece he had selected and taken a small sip of plum wine, he looked over at the Italian don. "So, who all is going to be there?"

"I talked to Dixon and Madsen. They were suspicious, but we knew that. They took some convincing, but they'll come. I'll personally guarantee their safety."

"Right. And Renfocia and Toshio Nuri? They'll be here, too. All of them will be."

"Vincent as well?"

"Yes, of course."

Jim raised a single eyebrow at Lazar. "You do realize that Erika is not going to be pleased with this?"

Dominick choked on his plum wine, coughed to clear his throat, and glared at Jim angrily. "What are you talking about, Ellison?"

Jim sighed. "Dominick, why can't you see it? Erika wants to be the one to run things. She believes Vincent is dead and has been doing her best to prove she can take over and run things when you're gone, whenever that may be. She wants to help."

Lazar snorted. "If she really wants to help, she can find herself a husband and make me another grandson. No, she will not take over. This life is not for her."

"But, Dominick, it is apparently what she wants. She likes the power, she has the business sense, and she can out-shoot a lot of us."

"She is a woman," Kadama sneered. "They are wives for us, or mistresses. They are not in charge of our shady dealings. Everyone knows that you can't allow women to get involved; they only complicate things."

Privately, Ellison thought that if any of them had half the sneakiness and ruthlessness that some women he knew had, they'd own the world without needing to hide from the police.

Jim sighed, raised his hands, and shrugged. "Whatever you say, gentlemen. Do you need anything from me?"

"I want you to come over and look at a few things, Jimmy," Dominick replied. "You can bring your Mr. Sandburg if you need to keep an eye on him."

Ellison raised an eyebrow and then gave a chill smile. “Thank you, Dominick. That’s very kind of you.”

“Eh. No problem.”

Plans made for the moment, the three criminals relaxed and began to enjoy their meal.

Later that evening, Blair gaped in surprise as Jim came into his room, went into the walk-in closet, retrieved his suitcase, and then came back out, plopped it onto the bed and opened it up. “Jim?”

“Sandburg.”

“What’s…?”

“I’m going to be going out of town for a few days.”

“Okay. So, where are we going?”

“In different directions for a few days.”

The younger man blinked. “I’m not going with you?”

Jim shook his head and offered a chill smile to Blair. “I’m afraid not. While I’m out of town, you’re going to be staying at Dominick Lazar’s house. There’s going to be a gathering of criminals at his house in a week or so, you see. I have to go collect one or two people and bring them back. You might as well be at his house anyway, because I’ll be going there with my ‘collections’ straight from the airport.”

“But-“

“And this way, there will be an eye kept on you. Not that I don’t trust my own people, but I’m still very angry with you.”

At those words, Blair felt a small burst of cold curl through his guts and he winced slightly, stepping back from the bed which he had approached.

Jim hid a frown at his guide’s reaction and instead continued talking. “The meeting will be at the end of the week, in about four days. I leave tonight after I drop you off at Dominick’s. I’ll be back on Friday evening for the meeting and we’ll be home by Saturday morning.”

Blair nodded. “I guess I should get packing, then.”

“Yes, you should. And be careful about what you pack. Your stuff will be searched and a very close eye will be kept on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a prisoner again.”

Jim let out a cold bark of laughter and replied, “You were never anything else.”

Blair paled and turned slowly to look at the sentinel with stricken eyes.

Jim stared at him for a moment, then turned on his heel with a hissed curse. Before he left the room, he snapped over his shoulder, “Start packing, Sandburg,” and then the door slammed shut behind him.

Numbly, Blair walked over to his closet and stood before his clothing, staring detachedly at them. Finally, he began pulling clothes from their hangers and carrying them back out to his suitcase, where he folded them neatly and started packing.

****

“Blair?”

The young man turned quickly from the library window he’d been staring out of at the sound of the female voice behind him. He smiled when he saw Michelle standing there. “Michelle. Hey.”

“Hey,” the pretty blonde woman replied with a smile. “Thought I’d find you here. Restless again?”

He snorted. “When aren’t I?”

“True. I know how tough it is to be held captive in a gilded cage.”

“You could leave anytime you wanted to.”

“No. Not only would my life be forfeit, but I’d lose my son even if I wasn’t killed. I’d rather be dead. Edward is the most precious thing in my life. It was tough enough on him, losing his father. I don’t want him to lose his mother, too.” Then Michelle let out an inelegant snort of her own as she came to stand by the window, and added, “Although the way he clings to his grandfather, I’m not sure he’d notice I was gone. Or if he did, how much he would care.”

“Michelle, that’s not true,” Blair argued. “Edward’s a good kid and he does love you. You’re his mother and you’ve done nothing but love him. He knows that.”

She nodded noncommittally and then smiled at him. “Thanks for tutoring him, by the way. He was complaining about having to deal with ‘another dweeb’, but I think he’s actually taken to you. He said you know a lot of ‘neat stuff’.”

“Hey, I had to do something with my time while waiting for this crime lord convention to get started. Besides, Edward’s a smart kid. I mean smart. He could go to Harvard or Yale with no problem.”

“I think Dominick has his heart set on Edward attending Yale, but he might want to stay here. I’d like it if he did. Although by then, I hope to be strong enough to have cut the apron strings a little.”

Blair chuckled a bit and then the two of them fell silent.

He thought about his stay at the Lazar house of the past few days. He’d gotten to know Edward and Michelle, and he stayed silent in Dominick’s presence unless directly spoken to. Erika he stayed away from and one Lazar bodyguard, Terry, he actively avoided. He did not want to be around the man any more than he had to be. Especially after Terry had roughed him up a bit, threatening him with things both physical and sexual if he stepped out of line. Shaken, Blair had laid deep and involved plans to stay out of the man’s way and so far, it had worked.

Looking over at Michelle, he studied the blonde woman. Funny, smart, beautiful, attractive, slender, tall… she was everything he’d always liked in a woman. If his life was normal, if he’d met her while at the university, he’d have made a play for her, big time. As it was, there was no chance of it now. Neither of them could afford to attempt a relationship. Dominick would not allow her to get involved with such a “common” man - especially a troublemaker - and Jim? Jim would probably kill him before he let Blair so much as look at anyone else.

Anger spurted through him, curling in his gut and streaking hotly up his spine to lodge somewhere in his heart and brain. Just where did Ellison get off, taking over every single part of his life, including the sex part of it? He could sleep with whomever he wanted to, just like Almighty Ellison could! Even if… even if he felt something, however reluctantly, for the older man….

Michelle noticed him frowning and reached out to touch his hand. “Blair? What’s wrong?”

He sighed and captured her hand in his. “Nothing, really. Just… thinking of what a shambles my life is right now.”

“I understand.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand, then let go of it and said, “Listen, I’d like to go back to my room, get some stuff done on the computer. Edward’s off doing something and doesn’t need me; no one does. So I’m heading back. Care to walk with me and get some air?”

“That sounds great,” she said with a smile, and they turned and left the library together.

They walked without speaking, leaving the main house and moving slowly down the path towards the garage, over which was the small, simple apartment that Blair had been living in the past few days.

Entering the garage, aware of Palmer and Turner discreetly walking along the lawn outside, they shut the door behind them and Blair walked over to the stairs that led up to his apartment. Turning to face her, he began saying, “Well, thanks for walking with me, but-“

She kissed him.

Blair sighed, a soft, sad sound that then changed into a low, hungry one when she wrapped her arms around his neck and teasingly deepened the kiss. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, opening his mouth slightly, pressing firmly yet softly against hers, and took the invitation she granted him to slip his tongue inside.

After several moments, they parted slightly and Blair shivered at the feel of her manicured nails slightly scratching his scalp as she toyed with his hair. “Michelle…”

“Blair,” she whispered, pressing another quick kiss to his mouth, enjoying the feel of it. “Blair, please. Don’t say anything. Just be with me.”

Wanting what she offered so much, unable to resist, Blair carefully led her up the stairs, into the apartment, and into his bed.

****

The conference was coming together nicely from what Jim could see. Most of the heavy hitters of the world who were in the crime lord business were here at Dominick Lazar’s house - not a mean feat in and of itself, given that two of the crime lords never left their countries unless an exceptional occasion called for it. Vincent would be arriving and would be unveiled soon enough, but there was still time to go check on Blair, see how his guide had faired in his absence. Though he had told Kadama that he was going to check on the kid to see if any new punishment was necessary, Jim quietly, in the back of his mind, admitted to himself that he had missed Blair and wanted to see him.

Entering the garage, Allison, Palmer, and Turner waiting outside, Jim headed over to the stairs and went up. He knocked on the door and called out, “Sandburg! I’m here. Let me in.”

He heard the heartbeat inside spike and then the muffled exclamation of his name. Then Blair approached the door and unlocked it, opening it to let the sentinel in.

Smiling, Jim stepped in and shut the door behind him. He took two steps towards Blair and then froze as the scent immediately hit him.

A woman’s scent.

Her perfume.

Her pheromones.

Her secretions.

Coupled with Blair’s own scent and pheromones and secretions.

Sniffing harder, drawing the instantly reviled stench of the woman into his nostrils, Jim was further able to identify her: Michelle Lazar, Vincent’s supposed “widow”.

Blair, who had been surprised when Jim had frozen, now shivered as Jim sniffed the air and rage scrawled across his features. Oh, shit. Oh, shit! He can smell what we did - and he knows who it was!

His theory was proven correct a moment later when Jim growled at him, “I hope Michelle was worth it, Sandburg.”

It was one of the last roughly coherent things he said for the next few hours.

Blair yelped as a strong hand clamped harshly over the back of his neck and then yanked him along beside Jim as the older man turned and headed for the door. He was propelled down the stairs and out of the garage.

“Get his things; we’re going home,” Jim snarled at Palmer and Turner, then speared Allison with a look. “Limo. Now. Tell Kadama there was an emergency. Be back in an hour.”

Instantly his employees leaped into action, Gary and Nate stepping quickly into the garage and heading up to the apartment as Allison walked away, discreetly pulling out her cell phone to call Jeff the chauffeur.

“Jim-“ Blair began, then shut up instantly when the sentinel snarled wordlessly at him.

A few moments later, the limo pulled up in front of them just as Allison came back from speaking to Kadama and Blair’s bodyguards came out of the garage with his bags packed. No one said a word; all three bodyguards and Blair instinctively understood that Jim should not be spoken to at the moment.

Nate and Gary stashed Blair’s bags in the quickly popped trunk while the others entered the limo and then climbed into the car, shutting the door behind them. They all stayed silent as the car quickly and silently left the Lazar property.

***

Kadama Kenji watched the Ellison limo pull away and smirked to himself. “Jim, my friend, I believe young Mr. Sandburg is going to be your downfall.”

Just then, one of his aides came striding up to him urgently. In rapid Japanese, the aide explained that one of their contacts within the police department had just given them the word that the cops were gathering their forces, having secured a warrant, and would be on their way and over there within a half-hour.

Cursing, Kadama thought for a moment and then sighed. There was only one possible outcome that would do any of them any good, as well as grease the way for him and Ellison.

Firing off orders to begin placing blocks of C-4 and other explosives in various corners of the household, Kadama then went to Toshio Nuri, luring him away on the pretense of needing to speak Japanese business with him. As soon as they were far enough away from the others who were milling about in the formal study, he quietly explained what was happening and that they had time to get themselves and their people discreetly away. Instantly, Toshio agreed and they began filtering their people out slowly as they themselves calmly headed towards the front of the house and the circular driveway where they could quickly dive into a limo and escape.

Bidding his friend a silent goodbye and praying for Dominick’s soul, Kadama casually walked out of the house that would soon become a funeral pyre for many people.

***

Blair entered Jim’s bedroom and then froze; it was almost pitch black. The door closed behind him with a sharp snap and he could feel Jim moving soundlessly behind him. Before he knew what was happening, he was caught and thrown up against the closest wall, his hands caught and held behind him in a strong grip.

A low growl rumbled in Jim’s chest and Blair could feel it since Jim’s chest was pressed to his back. Then he was turned around and pushed back against the wall, his hands trapped between his body and Jim’s unyielding body. Jim was aggressively scenting him, growling and tensing as he took in the smell of Blair’s copulation with another person. With a growl, his jacket was yanked down to hang around his wrists. A fist grabbed the front of his shirt and he quivered in fear when he saw the glitter of knife that Jim had procured from a drawer in the desk in his room.

“Jim, no, please! You don’t have to do this!”

“My guide!” Jim snarled gutturally, surprising the hell out of Blair. “I can smell the bitch in heat on you. Mine!” The knife cut through the front of his shirt and the cotton undershirt beneath it.

“Jim-“ Blair broke off as a knee between his thighs slid him higher so that his lower body was pinned to the wall. A hand thudded to the side of his head; the knife was imbedded in the wall. With one hand holding his head tight with a fistful of long hair, Jim’s other hand moved over his body, the sentinel’s breath coming in quick pants, his primitive instincts in control.

He leaned down and began to rub his face against Blair’s, nipping and biting him, his tongue soothing the raw skin, the sentinel marking his guide; marking his mate. Striving to let the world know that this man was his.

What started as a purr turned into yet another snarl. “Her scent. The bitch’s stench is all over you.”

Blair tensed and struggled to get free. “She’s not a bitch, Ellison!” he snapped, anger and frustration boiling up inside him. “Dammit, you don’t own me! I can sleep with whomever I want to!”

“Mine,” Jim hissed. “MINE!”

A moment later, Blair found himself marched to the bathroom. The sentinel looked around for a way to secure his guide. He spun Blair around, pushing him face first into the tiles of the shower wall. One wrist was released and twisted around in front of him and then, to his complete shock, Jim tore at his tie, loosening it, then yanked it from around his neck. The silken fabric was tied around his wrist before Blair could comprehend what was happening. Then he was hauled up on his toes and his hands where placed over the showerhead, Jim wrapping the remaining length of the tie around his other wrist and the showerhead, tying him tightly. Blair was forced to stand on his toes as he tried to peer over his shoulder to see what his sentinel was doing. The man was lost in his instincts and if he was lucky, he might just survive this. Ellison had claimed him and he had been with another person; Michelle had fucked what was his. “Jim, you have to listen to me. You can’t do this; you have to let me go.”

Jim moved closer and Blair began to breathe a sigh of relief. Then his hair was caught and his head was pulled back, exposing his throat. “Mine. Only mine.”

The sentinel’s body was pressed up against him for a moment and then he was released. Jim was moving away. Blair released a breath he had not known he was holding.

He lowered his head between his arms, thinking hard to come up with a way to get out of this predicament.

A sharp swat across his backside brought his head up with a rough jerk. He twisted to see that Jim was back, naked now, the knife once more in his hand. The palm of the other hand pushed his head forward and he felt the touch of the cold steel against the back of his neck. Then the blade moved down, not touching his skin but slicing through the rest of the shirts, cutting them into rags. Blair shivered as he felt Jim’s hand move over his back, lightly tracing the nerves beneath his skin. Reaching around, the hand moved over his chest, fingering his nipples into hard points, and then dragged down across his stomach, fingers carding through the thick hair on his torso.

Blair’s breath hitched in his throat and he could not stop himself from leaning back against the older man. Jim’s touch was like a trail of fire across his skin. He could feel a burning in the pit of his stomach as Jim nuzzled at the back of his neck, where Blair’s scent was thicker, and the younger man began to squirm as he reacted to the touch of his sentinel and mate.

Jim suddenly straightened up and growled as he detected the change in Blair’s scent. He was aroused; hot and hungry and if the pheromones were any indication, his mate was suddenly in the mood to be fucked.

A low, wicked chuckle rumbled up from Jim’s chest, betraying his slight amusement at how ready and needy his guide was.

Blair abruptly came back to a more coherent frame of mind and blushed, trying to pull away in his embarrassment. He would not - could not - let Jim know what he felt. A low growl of his own spilled from his throat as tears of frustration welled in his eyes. He couldn’t seem to help his reaction to this man, not one tiny bit. No matter how rotten Jim treated him, no matter how angry he was at the sentinel, his body always seemed to do its best to rise to the occasion whenever Jim came to him.

A hard bite to his shoulder brought him back to the present. The sentinel was unsettled; one moment, his guide was responding to him and then he had stilled and he could smell the salt of tears, felt Blair shivering.

Reaching up, he untied the knots in the tie and then removed it altogether, throwing it across the bathroom. He caught Blair’s wrists in his hands and began to rub them gently, easing the circulation back into them. When he released his hold, Blair cradled them against his chest.

Bending, Jim removed his guide’s shoes and then scented him again, his nose nuzzling at Blair’s groin through the dress pants the younger man was wearing. The scent from the female was still there. Blair could not look at him. Reaching up, Jim turned on the water, hooking an arm around Blair and bringing him under the flow of warm water, holding him against his chest. He felt a surge of ownership when his guide pressed close and buried his face against his chest.

The sentinel reached a hand down and tugged at his trousers. Blair shook his head and Jim growled. He needed to see his guide, needed to take him in order to stake his ownership of him. Nothing that we haven’t done before, Blair thought fuzzily.

Shaking, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pushed them down, using one foot to push them off. Jim’s hand dropped lower, carefully handling his butt and genitals, and then pulled him close under the warm water. Once he was sure Blair was holding onto him, he soaped up a washcloth and began to clean his back, from his neck down to his waist, massaging the tight muscles, relaxing him, arousing him with his firm, gentle touch.

When the washcloth went lower, soaping his buttocks thoroughly and then dipping into his crack, Blair arched up against Jim, biting at his throat. He was highly aroused, needing, wanting; his breath was catching in his throat. His inhibitions and reluctance were fast dissolving. All he knew was that he needed to mate with Jim.

But the sentinel was in no hurry. He seemed to want to turn his guide into mush. He pulled one of Blair’s legs up to rest on his hip, then pushed him back against the wall, lifting him up off the floor of the large tub. The smell of hot, needy Blair was driving him crazy, as was the feel of naked, wet Blair in his arms. His senses began to cascade as he lost control and then Blair began talking to him soothingly, his hands running over the smooth skin of his chest. Blair was almost purring as the muscles of the rock hard pectorals and abs rippled under his fingertips.

Now that the scent of the female was washed from his mate’s body, Jim was going to claim Blair for his own.

They had no sooner made it to the bed, still damp, when there was a loud, shuddering explosion not too far away and the night became day with the brightness of the flames that spewed into the sky.

Jim, who’d had his senses wide open, let out a horrible scream of agony as the noise and light ripped through his ears and eyes. He felt the concussion wave pass through his home, rattling windows and other glass objects, vibrating their skin and bones, and then it was gone, leaving him deafened and in pain.

Beneath him, Blair gasped and he brought his hands up to cover Jim’s ears, rolling them over and bending to shroud Jim’s face with his own and his hair. Knowing that sound would hurt Jim right now, he simply pressed his lips to Jim’s forehead and quietly mouthed the words with no sound as he tried to calm the sentinel down.

A loud pounding at the door made Jim jerk and shudder with extra pain. When the door burst in and Allison, Gary and Nate stepped through with their guns drawn, Blair glared over his shoulder, not giving a damn about his nakedness or Jim’s, and hissed, “No noise! It hurts him right now!”

Startled, they blinked and then holstered their guns. Allison soundlessly pointed to the windows and Nate and Gary moved to draw the drapes while she stepped quietly over to the bed and looked down. Tapping Blair’s shoulder to get his attention, when he looked up, she mouthed, “Will he be all right?”

Blair nodded gently and motioned her away, careful to keep his movements from jostling Jim too much. He heard the soft whisper of feet tiptoeing out of the room and the equally soft click of the door closing, but when Jim flinched beneath him, he knew it was still resoundingly loud to the sentinel.

Mouth pressed again to Jim’s forehead, he mouthed silently, “It’s okay, Jim, everything is all right. Focus on touch; focus on what you can feel instead of hear. I know it hurts, man, I know. Try to find your dials, lower sight and hearing until it’s comfortable again. C’mon, man, you can do it, I know you can. We gotta find out what’s happened. C’mon, Jim, you can do it. Relax and find your center, find your dials. Just relax, everything is fine, you’re safe. I promise I’ll protect you; won’t let anything hurt you. Just relax, relax, relax….”

It took almost an hour of continuous silent talking, but finally, Jim relaxed beneath him, his hands flattening against Blair’s back and stroking, instead of curled hard against him in fists. Eventually, he sighed and relaxed completely beneath Blair, falling into a deep and restful sleep.

Slowly, Blair climbed off of Jim, wincing as stiffened joints twinged and blood returned to limbs gone numb. Folding the top blanket so that the unoccupied half of it covered the sleeping sentinel, Blair then hobbled around the room, walking his circulation back to normal. Finally, he grabbed up Jim’s robe and made his way down the hall to his room, where he climbed into old jeans, a sweater, socks, and sneakers. Then he made his way downstairs.

Only to be shocked to find Captain Banks and two of his officers standing in the downstairs library with Allison, while Gary and Nate looked on.

When the captain spotted him, he flashed a polite smile and waved him over. “Mr. Sandburg! Nice to see you again, though it is a surprise,” he boomed out, and Blair winced internally, hoping Jim wouldn’t wake up.

“Captain Banks, right?” When the policeman nodded, he smiled and reached out his hand, which was taken and shook before being released. “Nice to see you, too, I guess. Is your presence here in response to that horrible explosion we all heard, felt, and saw? What was that, anyway?”

“That, unfortunately, was the home of Dominick Lazar going up in one big bang,” Captain Banks sighed roughly, and then blinked when Blair paled and swayed slightly on his feet. “Are you alright, Mr. Sandburg?”

“D-Dominick Lazar’s home?” Blair struggled to get out.

“Yes. Someone planted explosives and several people were killed during what appears to have been a dinner conference.”

Blair paled further. “I - I tutored Edward, Mr. Lazar’s grandson, during the last week as a favor for Mr. Lazar. He - Edward’s only ten… he actually liked me… please…?”

There were times when Simon truly hated his job and this was one of them. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sandburg, but Edward Lazar is dead. As is his mother, his grandfather, his aunt, and several other people.”

Blair made a low sound in his throat and turned away, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry this is bad news for you, Mr. Sandburg. I wasn’t aware that you had known these people well enough to feel their loss.”

“They - you said someone planted bombs there. They were murdered. Isn’t that reason enough to feel bad?” the teacher growled, then sighed. “I liked Edward. He was a… charming kid. So young and s-smart….” He swallowed hard, struggling to control his emotions. “His mother was nice, too. She had a friendly smile.” He sighed again.

Simon cleared his throat and stepped forward, awkwardly patting Blair’s shoulder consolingly. “Again, I’m sorry, Mr. Sandburg. The reason we’re here, well, we need to talk to Mr. Ellison.”

“He’s upstairs, asleep. We were up in his room, discussing some files he’d brought home when the explosion happened. He… Jim was in the Army for a few years and apparently the explosion triggered a memory or two. He flipped out, started screaming, and then he fell over with his hands over his ears, shouting about the noise and the light. Mr. Palmer and Mr. Turner, there, helped me get him onto the bed and then they pulled the drapes shut to block out the light. I began talking Jim through it and finally, he relaxed and went to sleep. He’s going to be mortified when he wakes up. If he remembers anything. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder does that sometimes.”

“Mr. Ellison has PTSD? I’ve never heard that mentioned,” Captain Banks stated quietly.

“It’s not something a powerful man like James Ellison would want bandied about and commented on,” Blair replied with a shrug, and Simon nodded.

“Okay, then. We’ve already seen the surveillance tapes that show the limo arriving here roughly 25 minutes before the explosion, so he’s tentatively covered-“

“You think Jim set that explosion?!” Blair gasped, incredulous.

Simon shrugged and looked away. “I don’t think anything at the moment, Mr. Sandburg. My job is to cover all the bases and get all the facts before I begin thinking. When Mr. Ellison wakes up, would you please inform him that we would like to speak to him at his earliest convenience? Thank you. Goodnight, everyone. We’ll see ourselves out.”

Blair and the others watched as the officers left the library. A moment later, they heard the front door slam shut.

He let out a deep breath and then looked over at the bodyguards, who were watching him with something akin to amazement. “What?”

“That was a good cover story, Mr. Sandburg,” Allison said smoothly.

“The only thing I could think of. We’ll see how well it works. Um … listen, I’m gonna get something to drink and then I’m going to sit with Jim for a while if you need either of us.”

All three nodded and Blair turned and left the library. He was a few feet outside the door, heading for the kitchen, when he heard Gary’s bass voice rumble out, “Well, I’m sorry about the kid; he didn’t have any problems.”

“Except for being a Lazar,” Allison replied. “Still… it is a shame. I know Mr. Ellison liked the kid. And, of course, Mr. Sandburg.”

“Yeah,” Nate echoed quietly.

That’s all Blair heard before he moved out of range. Forgoing a cup of coffee, knowing it wouldn’t sit well on his stomach just then, Blair retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge before heading back upstairs, cracking the seal before he got to the bedroom.

Quietly, he opened the door and slipped inside, moving slowly so as not to hurt or startle the sleeping man. He toed off his shoes and then carefully climbed up onto the end of the bed and sat cross-legged facing Jim, placing the water bottle between his legs.

Then, still quietly, he sighed and closed his eyes as he began meditating, trying to clear his mind of the headache and turmoil that had taken up residence over the past hour or so.

****

Jim groaned as he slowly awakened from a long hard sleep. Blinking his eyes open, he was surprised to find the room enshrouded in darkness. Focusing his eyes, he realized it was because the drapes had been pulled tightly shut and no lights were on.

Carefully dialing up his hearing, he was startled to find the dials were set very low. Almost instantly, he heard the familiar rhythm of Blair’s heartbeat coming from the foot of the bed.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Jim looked down the length of the bed to find Blair flopped over on his side, wearing jeans and a sweater and gripping an empty water bottle. The sentinel blinked again, surprised, then struggled to sit up, moving like an old man as pain gripped the back, sides and top of his head like a vise.

Feeling the bed jouncing beneath him woke Blair up and he yawned and stretched, then realized the bed was moving because Jim was. He scrambled upright, spun around, and got to his feet, then hurried around to the side of the bed, reaching to help the other man. “Jim! My God, you had me worried. Are you okay?” he whispered frantically.

“Yeah, yeah, except for this damn migraine,” Jim growled. “And why are you whispering, anyway?”

“Because you had your hearing dialed up when the explosion happened; your hearing took a beating. Eyes, too. That’s why the drapes are shut. Want me to massage away the migraine?”

“Uh… yeah. And what explosion?” Jim asked as Blair crawled onto the bed behind him and then began a soothing facial and cranial massage that soon began relaxing Jim.

“What do you remember last?”

Jim thought about it for a moment, then frowned as he growled, “Coming back from Japan and finding out you’d fucked around behind my back with that bitch.”

“Yeah, well… anyway, you went primal and dragged me back here, along with all my stuff, and Gary and Nate. Then you brought me up here to your bedroom and kept snarling about how I’m yours and you had to get the stench off me. You stripped us both naked, tied me to the showerhead, and washed me off. Then you dragged me out here to the bed and were about to really lay claim to me, when… when Dominick Lazar’s house blew up.”

Jim, whose pain had receded and was letting the massage soothe his muscles, tensed up and then leaped to his feet, whirling around to stare down at Blair in shock. “What?”

Blair nodded, looking up at him with sad blue eyes. “About half an hour after we left, the house blew up. Someone had planted bombs in Dominick’s house.”

“Who… how many people…?”

“Everyone in the house. Dominick, Erika, Michelle… Edward. The others there for the conference. Except for Kadama and Toshio Nuri.”

“What?” Now the single word was laced with rage instead of shock.

“Allison took a phone call a few hours ago from Kadama. He left a message with her for you so you wouldn’t be worried when you heard about the news. Oh, he also hopes you feel better after your bout with PTSD.”

“Post-Traumatic Stress… I don’t have PTSD!”

“Yes, you do, as far as the cops are concerned. That’s the story I had to feed them about why you couldn’t come down to talk to them when they showed up to question you,” Blair grumbled.

Jim blinked again. “You what?”

“I saved your ass, Ellison! What part of this aren’t you getting? A ten-year-old boy was murdered - he and his whole family blown up into bits - and I covered for you. I’m getting really good at that, don’t you think?” Blair spat, then rolled away to stand on the other side of the bed.

Jim frowned and came around to the other side of the bed. His first impulse was to lash out in anger, but the misery smell was coming off his guide in waves and he couldn’t stand it. Reaching out, he gently took hold of Blair’s shoulders and turned the younger man to face him. When Blair closed his eyes, averting his face, he sighed and pulled Sandburg into his arms, holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You got to know and like Edward, didn’t you?”

Blair nodded against Jim’s chest. “Yeah. Michelle asked me to tutor him. He… Jim, he actually liked me….”

“Yeah. Figured he would. You’re really likeable, Chief.”

The younger man let out a low moan and pressed closer to Jim, who hugged him tightly. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, Chief. I promise. I’m sorry it happened. And I’m sorry if I hurt you or scared you.”

Blair gave a soft shiver and then murmured, “We’ll discuss it later, Jim. For right now… the cops need to talk to you at your earliest convenience. Jim… they won’t have pictures of you in Japan talking to Toshio, will they?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. Toshio Nuri is extremely paranoid about being under surveillance. It’s one reason why he never leaves Japan. So we’re probably covered on that score. Listen, let me get dressed and then we’ll get things taken care of, okay? What time is it?”

“Almost two in the afternoon. You’ve been out of it for a while. That’s why I was so worried.”

“I’m touched that you care, Chief.” For once, his voice held no inflection of sarcasm.

Blair sighed and snuggled again, his arms wrapped tightly around Jim’s bare waist.

****

“Dammit, Kenji, he was just a kid!” Jim roared at his friend and sometimes business partner.

“He was a Lazar, already being groomed for the job, and he knew more about what went on with his grandfather than we thought, Ellison!” Kadama shot back. “Who do you think called the police?”

Jim blinked, surprised, then hardened his gaze again. “That was no excuse to give him a painful death like that! He was only ten-years-old and trying to do the right thing, like his mother kept spouting at him!”

“Ah, yes, his mother. The beautiful Michelle… who managed to seduce your boyfriend,” Kenji sniped. “How is the poor boy handling this, by the way? Did you punish him again?”

Abruptly, Jim stood before the other man and Kadama read his death in that ice blue gaze.

“You go too far, Kenji,” Jim growled. “Blair Sandburg is off limits.”

Too well trained to let his spurt of fear show, Kadama merely nodded acquiescence and breathed an internal sigh of relief when Jim backed away.

They were silent for a moment and then Kadama ventured carefully, “He has become a weakness to use against you, Jim.”

Ellison sighed roughly. “I know that. I’m well aware of that. But I can’t let him go, Kenji. It’s more than just him being an attractive body to fuck. I need him.”

“For your senses?”

Jim let out an inelegant snort. “Why am I not surprised that you know?”

“Because you know me. I have kept silent about what I know, Jim. None of my people know, either. I handled that assignment myself.”

“Thank you.”

“So, what does he do for you?”

“He grounds my senses. History that has been forgotten or ignored or vilified states that all sentinels - the name for people like me - had companions that helped them control their senses and guarded the Watchman’s back while they were in use. Brackett - remember him? - he named Blair my ‘Guide’. I rather like that. So, Blair is my guide and I’m the sentinel.”

“Wouldn’t the name ‘sentinel’ imply you to be some kind of protector of humanity?”

Jim gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Yeah, it’s supposed to be. Which is why I’m handing over all of my underworld crime lord stuff to you.”

Now it was Kadama’s turn to blink in shock. “Jim?”

“You heard me. I’m getting out of the crime lord business. All my contacts and all my business dealings in that area will be handed over to you. I’m not going completely clean - I am a businessman - but… I don’t think I can be one of the black hats anymore. It’s too late to be one of the white hats. Maybe I’ll be a gray….”

Kadama sighed and shook his head. “Yet another Bonanza reference. I thought I’d cured you of that.”

Jim flashed him a mischievous smile and drawled out in a Texas twang, “Never, pardner.”

Muttering under his breath in Japanese, Kadama turned away to pour himself a glass of scotch from his office mini-bar.

“So… you’re going relatively straight. Does your - what are they called nowadays? Life-partner? - have anything to do with that?”

Jim almost took offense at that name, but then he paused to consider it. “Yes, I suppose he will be my life-partner, won’t he? I’m going to need him for my senses and I’ll have them all my life, so-“

“And, um, will either of you have relationships outside of each other?”

“Well, yes. He’s going to go back to school to teach and I’ve got business acquaintances-“

“Ellison, denial is no river in Egypt!” Kadama thundered, smacking his fist into the arm of the chair he’d chosen to sit in. “I meant sexual relationships.”

At that, Jim frowned. “No. No one will ever touch him again except me.”

“That goes without saying. But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Jim-“

“Look, Kenji, I don’t… I just don’t know, okay? Yes, he’s part of the reason why I’m giving up my crime lord schtick. He’s never made any bones about not liking that part of me. And after that fiasco involving Agent Kimuru, I know the cops and the Feds have been sniffing after me. I’ve been at this for about twelve years now, beginning in the Army. I’ve amassed enough wealth via crime dealings and business practices that I can afford to let the first one go.”

Kadama sighed. “You make a good argument for getting out of it myself. Except that I have no cute other half in my life to make it worthwhile. Okay, Jim. I’ll take your contacts and shady dealings. From now on, we’ll be sometimes legal business partners only.”

“Thank you. I’ll have everything ready by this evening. I think I should go now. Blair was shaken up by what happened to the Lazars - he really liked Edward - and I have no idea what he’s capable of right now, especially after going to the funeral yesterday.”

Kadama snorted. “Ellison, you are whipped.”

“Like hell! I just prefer to remain in control.”

“You’re floating down that river again, Ellison, and it’s a long one.”

“Don’t I know it. Thanks for seeing me, Kenji. See you around sometime.”

“Goodbye, Jim. Want me to walk you out?”

“No, thanks. Not necessary. And Kenji? Watch your back. Vincent Lazar is still out there somewhere.”

Kadama nodded and watched as Jim collected his overcoat and left the office, shutting the door behind him. Sighing, he lifted his glass in a silent toast - first to the Lazars and the people who died with them and then to James Ellison - and knocked back the scotch in one quick swallow, grimacing at the barbarism of the act.

“Only for you, Jim, would I not savor fine scotch,” Kadama grumbled, then got up and moved to his desk to begin preparations for receiving Ellison’s criminal files.

****

Jim sighed as he arrived home from the office two weeks later. It had been a long day and an even longer two weeks, as he’d tried to be considerate of Blair in the wake of the explosion. Not an easy task for a man who was used to being inconsiderate and supremely used to taking what he wanted.

And what he wanted was to finish his act of claiming Blair.

He had thought long and hard about that night and he finally remembered what had happened. The explosion had interrupted them before he could make his final claim on Blair’s body, so in the meantime, he’d begun courting the younger man, letting Blair know in small ways that he would finish what he’d started and that, at the end of it all, Blair belonged to him.

Although Blair had said that purchasing the mustang for him had been a bit over the top.

He couldn’t help it, though. He’d known about Blair’s love of classic cars and since he had the money and this one was a beauty, there was no way in his right mind he could pass it up for his… mate.

The title brought a shiver to Jim as he thought about it. “Mate” sounded so final, so primitive… so very, very right.

As he climbed out of the limo, he noticed that the cherry red 1964 mustang was not in the driveway. Frowning, just to make sure, he stretched out his hearing and did not locate Blair’s heartbeat in the house. Slightly worried but letting it show as anger, Jim slammed the limo door shut as soon as Allison had exited the limo and stalked into the house, calling for Blair.

Gary and Nate appeared almost before he’d finished the yell of Blair’s name. “He’s not here, sir,” Nate said quickly.

He fixed them with an icy look. “Then where is he?”

They traded hesitant looks and then Gary replied, “We don’t know.”

Jim’s first impulse was to reach for the gun hidden in a holster beneath his jacket.

His hand actually twitched in that general direction before he caught himself, noticing how Gary and Nate flinched back slightly. Struggling to remain calm, he said, “Then tell me what you do know.”

“He was here up until the mail came. He got a letter from St. Sebastian’s Monastery. Then we never heard a peep out of him. We were taking a lunch break and we didn’t know he’d left until one of the gardeners came in and asked about the mustang that left a few minutes ago. That was about an hour ago and you were already on your way home. We figured you’d want to get cleaned up, get things in order, and then take off after him yourself,” Nate said in a rush.

Jim eyed him. “You said all that in one breath, Mr. Turner. You’re picking up some bad habits from Sandburg.”

Nate flushed a dull red and looked away.

“On the other hand, you figured correctly. I would like to clean up, get things in order, and then take off after him. I’d like to handle this myself, so no one goes with me. I’ll let you know what’s going on when I catch up with him.”

There was a chorus of “Yes, sirs” and then Jim headed upstairs, not bothering to place his briefcase in the home office. He stopped to look into Blair’s old room - one of the things that had happened with Jim staking his claim was that Blair now stayed in Jim’s bedroom permanently - and poked his head into the closet. A few things that hadn’t been transferred into Jim’s closet were missing from this one. Growling, Jim continued down the hall to his bedroom and stepped inside, taking a quick look around. It was obvious that someone had packed and left in a hurry.

“Dammit, Sandburg, when I get hold of you… what the hell made you think you could just take off like this?!” Jim growled as he slung the briefcase onto his bedroom desk and began unknotting his tie.

Nearly an hour later, he was finally ready to depart.

“Allison, you know what to do. If anyone calls needing a meeting with me, tell them I’m unavailable and I’ll get back to them as soon as I can. Forward all urgent messages to my cell phone, but don’t expect me to pick up. It’s a monastery; no cell phones allowed. Gary, Nate, you’ve got security.”

“Yes, sir!” they all chorused as Nate stashed Jim’s bags in the well behind the seat of his F-150.

Nodding goodbye, he climbed in, started the truck, then took off quickly.

The three bodyguards watched him go and then turned to go back into the house, wondering what had possessed Sandburg to take off like that.

***

Pulling into the dooryard of the St. Sebastian’s Monastery, Jim’s jaw tightened when he saw the mustang parked off to the side. He wasn’t that thrilled with being back here, anyway; the only good memories he had of this place was the bell tower where he’d taken Blair for the first time.

Parking the truck beside the mustang, he turned off the ignition, then climbed out and slammed the door shut. He paused for a moment, then dialed up his hearing carefully.

And was astonished to hear the Last Rites being read in the dormitory.

He hurried into the building and traced the voices up to the third floor, listening as the Rites came to an end just as he arrived on the landing.

Halting, he watched as the monks filed out of the room at the end of the hall. There were three new monks whom he’d never met before, who seemed puzzled to see him, but not shocked. The others who recognized him nodded politely, casting pitying looks his way that puzzled him. When he saw Father Jeremy, something in Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He’d grown fond of the crusty old coot in a weird sort of way the last time they’d been there; he always laughed at the admonishments for him from Jeremy sent in the letters to Blair.

Then he noticed who was conspicuously absent and his heart constricted as an awful suspicion settled over him.

When Blair appeared, shuffling out into the hallway, his face drawn and lined with grief and tears, his suspicion was confirmed, and he moved quietly down the hallway to meet his mate.

Blair looked up, sensing something familiar, and saw Jim standing two feet away from him. He shuddered once and then, with a low, mournful sound, he stepped forward into the hug Jim offered him immediately.

Jim cuddled the younger man to him, wishing he knew what to do to alleviate deep pain and grief, since he was usually the one causing it. He looked over Blair’s head to Father Jeremy, who was watching them with quiet sadness, and saw the deep grief in the abbot’s eyes as well.

“I’m sorry,” Jim murmured quietly, and Jeremy nodded.

“We didn’t know the phone number in order to reach Blair and our phone was out of order; that’s why we had to send a letter when we knew for sure that Brother Marcus was leaving us. He was lucid and got to speak with Blair for a few moments, if that makes it any better. His… his passing was swift and peaceful,” Jeremy said quietly. “He will be missed.”

Jim nodded. “I understand.”

Jeremy looked at the other man for a long, long moment and realized that Jim did understand, somehow, just how much Marcus had meant to him. Clearing his throat, he nodded and shuffled past them, pausing to touch Blair’s shoulder.

“Blair, my son, you may stay with us for as long as you need, if you wish,” he said quietly.

Wordlessly, Blair nodded, unable to say anything in his grief just then.

Jeremy gave Jim a look that said “be careful with that boy or else” and then he patted Blair’s shoulder again and walked away.

Jim and Blair were silent for a long time, holding onto one another. Finally, Jim sighed and lowered his head so he could whisper in Blair’s ear, “Chief? I’m sorry about Marcus. I didn’t know when I followed you up here. What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” Blair choked out, his throat tight with unshed tears.

“Can I stay with you while you figure it out?”

“Yes. God, please, yes.”

“Okay, Darwin, okay. Want to stay here after the funeral or do you want to go to my mountain cabin again?”

“Cabin. Funeral will be tomorrow; we can leave anytime after that. The brothers will have enough to do without putting up with my weeping and wailing. Shit, even you have-“

“Nothing to do now except make sure you’re okay, Chief,” Jim interrupted smoothly. “If you need some time away from civilization, then you’ll get it. We’ll have to leave the mustang here, though; there’s snow up in the mountains, this being late autumn; the F-150 is the only thing that’d make it.”

“Yeah. Right, okay,” Blair agreed with a nod. “Jim?”

“Yeah, Chief.”

“Thanks for following me and taking care of me.”

“I wasn’t thrilled with you running off, though I do understand it now. I just wish you had tried to call me and ask me to go with you.”

“Why? You hated this place and everyone and everything in it.”

“Not entirely true, Chief. I’m oddly fond of the monks and as I recall, there are some good memories of this place between the two of us. I think so, anyway.” Jim smiled when he felt the heat of Blair’s blush against his chest. “Okay, Chief, sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you; not now, anyway. C’mon, let’s go find Jeremy and ask him for a cell so you can take a nap. Then I’ll find out what I can do to help.”

“Jim, no, I don’t want to be alone right now-“

“You won’t be alone, Blair. You know I can hear you wherever I am. Just talk to me and I’ll listen to you. Then I can come back and hold you for a bit,” Jim promised softly.

Blair finally lifted his head from Jim’s chest and looked up at him in amazement.

“What?” Ellison asked calmly.

“I don’t understand you. A month ago, you were treating me like… like… you were just really cold, man. Have been for months, ever since I met you, except when we… you know. But in the last two weeks you’ve been so courteous of me and now this….”

“You’d prefer it if I went back to being a cold bastard and treating you like crap?”

“No! But-“

“Don’t question it, Sandburg. Don’t look the gift horse in the mouth. Just go with it.“

“But, Jim, man, that’s just it. If I get used to this, how am I going to take it when you go back to being cold and hard again?” Blair asked quietly.

Jim frowned and looked away for a moment, then back down at the man he held in his arms. Absently, he brushed a lock of hair out of Blair’s eyes, smoothing it back, and he murmured, “Don’t go borrowing trouble, Chief. You don’t know what’s going to happen. Neither do I. Let’s just… play it by ear, okay?”

Sighing, suddenly tired, Blair nodded again and let his head droop down to rest on Jim’s chest again.

Jim held him for a few more moments, then said, “C’mon, Chief. Let’s go find a room to crash in.”

Blair let Jim guide him down the hallway and down the stairs, the two of them moving slowly, until the came to Jeremy’s office. Jim knocked once, then opened the door and stuck his head in.

“Jeremy?” he called quietly.

The abbot lifted his head from the prayer he’d been using in meditation and looked at him. “Yes, Brother Jim… how may I help you?”

“I’m sorry to intrude on your grief right now, Jeremy, but Blair needs to lay down. Is there a cell we can use for the evening? That’s all we need for right now.”

“Of course,” Jeremy said instantly, and got to his feet, retrieving his keyring from the top drawer of his desk.

He walked out of his office, pulling the door shut behind him, and led the way to the first floor cells and opened one at the end of the hall, the same one they’d stayed in last time.

“Here you are; it’s clean and as comfortable as can be. Is there anything else you require?” Jeremy asked politely.

“Let me get Blair settled and then I’d like to talk to you for a few moments,” Jim murmured, and led Blair over to one of the beds. He got the younger man comfortably situated, removing his sneakers and pulling the blanket up, tucking it under Blair’s chin. He smiled gently as Blair looked up at him with sleepy, miserable eyes and smoothed back his hair. “Comfy, Chief?”

Blair nodded without saying anything.

“Okay, then. I’m going to go talk with Jeremy.” Bending, he pitched his voice lower and said, “And you can talk to me if you need to. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Again, Blair nodded and Jim smiled, patted his shoulder, and got up, quietly exiting the room out into the hall where Jeremy waited, pulling the door shut gently.

He and Jeremy began walking back towards the abbot’s office slowly, silence between them. Finally, the abbot glanced over at Jim and said, “There’s something different about you, Brother Jim. Something… kinder; softer. I never would have thought you were capable of such gentleness with anyone, let alone Brother Blair.”

“Things change,” Jim replied quietly. “I’ve changed. That’s not really important right now. What I wanted to say was that I’ll help however I can. Would you like me to take Marcus down to the chapel for you?”

Jeremy swallowed around a lump in his throat and coughed. “I… yes, thank you. I would prefer taking care of him myself once he’s there, but I would appreciate your help in moving him.”

“Okay, then.” Pausing outside Jeremy’s office, he looked down into the abbot’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry he’s gone. Blair cared for him a great deal.”

“Blair wasn’t the only one,” Jeremy muttered, then sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“Miss him already. I know. Don’t be sorry. I’ll leave you alone, now,” Jim said quietly, and turned to go.

“Brother Jim.”

“Yes?” Ellison replied, glancing over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Jim smiled at the older man, nodded, and then walked away to go collect Marcus’ body.

***

On to Part 3