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“The head of the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation,” Catch said. “And he kicks hard.”

“No,” Turner muttered. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Golding had to make it look good when he kicked you,” Seth said.

“You probably deserved it.” Mason snorted and Catch glared.

“But he’s not Golding,” Turner said.

“Yeah, he is,” three voices said in unison.

Turner felt material tear under his nails. He’d been tricked. Again.

“Why wasn’t I told what was happening?” Catch asked.

“Because of your relationship with Turner,” Mason said.

Catch growled. “Relationship? I haven’t seen him for twenty fucking years.”

Mason raised his eyebrows and Catch crumpled. Turner’s brain struggled to work.

“This part of the operation has been in place for months,” Mason said. “Seth and Devlin unearthed Nick, made friends with him and waited for Gabriel’s discharge before introducing Golding to Gabriel as Victor—a driver, minder, finder, whatever the hell Gabriel wants him to be. He’s pretending to be a were, using were scent to disguise his vampire. Golding’s been waiting twenty years to flush out the Council member who voted for Gabriel and Dava’s imprisonment rather than execution. Whoever this member is, Golding reckons he wants control of the whole Council and sees Gabriel as a means of achieving that.”

“I think maybe I know who it is,” Turner said.

All faces turned in his direction.

“Sort of,” he corrected. “After the trial I was approached by a vampire who introduced himself as Golding. He said despite the Court declaring the books to be lies, not all members of the Council were in agreement. This guy, who I now see was pretending to be Golding, knew I’d never work as an historian again and he offered me a job, researching the copies he was sure I’d made since I was so insistent the books weren’t fakes. It became clear there was information missing and I told him there was no way to identify the plants mentioned in the books. He persuaded me to keep trying. Every time I tried to stop, he pushed me to keep looking.”

Turner snorted in disgust. “The guy couldn’t give a shit if the diaries had any truth in them or not. He just needed me to believe in them so Gabriel would too. He relied on the fact I’d want to drop out of society after the trial. How would I know he wasn’t who he said he was?”

“Describe him,” Mason said.

“My height, six four, dark hair to his shoulders and a blue tattoo under his hair on the left side of his temple.”

“Feynman,” said Mason.

The color leached out of Catch’s face and his mouth tightened in a thin line. Turner wondered what Feynman was to Catch.

Chapter Twenty-Four

There was nothing Turner wanted more than to shut the door on the world and go upstairs with Matty and Catch, but the drawing room couldn’t be left in this state, blood everywhere and Dava beginning to decompose. He persuaded Matty to go upstairs to take a bath while he, Catch, Mason and Seth sorted out the room. Everything stained and broken was thrown out and blood washed away. Turner had made sure Matty didn’t see the remains of Dava. She hadn’t exactly disappeared, more dissolved into sludge. An unpleasant reminder of what lay in store for mortally injured older vampires unless the sun burned them to ash.

Mason was waiting for Golding to return his call. Turner knew Catch was furious at having been kept out of the loop, but it wasn’t just that. The name Feynman had unleashed something inside him. He slammed ’round in a temper, sloshing water everywhere. The rug was already ruined so Turner bit his tongue. Turner had given Seth a new set of clothes and put his blood-soaked ones in a pile to be burned. Seth was suitably grateful for the gift of his blood, and Turner suggested a way Seth could repay him before he and Mason left Milford.

When Mason’s cell phone rang, they all stopped working to listen. Mason explained to Golding how Turner had been tricked by someone pretending to be him and finally gave Golding the name he’d sought for twenty years.

“Feynman,” Mason said.

Golding released a long sigh. “Will Turner testify about what Feynman asked him to do?”

Mason looked at Turner and he nodded.

“Yes,” Mason said.

“Let me speak to him.”

Mason gave Turner the phone.

“If Feynman contacts you, tell him everything that happened apart from the SBI’s involvement,” Golding said. “You’ve just handed him to me. Thank you.”

“I should tell you the books Gabriel took, they’re not exact copies. I thought if he came, I’d try to mislead him. I changed things. Gabriel will tie himself in knots trying to sort it out.”

Golding laughed. “I’ve just left him and Nick reading them.”

Turner handed the phone back and Mason switched it off.

“This room is as good as you’ll make it,” Mason told Turner. “Come on, Seth. I’ll drive you home before sunup. Catch, take the rest of the week off.”

“I’m not coming—”

Turner wrapped his arm around Catch’s throat and squeezed before he could finish. Turner wanted Catch to resign but not in the heat of the moment. They locked the door after the two had gone and Turner leaned back on it and sighed with relief. A sudden bang made him jump. He opened the door.

“At last,” said Diana Rolfe. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Oh, you’re both zombies. I thought you were a vampire?”

Turner gaped at her.

“Why did you only give my cake a four out of twenty?”

“Have you tasted it?” Turner asked.

“No, I’m on a diet.”

“Well, try it. It’s not good.” He started to close the door and she put out her hand.

“Do you have my knife?”

“Ah yes, I borrowed it.” Catch lifted the knife by the cloth from a side table and offered it to her.

Diana wrinkled her nose. “I hope you didn’t do anything disgusting with it.”

“A bit of pest control,” Catch said.

Turner slammed the door on her screech.

“We need to burn our clothes too,” Catch said, and stripped off.

Turner yanked his shirt over his head and unbuttoned his pants.

“It could have been worse,” Catch said. “There might have been something we couldn’t put right. If anything had happened…”

“I know.” Turner shuddered.

Catch tugged him into his arms and kissed him. A long, slow, deep kiss that spoke of their relief, their joy and their love. Catch’s cock grew and thickened next to Turner’s, trapped between their bodies.

Turner nibbled Catch’s lip and then pulled away. “Feynman.”

Catch stiffened.

“How do you know him?” Turner asked.

“A name from my past.”

Turner rubbed his forehead against Catch’s. “Did he hurt you?”

It was a moment before Catch spoke. “When I was a boy, he and a group of his pals liked to throw me to one another when they’d finished with me.”

“Oh shit. What—?”

“Think Matty’s in bed?” Catch asked.

Turner let it go. “Or still in the tub?”

Catch grinned. “Let’s go see.”

“Shower first.” Turner took hold of Catch’s outstretched hand.

For a moment, they didn’t move, the hand-holding gesture one neither of them had made before. Turner stared at their entwined fingers and something broke inside him. The awareness of how close they’d come to disaster had welled in his chest like an over-inflated balloon and popped.

“Oh God,” Turner whispered. “I could have lost—”

“It’s okay.” Catch lifted his hand and stroked his cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

Not yet, Turner thought, but it would be. They’d make it okay.

Catch tugged him up the stairs. “We’ll either join Matty in the tub or we’ll take a shower and join her in bed. Either way, we’ll fuck until dawn and we won’t think about tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow we have to do something about Matty.”

Catch grinned. “We’re doing something about her tonight.”

Turner had a nagging worry about her. Unlikely her uncle would try anything at this time of night, and Gabriel was not only busy with the books but under the eye of SBI agents. Still, Turner didn’t like the idea of her lying there unprotected.

Catch pushed open the bedroom door. Matty lay on her back on the bed, stark naked, arms flung over her head, knees bent to the side. Her eyes were closed. Turner’s mouth watered.

“She—” Turner started.

Catch pressed his lips to Turner’s, put his hand on his crotch and edged him across the carpet to the bathroom. Turner groaned, and when his lips parted, Catch sucked at his tongue. Turner was barely aware of being maneuvered into the shower, all he could think about was Catch’s warm body pressed against him. Catch’s tongue slid along his as every ridge and texture in Turner’s mouth came under scrutiny.

Along with the blood on his body, Turner needed to wash away the memory of tonight. He had no regrets about Dava but wished it had been him or Catch who’d killed her and not Matty. He wasn’t sure she’d taken in what happened. He hoped she hadn’t taken in the snarling monsters he and Catch became when they fought.

The water poured down and Catch dropped to his knees, sucking and biting a path up Turner’s thighs to his cock. When he pulled it down to suckle the tip, Turner came up on his toes and sank his fingers into his palms. Inch by inch, Catch took him deeper into his hot, wet mouth. Fast, short tugs at the head, then long, slow drags while Catch’s hand pumped in the opposite direction to the pull of his mouth. At the deepest point of penetration, Catch tightened his throat muscles around him and Turner groaned. The feeling, the sight and the sucking sound of Catch’s mouth swallowing his cock wound Turner to the point of blissful pain.

There were so many ways to do this and Catch seemed expert at every one of them. He laved the tiny slit at the tip of Turner’s cock, lapping up pre-cum, teasing more and more out of Turner until a scream grew ready to leap from his throat. Catch fluttered his tongue around the sensitive rim below the head, moving faster and faster until Turner had to yank down on his balls to stop himself from coming.

When Catch opened his mouth wide, took him down to the root and swallowed, Turner’s legs shook. Catch pulled back to take a breath, eased Turner’s fingers away from the stranglehold on his balls and sucked each digit into his mouth, tugging at each of them before he went back to licking the length of Turner’s cock. Everything he did drew Turner closer to ecstasy.

Turner stroked Catch’s head, trying not to pull at his hair. Hard to concentrate on anything other than the boiling need to come that raged in his belly. The pleasure on Catch’s face was as hot as the action of his mouth. His green eyes twinkled with mischief as he pushed a finger inside Turner’s anus. Catch homed in on the prostate and like a flipped switch, current surged and Turner exploded.

“Oh God.” Turner legs shook, his cock jerked and he sprayed jet after jet of cum into Catch’s mouth and over his face while he clung onto his head as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.

It probably was.

As the last spasm faded and his balls smugly sighed, Turner pulled Catch to his feet and kissed him. He licked Catch’s lips and then plunged his tongue deep into his mouth. When all hell had broken out in the drawing room, Turner had felt as though he’d come face-to-face with his demise. Every instinct told him to protect Matty, and yet he knew Catch was the one who needed him. Matty couldn’t be killed in this form, though she could be hurt. When he’d moved to help Catch, he’d felt as if he were betraying Matty. Loving two was going to be hard. They still had to find a way to make it possible.

When Turner walked into the bedroom, he’d wanted to throw himself next to Matty, but Catch had been right. They needed this shower, they needed the rough release before they held her. Turner slid to his knees and licked Catch’s cock, thrilling at the sensuous slide of hard flesh and bulging veins under his tongue. Catch tasted divine, the salty tang of pre-cum teasing Turner’s taste buds. When food was off the menu, the taste of another’s body was something to be treasured.

He lapped at the pre-cum balling at the crest of Catch’s cock before the water washed it away while he pumped faster and faster with his fist. Catch’s turn to tug at his hair, and Turner looked up over Catch’s heaving abs to meet green eyes heavy with lust.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Catch grunted.

Turner played the same games as Catch—licking, sucking, laving the velvet skin as it slid over the steel shaft. Catch’s hips bucked, he shoved his cock deeper, and Turner widened his mouth until his jaw ached and let Catch take control.

Catch’s need drove his.

Catch’s lust met his.

Turner’s cock thickened to match the one fucking his mouth. Veins throbbed against his tongue and the smooth, hard glide between his lips grew faster and hotter and wetter. Turner made no two movements the same while Catch panted and groaned above him. He swirled his tongue around the head, fast sucked then slow sipped while he squeezed and pumped and rubbed Catch toward oblivion.

Catch’s control snapped in a sudden jerk, and he sank his cock deep into Turner’s mouth as he came. Hot splashes of cum hit the back of Turner’s throat and he swallowed every drop while Catch shook and trembled.