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  “Lucky me,” said Dane. “Won’t have to bother the Order with a mind-wipe.”

  “Unless you’re reporting me. It’ll get me to stop calling you.”

  “When you’re doing all my research for me?” Dane preferred to joke about it, but he didn’t like what John might do. He didn’t want to report Sean, didn’t want Sean’s mind wiped, didn’t want to deal with any of it. He wasn’t used to playing by the rules, and he didn’t want to stop. And the professor was growing on him.

  “I’m not going to ask. But I will hate you if you don’t give me a head’s up first.”

  “You won’t remember.” Dane didn’t want to think about things going back to the way they had been only a month ago. Sean would forget everything—not just Ned and the possessed pine trees, but Dane’s mouth around his cock, too, and that was a minor tragedy. “Learn anything else?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. Turns out she had a business rival.”

  Chapter 9

  Dane held the bottle out to him.

  “Not if you want me to drive,” said Sean.

  “Drive? Who said anything about driving?”

  Dane turned back to his desk and sat in the one chair, leaving Sean to stand in a room full of weapons. He took his messenger bag off and set it on the floor, laptop and all, as Dane pulled a tablet closer, scowling.

  “Why am I down here again?”

  “Because you talk too freely up there. Now shut up and let me finish my report to the Order.”

  Sean didn’t want to argue—it would either piss him off or turn him on, maybe both. Unfortunately, just being down here alone with Dane turned him on. Getting off in someone else’s house had been more erotic than he’d expected, and now the thought of having sex in a business where everyone was unknowingly sipping coffee upstairs brought that desire back. He’d liked what Dane had done to him the first time, pinning him in place by his clothes. Sean wanted to see more of Dane—his ass, his chest and the tattoos there. He wondered what it would take to get Dane to take his shirt off.

  “Will you stop moving around?” asked Dane. “I can’t hear myself think.”

  “If you had more than one chair—”

  “What, your ass can’t handle the floor?”

  “My ass can handle just about anything,” said Sean, lowering himself to the cold concrete. Dane was concerned enough about his damned report to completely ignore the comment and Sean held back a sigh. This was a wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon—on the floor of Dane’s weapon pit, and not in a fun way. He was less and less sure of what he was even doing here as the minutes ticked by.

  Weapons, coated in silver, glinted harshly around him. Dane had overhead lights on, but Sean could see enough candles lying around for the entire place to be lit with fire. In front of him a basin sat on the floor, filled with what looked like the last bits of Eliza’s bones.

  “When are you going to get around to burning these?” he asked, and Dane swore.

  “Just give me a moment. I’m trying to decide how much of the past week to mention. I got the nexus point moving, the possessed trees, what am I missing?”

  “Me,” said Sean coldly. Dane scoffed.

  “I’m not mentioning you until I’ve decided what to fucking do with you. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t want you to get your mind wiped. Well, unless they leave my number in your phone. How about that, professor? Is it a turn-on to think about not knowing how we got to be fuckbuddies?”

  “You could report Bethany’s murder.”

  Dane grabbed his bottle of whiskey and turned in his chair, grumbling.

  “What the hell, I’m not giving them the report until tomorrow. Don’t need to finish it yet.” He took a drink. “Tell me all about who gets her magical tea now that she’s kicked it.”

  Sean let out that sigh he’d been holding and glanced at Dane, but the man looked too good leaning back in his chair, drinking straight from the bottle. The kind of man people warned you about. But Sean was too old for warnings, too old to screw up his life much anymore. Young enough still to get caught up in something foolish, someone who’d no doubt break his heart. But he was at the point where he longed for anything other than the usual.

  So he let his eyes feast on Dane as he drank, and pretended like they were partners and the man wasn’t going to call in the Order to wipe Sean’s mind after all this was over.

  “All that was Bethany’s goes to her mother.”

  “Well, almost all of it. We’re going to have to burn her frickin’ house down.”

  “Why?” asked Sean, gaping, before it snapped into place. “All her magic-laced products.”

  “I’m not going to track down random bars of soap across three fucking counties. You can’t fucking do it. So we sterilize the area, stop it here. Don’t worry about the mommy. I’m sure there’s insurance.”

  “What about the stuff that’s already been sold?”

  Dane made a face and took another drink. Sean tried not to think about what all this meant. Regardless of insurance, this was going to be devastating for Bethany’s mother, especially if she hadn’t gotten any mementos out of the house before they burned it. Still, it was probably preferable to having to wipe so many minds, which Sean figured had to be painful, and to him was morally dubious at best. He doubted many people who used the product would even realize there was something different about it, but then from what Dane had said about the Order, they didn’t seem to be the kind of group that took chances.

  “You said nobody really noticed. They’re grieving and shit. Probably no harm.”

  Sean blinked at him. “Probably no harm,” sounded like Dane was really supposed to report these people to the Order, and Sean couldn’t tell if he had any decency or was just lazy.

  “Bethany’s best friend noticed tingling in her lip balm that seemed more than normal but she seemed to think Bethany’s new technique was overloading her product on oils,” said Sean. He’d been surprised at how easily her friends had talked to him when he contacted them—apparently people trusted professors, particularly ones paying their respects to a bright pupil who’d stood out in class years ago.

  “Great. Less work for us.” Dane set aside his bottle with a look of sadness and stood. “Want to get going?”

  “To do what?”

  “Burn the house, Professor of Clever. We don’t want her mother selling this shit everywhere. If it spreads too much and the Order finds out—”

  “Dane, it’s the middle of the day. I’d like less chance of being seen. And less chance we show up and her mother’s there. How would we handle that?”

  “I do a lot of thinking on my feet.”

  “You don’t seem to be doing much thinking at all. I don’t know how you got anyone to look the other way when it came to those pine trees, but I’m sure no one’s going to be able to ignore a whole damned house burning down. The fire department will show up, police, bystanders. Where are we supposed to park if we don’t want to get caught?”

  “We’ll do it at night then. Was hoping I wouldn’t have to look at your smug ass all day, but I’ll deal.”

  “Night has similar problems,” said Sean, wishing Dane didn’t want to get rid of him. “Easier to not be seen, but there still are going to be first responders.”

  “We’ll be fast.”

  Dane crossed his arms and frowned. Sean hauled himself off the floor, ass half numb. He wasn’t about to do anything that was going to get him arrested. He wasn’t that taken by Dane.

  “Have you ever burned a house before?” he asked, and Dane’s scowl found a different place to land, somewhere to the side of Sean. “So no.”

  “Look, this is how we handle it. Sometimes cleanup gets messy. If you don’t like it, you can walk.”

  Sean knew that meant more than just bowing out while Dane handled the arson. He was being told to get the hell out for good if he was going to refuse to go through with this, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like having to choose, and
he didn’t like being told what to do. Sean crossed the room to Dane, stood right up next to him so that their bodies were nearly touching.

  “And then what? You report me to your Order?”

  Dane tilted his head up slightly. Sean could smell the alcohol warm on his breath when he spoke.

  “Deserve it, wouldn’t you? I don’t need a mom. And if you’re going to let me down, you can get the hell out.”

  Sean leaned forward and kissed him. Dane tasted heavily of alcohol, of need. But the moment Sean slid his hands under Dane’s shirt Dane pushed him away. They stared at each other, Sean catching his breath. Shit, he did want to go back to where they’d fooled around. Even if it was stupid.

  “I’m not going to let you down,” he said. “I just want to be sensible about this.”

  “Yeah, you’re acting a lot like you just want to get laid. Look, professor, I’m not a good man. If you chase me, I’m going to drag you into some shit.”

  “Like arson. Got it,” said Sean, and Dane fell very quiet. “Shit—have you killed people?”

  “Not exactly,” said Dane, but moved on before Sean could press him on that. “So are you good with building barbeque, or should I be adding you to my report?”

  “I offer myself to you as your partner.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” said Dane, but some of the tension seemed to have left now. “I don’t do—”

  “Relationships,” said Sean. “I could tell. I think we’d better finish Eliza’s bones now. Give us something to do while we wait for night and you figure out how to keep me out of jail for arson.”

  Dane snorted and pulled out his phone.

  “Already got it,” he said, texting. “Giving the Order heads up on taking out a house. They’ll pull strings at the top, it’ll be an accident. We’ll park at the side of the road and walk there and back. Satisfied?”

  Sean stared at him. He could just send a text to the people he knew and get things done. The amount of power that was scared him. Sean had spent years working hard to build up what little influence he had at the college, and here was Dane, someone who could call upon people to wipe minds and influence the police department at will.

  For a moment, Sean thought it might be a better idea to walk. He could go back to his old life before he got in too deep. But it would mean giving up the first interesting thing that happened to him in the past two decades, and it would mean losing out on Dane.

  He was too old to do something like this, but he was going to do it anyway.

  Dane finished texting and collected up a few things to burn the bones with. He tossed some herb in the basin, then lit a match and dropped it in. They both stared at the flames for a while.

  “How long does this burn?”

  “Until she’s good and crisp,” said Dane. He scratched the back of his head. “Guess we could put the ashes back in the ground again. Not much else to do with them.”

  “And she’ll be gone for good then.”

  “Your ribs are safe,” said Dane. “Can’t promise you anything more than that if you’re not going to walk.”

  “You don’t have to,” said Sean. He didn’t care that he didn’t mean it.

  Dane smiled a little.

  Chapter 10

  Sean had said he’d drop by Crypt Coffee again, but Dane wanted to see where someone like him lived, so when they parted ways to grab a meal—Sean turned his nose up at another burger, which was fucking rich considering Dane hadn’t seen him refuse a pastry yet—Dane wolfed his fast food down and drove over. The professor’s house was not far from the college, smaller but not small, and very neat. The grass was trimmed, the landscaping looked professional, and the one-car garage implied Sean had determined at some point he’d be single forever.

  It was a nice home. A cozy home. On a safe street, in a safe area of town, with neat, smooth sidewalks and people wealthy enough to keep up appearances. It was disgustingly normal, and Dane hated himself for liking it even a little. Part of him wondered what it would be like to live somewhere for more than a couple years. Be stable.

  He’d hate having more than a taste of it, he was sure.

  Sean looked surprised when he opened the door. He had a dish towel slung over his shoulder like he’d been cleaning everything up when Dane rang the doorbell.

  “Some reason why you’re here?” he asked.

  Dane grinned. So he was uneasy Dane knew where he lived.

  “Finished eating. Figured we’d use my car—trunk’s already packed.”

  “I’ll be right out,” said Sean.

  He shut the door in Dane’s face, leaving him on the stoop to feel like a teen picking up his date. He scowled. Fuck that. He’d wait in the car.

  When Sean emerged and locked the door, he was wearing a plain grey hoodie and jeans, very dull and casual, which had to be the point. He got in the passenger side and Dane waited for him to buckle up before turning toward him. Dane had to give him one more chance. It seemed the decent thing to do.

  “Sure about this, professor? Once it’s burned, there’s no going back.”

  “Sean.”

  After several long seconds Dane realized that was the only response he was getting. He turned the car on and put it in reverse.

  “Sean,” he said, but he decided he’d still reserve the right to call him professor when he was really annoyed. “You got a last name?”

  “Sanderson.”

  Dane hit the brakes hard at the first stop sign.

  “You’re fucking joking.”

  “Don’t do that,” said Sean, putting his hands against the dash. He let them down when Dane turned. “And no. Does it mean something to you? Don’t tell me—a Sanderson killed your father.”

  “No, asshole. My name’s Dane Sanders.”

  Sean laughed so hard at that Dane glared at him.

  “You think I’m screwing with you?”

  “What are the odds?” asked Dane through gritted teeth.

  “Not good, but I have a decent number of students who’d absolutely tell me that’s a sign we’re meant to be.”

  “Keep talking like that and I’ll dump you out at the next stop,” said Dane.

  Sean shook his head and fell silent, but every time Dane glanced over at him he had an amused expression on his face. Dane only sped a little to Bethany’s house, found a nearby road to park on, and shut off the car. Sean got out and lingered a few feet away as Dane hauled out a bag and a couple flashlights.

  “You carrying?” The first words Sean had said in over half an hour sounded concerned.

  “What, you want the bag?” asked Dane, and grinned at the expression Sean shot him. “Yeah. Gun, couple of knives. You want something? I have a hunting knife I can give you.”

  Sean hesitated, then pulled up his hood and tucked his hands in the front pockets. He looked tempted for a moment, but in the end shook his head.

  “Let’s get this done without killing anyone,” he said, and led the way.

  Dane followed him down this road onto the next, and from there to Bethany’s driveway. Everything was more eerie in the night, which was to be expected, and no cars passed them, but Dane kept his senses on alert for dangers Sean hadn’t considered. Magic sources, particularly intense ones, often drew vicious, powerful creatures.

  “You move the plants inside, I’ll get it ready to go up,” said Dane.

  “I hate this. This is someone’s entire life we’re going to turn to ash. Because your Decrypter Order can’t stand that some people’s skin tingles after putting on some lotion.”

  Dane reached out and caught Sean’s arm, turned Sean to face him. He couldn’t have Sean fucking things up. This house had to be burned, and all the magic with it. The Order would eviscerate him if he let knowledge of magic go public, even in some shitty place like Bleu Falls. Even though he squeezed, Sean didn’t shake him off. Their eyes met.

  “I took you along because I trust you. Well, at least as much as I trust Ned, which is enough to not send either
of you back where you came from,” said Dane. Damn, he hated speeches and shit. He tried to get to the point. “You’re a smart guy, Sean. You can figure out all hell would break loose if everyone knew about magic. The fights over the sources, the struggle to stockpile better weapons. It’s not safe. You’d get everything from hellhound breeders to a fucking police state.”

  “Understood,” said Sean after an awkward few moments where Dane decided to let him go. “I don’t have to like it.”

  He stalked off around to the back of the house and Dane let him go. He didn’t have the time to hold his hand about this, anyway. The faster they were through with this, the better. He dropped his bag and pulled out accelerant, located the best places to splash it. The house was old, but the furniture inside new enough to go up immediately. Carpet only a few years old, lots of long curtains. Dane started on the outside and ended on the inside, making sure the magical plants were covered in a thoroughly-doused blanket. He wanted no chance any of Bethany’s plants or products survived.

  Sean followed him outside and he lit it up without hesitation. The flames sprang up like flicking on a light and the house turned into a searingly bright blur. Dane hefted up his bag, unable to move at first, until Sean’s hand brushing against the back of his tore him out of it. He glanced over, heart pounding, and heard the sound of an engine.

  “Shit, run,” he said, and took off toward the trees, Sean at his side. The professor was in shape enough to keep up, which was good because Dane would have no choice but to ask the Order to interfere if he was caught.

  They reached the trees as headlights tore down the driveway. The car stopped, the door slammed.

  “Fuck,” said Sean, and turned back to look.

  Dane peered out from the trees, too, seeing the outlines of two people staring at the house. When one rushed forward the other held them back. Dane saw the first collapse against the car and the second put a phone to their ear.

  “We can’t be this close. C’mon, Sean. We’ll have to walk back through the woods.”