Bad Seed Page 11

  “The fuck are you talking about?” Dane looked annoyed, and he reached for his vodka again.

  Sean sighed.

  “I’m saying if they knew you were around they probably wouldn’t have used cyanide, since you could potentially figure it out fast.”

  “Maybe they didn’t know I was here. I only just introduced myself.”

  And Sean as his possession. Sean hoped they didn’t have to see the witches again. He suspected he’d feel uncomfortable around Hazel.

  “Whatever the case, I think we need more information.”

  “Screw that.”

  “Don’t you need to inform your Order before taking action?” asked Sean, yawning. He glanced at his phone and saw it was later than he expected. If he wanted to be awake at all tomorrow, he’d have to leave.

  “Not if I act in self-defense.”

  “It’s not self-defense if you instigate, asshole,” said Sean, but he smiled at Dane affectionately as he stood. “I have to get going. I’ll drop by after I’m done with teaching tomorrow.”

  He leaned forward for a kiss but Dane pulled back.

  “None of that romance shit. Just get going.”

  Sean rolled his eyes, but left Dane down in his Lair. It was dark outside and he looked around anxiously as he walked to his car, wondering why he suddenly felt so skittish. Maybe it was that he did somewhat believe the Order could come after him, despite it not seeming real.

  He reflected on that as he drove. Really, none of this seemed real. He’d gone along with everything unquestioningly because of what he’d experienced—particularly the ghost-possessed tree, but also the werewolf he’d been researching ages ago now. Sean promised himself he’d get back to looking into it the moment he and Dane had handled Bethany’s death.

  No, he’d been through too much. He had to assume the Order was real, and even if he didn’t quite believe it, he had to act as though they could wipe his mind. That sank in for the first time, and he checked all his doors were locked twice that night. Tomorrow, he knew, he’d sleep better with Dane by his side. If they got any sleep at all.

  Friday was long, but Sean cancelled his office hours and went home early to change the sheets on the bed and buy Dane his own personal bottle of whiskey. He fully intended to be such a good host Dane would return without objection. With any luck he’d never have to set foot in that filthy apartment of Dane’s again.

  Winter was on shift when he walked into Crypt Coffee, so he ordered a Dead Gourd Dhai Latte and asked her how her semester was going.

  “All right, professor,” she said, shrugging. “I’m thinking about going into hematology now.”

  “Interesting,” said Sean, unsure how else to respond to the deadpan statement.

  “That’s blood.”

  “I’m not your boss, you don’t have to explain it to me.”

  Winter stared at him like he’d said something that was complete nonsense.

  “Dane knows what that is, too,” she said. “He’s very into blood.”

  Sean grimaced and started at a hand on his shoulder. It was, of course, Dane, with his grumpy yet flirtatious expression on, and he squeezed Sean’s shoulder almost too hard.

  “Come on, professor, let’s get you an apple streusel scone,” he said, and whatever snappy comment Sean had been about to give him died on his tongue. He took his latte from Winter.

  “That sounds delicious.”

  Sean sat at a bar stool at the only open table, a tall, glass-topped thing with a small human skeleton holding everything up. Dane slammed a plate down with a generously portioned scone and stood next to Sean rather than sitting, leaning in much too close to be professional.

  The first bite was bliss, and Sean was sorry to hear Dane’s voice again as he took a second.

  “Last time I saw that expression on you your clothes were off.”

  “Shut up,” hissed Sean, and reached for the latte. If he thought too much about sex with Dane he’d get hard again. “You find out anything else on the Cauldwells?”

  “I figured you had.”

  “Working.”

  “Like I haven’t been?” asked Dane. Sean sighed.

  “I’ll do an internet search.”

  A customer started arguing with Winter about an order and Dane stalked off to handle the situation, leaving Sean to enjoy his scone. Not only was it loaded with apples and oats, the streusel was drizzled with icing, and he decided he needed Dane around for more than the sex. Sean wanted to know what the man could do to waffles or crepes, and he’d only find that out if Dane spent the night more often.

  He took a drink of latte, reminding himself to focus. But despite digging around the internet for the next few hours, nothing interesting popped up. His ass was sore from the chair and he was getting annoyed. Dane had brought him a second scone at some point and while he appreciated the free food, he really just wanted to get out of the coffee shop. He had an idea of a meal for two he could cook and a growing desire to impress Dane. If that was something that was possible.

  “Hey,” said Dane, clapping him on the shoulder again. Sean jumped. “Got the peeper back down in the Lair. Want to interrogate him about the body?”

  Sean grabbed his laptop and followed, unsure he wanted to talk to Ned but knowing Dane was right. He’d been the only one to both interact with Bethany and have some sense of what was going on. He was leaned over the bowl of pine and bone ash, tracing patterns in it, when they descended.

  “You should really put this back in her grave,” he said, not looking up.

  “Yeah, when I get to it,” said Dane. “We got questions for you.”

  Ned flicked ash off his incorporeal fingers—Sean had no idea how it had been sticking to him, maybe static electricity—and sat back, leaning on his hands.

  “About?”

  “Becky.”

  “Bethany,” said Sean. “It’s not a difficult name.”

  Dane shrugged. Ned’s expression grew marginally more smug, as though he’d been waiting for this. Sean stifled his annoyance.

  “Specifically,” said Sean when Ned didn’t seem to be responding, “in relation to her murder. You were the first person to think it was murder. Apart from the seizure, why?”

  “We already know the seizure was from poison,” said Dane, crossing his arms.

  “Good for you,” said Ned. “Nothing else was odd but the circumstances. I’ve seen a lot of death. I know when it doesn’t look right.”

  Sean sighed and rubbed his forehead as Dane grumbled about fucking wastes of time.

  “What about the car? Anything stand out to you?”

  Sean hoped Ned had something, anything for them to go on. The ghost shrugged.

  “As I said initially, tubs of her products, all magically infused. It was unprofessional, in my opinion, but what do I know about lip balms and bath bombs?” He paused, stroked his chin like he was remembering. Sean didn’t want to ask how he was even able to have a memory. “Homemade air freshener, not magical, so it must have been old. One of those very ugly purses. And a bunch of her business cards had fallen out. Those weren’t ugly, actually very nicely done. I liked the aesthetic on the plant image.”

  “This is just fucking great,” said Dane.

  “Her car was remarkably clean, so this won’t take long,” said Ned. “No sea of fast-food wrappers to wade through.”

  Dane bristled at the slight but shut up.

  “Phone, of course.” Ned scrunched up his face. “Bag of workout gear. Oh, and a smoothie.” He paused, tilted his head like something had just occurred to him. “You know, that was magical, too. I didn’t think about it at the time—the entire car was so overwhelmingly tainted with it, and she was very confused. Wasn’t the sort who was expecting to die any time before her mid-nineties, what with her tailored lifestyle. Being alive is funny that way, isn’t it? You think you have so much control.”

  “Bet she would’ve had a drink now and then if she knew her days were numbered,” said Dane.
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br />   “Wait.” Sean pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the irreverence. “Back up. A magic smoothie? What was in it?”

  “Well, it was green,” said Ned, and shrugged. “With flecks.”

  “Shut up,” said Sean as Dane laughed. Sean shoved him but it did nothing to dampen Dane’s amusement. “You think it’s funny that’s probably the murder weapon? Bethany must have ingested the cyanide concentrate in her smoothie.”

  “I can’t tell you that,” said Ned. “But I can tell you the name on the side of the cup. It was from BigFroot Smoothies.”

  Chapter 18

  “Closed,” said Sean when he looked. “The place has hours this weekend, though.”

  “We’ll go to BigFroots and get you a health sludge tomorrow then,” said Dane, trying not to think about what might be in something like that. Not tequila, that was for sure. Health sludge was overrated.

  Sean sighed and pocketed his phone, then took a step forward and frowned into the bowl of ash. Ned had fucked off, probably to get away from more of Sean’s questions, and Dane couldn’t blame him.

  “Seriously? He drew boobs?”

  Dane laughed and left them there. Sean sighed again.

  “How old is he?”

  “A hundred, two hundred, I don’t know.”

  “You could look at the dates on his stone.”

  “The point is he’s funny,” said Dane, moving to his weapons wall to grab a few smaller items. He had gear at his own home, but nothing stashed away at Sean’s yet. Shit, he was thinking in yets.

  “And completely disrespectful. Those are someone’s ashes.” Sean paused. “Well, some of them are.”

  “She tried to kill you and you’re defending her de-souled cremains? Loosen up, professor. Besides, I figure if anyone has a right to toy with the dead it’s probably another dead person.”

  “I’m bringing your tablet,” said Sean, changing the subject. “In case we want to look anything up. BigFroot Smoothies sounds suspicious to me.”

  “Sure it does. You know we live in a place called Bleu Falls, right?”

  “It’s not suspicious, Dane. Weird, all right. Pretty sure it was originally called Blue Falls—nice, pretty waterfalls a little outside of town, we should go sometime, it’s romantic—but at some point the spelling was switched.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s cheesy now and therefore suspicious. And you can take any romantic ideas you have and shove them up your ass.”

  “I’d rather have you up my ass. You finished yet? I’m guessing this means you don’t want me to cook you food when we get to my place.”

  “I don’t do salads.” Dane considered bringing additional bullets, then put them back. What the hell was going to happen at the professor’s cute little house in a boring middle class neighborhood, anyway? He figured the worst that happened there was someone mowing their lawn too early in the morning or putting their garbage out a day ahead.

  “I was planning on chili, but we can pick you up a frozen burger from someplace on the way.”

  “Screw you, I eat chili,” said Dane. He hauled his duffle bag up and motioned Sean to the stairs. When he wasn’t around he kept his Lair locked; as he turned the key, Sean went out to his car.

  “Are you…?” asked Winter, and when Dane turned he saw she was eyeing his duffle bag. She blinked several times.

  “Going out?”

  “With the professor?” She mouthed the last word. “Overnight? Together?”

  “I’m not coming back, no. You know how to shut the place down?”

  “Yeah,” said Winter, but didn’t ask any more directly whether Dane and the professor were fucking. It was just as well—she was still pretty young and Dane figured thinking about her teachers having a sex life was a bit much.

  “Thanks,” he said instead, and left. Sean had pulled the car around when he got up to the parking lot and he threw his bag in the back seat before getting in.

  Sean’s home was just as cozy and comfortable as it had been the first time Dane had been there, and it unnerved him. It was so normal, so simply safe. And Dane found it difficult to trust things that felt secure. Still, it wasn’t bad to sit at one of the stools by the counter while Sean cooked—he’d been given a glass and his very own bottle of whiskey, and it was decent stuff.

  “That’s yours specifically,” said Sean as he chopped an onion. “Saw your brand down in the Lair and figured I’d have it here for you.”

  “Trying to seduce me?”

  “As long as you like that better than seeing it as a romantic gesture. I’m having wine with dinner.”

  “If it’s booze, I’ll drink it,” said Dane.

  “What’s the Order have to say about BigFroot?”

  Dane groaned. It figured Sean would make him do all the research while he cooked. Dane finished the contents of his glass before pulling out the tablet and searching. The kitchen began to smell good and his stomach growled. Sometimes even he had a weakness for a decent meal.

  “Nothing,” he said, glaring and pouring himself another. “The Order has the business and address here—they got everything in town—but the listing is just low priority.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Not a threat. Lowest, low, regular, high, higher, highest. Lowest means don’t bother to look into them, low means just take a peek now and then.” The rankings were fairly intuitive, with anything from high to highest being something Dane should really monitor. If he bothered to do what he was supposed to. So far he hadn’t had too much of a problem going with his gut on everything.

  “Website?”

  Dane swore but found BigFroot on social media. He read it all off to Sean, but none of it was interesting. All sorts of smoothies with all kinds of additives, from vitamins to protein to chia seeds. The place was owned by someone called Big Frank, but Dane couldn’t find a picture of him. The logo was gross, pink blobs he figured were supposed to be smoothie, splattered in the shape of footprints.

  “Still want that wine?”

  Dane grunted and set the table, ready to accept anything that would get him away from the tediousness of research. The thought of having to go and meet anyone named Big Frank—worse, possibly ingest a smoothie—filled him with irritation. But there was wine for that, and Sean’s chili wasn’t bad, even if it did have chicken in it rather than beef.

  They ate in silence, Dane enjoying the meal, admiring Sean when he could get away with it. He’d come to accept he wasn’t too picky when it came to partners, but he never imagined he’d go for anyone so old as Sean. He’d aged well, of course, and he wasn’t ancient yet or anything, but still—the contrast in their lives was sharp. Dane lived unpredictably; Sean had a house and tenure.

  Well, opposites fucked well, or whatever that saying was. And that was exactly what Dane intended to do after the meal. Fuck Sean well. Nothing too fancy, something like what he’d done before. It worked, and it had been a while. He hadn’t actually been with anyone else since Sean the last time, which was longer than he generally went.

  “You want to finish off the bottle?” asked Sean, standing. Dane pushed back his chair, too. “Or do you want to—”

  Dane crossed the distance between them and pressed his mouth to Sean’s. He liked the way the professor kissed, completely opposite from the way he was otherwise hesitant. Sean knew what he wanted; the wine bottle was returned to the table with a thunk, and Sean’s hands grabbed Dane’s ass.

  “I can leave it,” said Sean as Dane pulled him back toward the stairs. “Going to fuck me on the stairs like you promised?”

  If Dane hadn’t been completely hard already, he was now. The idea of Sean actually wanting that kind of rough fuck was more than appealing. Dane wasn’t about to withhold what he wanted.

  “I’ll be right back,” said Sean, pushing him away to dash up the stairs. Dane caught his breath, undid his jeans, and stroked himself a bit. When Sean returned, he stopped on the stairs, eyes fixed on Dane, cock out, enjoying himself.

/>   “Give me that,” said Dane, moving forward to grab the box of condoms. He pulled one out and shoved it at Sean, then took one for himself. He opened it, rolled it on, and glanced up to see Sean, pants down, kneeling on the stairs. His ass was leaking, pre-lubed, and he was drawing deep breaths as he stroked the condom onto himself.

  “I know I’m impatient,” said Sean, “but it’s been a while.”

  Dane moved forward, enticed by his ass, but didn’t touch.

  “On your back,” he said. Sean paused.

  “It’s carpeted here.”

  “I’m a bad boy,” said Dane, seeing Sean’s cock twitch in approval. “Want to test me or you want to just get on your fucking back?”

  Sean shifted to his back, groaned as Dane pressed him down into the stairs and leaned in to kiss him again. It was like yesterday in the Lair, only more private, and slightly less clothed. Dane’s jeans were crumpled at his feet and Sean’s pants had completely been removed. The kissing was intense, hard, Dane dragging Sean’s lips towards his own, Sean forcefully adding his tongue.

  Dane was definitely going to go off fast. His cock ached inside the condom and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He leaned up, pushed Sean’s legs back, and lined himself up. He drove in hard enough to push Sean into the stairs, indulging in the feel of Sean’s ass clenching him tightly, the expression on Sean’s face at the intense sensation.

  He pulled back, pushed in, as Sean braced himself with his hands rather than touch himself. Dane drew out his motions as best he could, giving Sean’s ass a steady beat, harder and harder. Close, he pulled out before he got too far, Sean gasping as his cock popped out.

  “Dane,” Sean managed to say before Dane dropped his head down and took Sean’s cock into his mouth.

  Sean came immediately, shuddering against the stairs, but Dane let up on him almost as soon as his orgasm started, leaving him to swear and grab for his cock. But now was when his ass was tightest, clenched in pleasure, and Dane wanted it. As Sean desperately finished stroking himself, Dane buried his cock in Sean’s ass again, and again, and as Sean howled he came, squeezing his eyes shut.