Bargaining with the Devil: A Death and the Devil Novella Page 2

  Jack gaped. When Ethan had first proposed this mad idea, Jack had had a few moments of doubt, mostly to do with the Office inevitably finding out he and Ethan were still in contact—intimate contact. But he had Director Tan’s verbal agreement to “keep Blade happy” to fall back on, and Ethan had said himself that he didn’t care about the Office knowing. So why the fuck was it suddenly over? What had happened to make Ethan change his goddamned mind? Had Jack just imagined all his talk about trust and safety?

  Christ! Maybe this was for the best . . . No. This wasn’t going to happen. At least it wouldn’t happen without a decent explanation. Jack just had to stay calm and rational.

  “What the hell?” Jack demanded. So much for that decision. “You seemed pretty well entrenched last night.” To the point of falling asleep right on top of Jack.

  Ethan didn’t go as still as he often did when confronted with opposition to his plans. Instead he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his pants. With his shoulders slightly hunched he looked more defensive than hostile.

  “That was last night,” he said. “I’ve since changed my mind. I’d like to leave. There’s a travel window I can take advantage of if I go now.”

  Jack realised then what disturbed him about everything Ethan had said so far. The intention to leave for good was aggravating and frustrating, but not exactly disturbing. No, what was bothering Jack was that Ethan hadn’t said his name. Not once since Jack had walked in. Right from the start, Ethan had been relentless in using Jack’s name. It had been mildly unsettling at first, but when Jack had learned just what Ethan was doing in the desert, it had become clearer. Dehumanising someone by not giving them a name, by referring to them as a number or code, made it easier to do whatever nasty thing needed doing. In order to convince Jack he wasn’t a target, Ethan had used his name and somewhere along the way, it had stuck. Its absence now was telling. Ethan was looking for emotional distance, which meant he wasn’t totally convinced leaving was the right thing to do.

  Jack modulated his next words a bit more successfully than he had before. “I’d prefer it if you stayed. We don’t have to fuck or anything. But you said you could stay two nights, so please stay. We can talk about why you changed your mind.”

  Ethan did go still then, but only for a moment, breaking it when he took a deep breath and looked away. “And I’d rather just leave.”

  Retreating to the door, Jack leaned on it, crossed his arms, and settled in for a fight. “Unless you want to smash out through a window, you’re not going anywhere.” They both knew Ethan could get past Jack without raising a sweat. It wouldn’t be the first time Ethan had pulled a gun on Jack, and if he fired . . . well, that wouldn’t be a first, either.

  “That won’t stop me,” Ethan said grimly.

  Jack grinned. “Slow you down, though. Come on, Ethan. Tell me.”

  “I don’t have to tell—”

  “You said you owed me a face-to-face goodbye, so I think that means you owe me a face-to-face reason. What’s changed?”

  “I misspoke. I don’t owe—”

  “Do I need to list the reasons why you wanted this? One, mutual attraction, and unless I grew a ginormous wart overnight, I think that’s still legit. Two, for making you laugh, which you did in the shower when I made you a shampoo beard. Three, for arguing with you, example this discussion right now. Four, the mind-blowing sex. You’re a control freak and need me to drive you out of your head so you can relax, and you were pretty fucking relaxed last—”

  “Jack.”

  It was low and lethal sounding and would make most others duck for cover, but Jack had to stop himself from fist-pumping in victory. His name. At last.

  “Yes, Ethan?” he said evenly.

  A grinding ten seconds of silence, then Ethan let out a frustrated grunt. It wasn’t often he showed even a hint of losing control, outside of bed, and usually it wasn’t something to cheer about, yet Jack took it as another little victory. Turning on his heel, Ethan stalked over to the balcony. Back to Jack, he stood to the side of the glass sliding door and looked out over the sparkling Sydney skyline.

  Jack took the time to think back on what Ethan had said, how he’d reacted, and came to a disappointing conclusion.

  “Is it the sex? Was it something I did?” He bit back a “you didn’t say no.” No one liked hearing that when they’d changed their mind for whatever reason.

  “No.” It was a bit too fast for Jack to credit it, but Ethan added, “Not exactly,” in a resigned tone.

  Stomach swirling uneasily, Jack closed a bit of the distance between them. This would probably go better with lowered voices. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing. I mean that, Jack. It’s not you.”

  Fuck. The whole it’s-not-you-it’s-me routine? Jack really wouldn’t have thought it a line Ethan ever had to trot out before. According to him, his past sexual experiences had usually ended when his target—not necessarily the person he’d slept with—was eliminated. Ethan wouldn’t have needed a convenient excuse to leave. So, perhaps he honestly meant it.

  “Tell me,” Jack prompted.

  Ethan ducked his head and said softly, “I won’t fellate you, Jack.”

  It took a moment to register and Jack had to get confirmation. “Pardon?”

  Letting out a sharp breath, Ethan said in a clear voice, “I don’t like performing fellatio. It has never been something I was comfortable with. Everything else is fine, but that . . . I’m sorry, Jack, but I won’t and as such, I feel you shouldn’t fellate me, either. It’s unfair.”

  Jack digested that. “Okay. That’s fine. Some men don’t like doing it. I’m not going to insist or bother you about it. It’s your choice. But is that reason enough to leave?”

  “No. It’s something I worried about, though. Before I decided to end this.”

  Crap. They hadn’t even got to the big issue yet.

  Jack ran a hand over his face. “Just to be clear about this. I love giving blowjobs, and I know you like getting them. So, when we clear up this other thing and get back to the original arrangement, I’ll keep blowing you, you’ll keep going crazy when I do, and neither of us will care that it doesn’t happen the other way around. Trust me, you do plenty of other things to make me incredibly happy.”

  Ethan turned and, surprisingly, slipped off his glasses so he could look at Jack with his pale, unchanging eyes. “Truly?”

  It would have been nice to touch him, to pull him close and show him how true it was, but despite the lowering of the shades, Ethan held himself stiff. No touching allowed.

  “Stick around and find out for yourself.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up and vanished as soon as it had appeared. “It’s good to know that, Jack, but it won’t change my mind. This isn’t going to work. I can’t be here with you. I don’t feel . . .”

  It was like pulling hens’ teeth. “Don’t feel what?”

  “Secure.” Now it was out, the tension eased from Ethan’s shoulders and the dam busted. “When I woke up this morning and you weren’t here, I felt vulnerable. This isn’t one of my safe places, Jack. You have very rudimentary locks on your doors and windows. It wouldn’t even stop a determined novice. Then there’s the Office.”

  “None of that bothered you before.” Even as he said it, Jack knew where the difference was.

  “I didn’t fall asleep last time,” Ethan snapped. “I didn’t feel so comfortable then, or like I belonged here. Or so happy to simply lie there with you that nothing else mattered.” He bit off the last word with a sharp clack of teeth as if realising what he’d said, or how plaintive he sounded.

  Jack had never been so thrilled and annoyed at the same time. Despite the delivery, Ethan’s words of being comfortable and happy with him sent delighted shivers through his belly. But annoyed because his head reverted to thinking maybe Ethan was right and they should forget about their arrangement. Jack didn’t want to. God, he really didn’t want to, but reasonably there was a poin
t where a good orgasm wasn’t worth the trouble of getting it.

  He opened his mouth to say as much but closed it before he could.

  It wasn’t just the sex. That was part of it, a great part, but a lot of it was the man standing in front of him. This puzzling creature who’d wormed his way past Jack’s defences with an odd mix of cold-blooded ruthlessness and innocence; who’d done his best to break Jack down, then done all he could to rescue him. A man with compulsions born of a traumatic childhood, scars from a life of violence and cruelty, with such a soft spot for animals that he was willing to let a wild dingo attack him. Someone who, once he was on a path, wouldn’t deviate from it. Someone who broke his own rules because Jack refused to follow them.

  Getting to know that man was worth it.

  “Stay there.” Jack pointed firmly at the spot Ethan stood. “Don’t move.”

  Jack went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. While it boiled, he got out a mug and teabag, and then a beer. Ethan drank beer and wine, but Jack knew when he needed to settle down, it was tea. Once the tea was made, Jack motioned him over to the table. They sat opposite each other, their drinks on coasters which looked like various pistols. They’d been a happy-getting-into-the-SAS gift from his old infantry CO. Jack wondered if Ethan had anything like them. Not coasters, but gifts with enough sentimental meaning they lasted through several moves, a career change, and moments you were so furious with the organisation that chewed you up and spat you out that you could think only of destroying everything it had ever given you.

  “Tea okay?” he asked instead.

  “It’s drinkable.”

  Jack smiled, which made Ethan’s lips curl up just a bit as well.

  “Well, what are we going to do about this?”

  Ethan sighed. “I don’t think there is anything we can do, Jack. Our lives simply aren’t compatible.”

  Jack took a sip of beer. “Our work lives, sure. But we’re not working together anymore, so that’s a non-issue.”

  “No. It is the issue. Director Tan might want to keep me agreeable to working with the Office for his own reasons, but that isn’t going to help me if someone else from your work has already killed me because I was here with you, asleep and unable to defend either of us.”

  Putting aside the argument he could defend himself and Ethan, Jack agreed. Nothing he’d done this morning had woken Ethan. He could easily imagine someone getting into his apartment and having no trouble shooting Ethan when he was like that.

  “Okay, let’s look at the other part of it,” Jack offered. “What security measures would you add to this place to help you feel safer?”

  Tea halfway to his mouth, Ethan stalled for a moment. Then he lowered it to the table. “You would do that for me?”

  “Sure. I never worried before because the only sensitive stuff here is in my head, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another lock on the door.”

  “I’m not talking about another lock, Jack. I mean surveillance on the front door and pressure mats at the windows and balcony. Motion-based sensors in every room. A tap into any electronic security systems this building has.”

  “The Office will install—”

  “Not the Office. If they install it, they’ll control it.”

  “True. So, do you have an associate who can do all that?”

  Ethan shook his head. “I can do it. I’ve done it myself in all of my safe places. But that won’t be enough, Jack.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Finishing his beer, Jack thought for a moment. “Look, stay tonight. I won’t tire you out in bed. In fact, I’ll banish you to the couch. Give me tomorrow to see what I can do about the Office, then we’ll see where we are. Yes?”

  Ethan swirled his tea around the mug for a moment. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Jack stood and held out his hand for Ethan’s mug.

  When he held it up, Ethan didn’t let go, keeping Jack from moving away. “Jack, thank you for understanding.”

  “No problem.” Safely at the sink, back to Ethan, Jack let out a relieved sigh. Ethan wasn’t going anywhere just yet.

  A pair of strong arms slid around his waist from behind and Ethan’s weight leaned on him. “Jack?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We could still shag. I’ll just be careful not to fall asleep after. If you wished.”

  Jack smirked. “Do I get to suck your dick again?”

  Ethan pressed his face into Jack’s shoulder blade, probably to hide his blush. “If you so desire.”

  Jack desired. Very much. But all he said was, “We’ll see.”

  As promised, Ethan didn’t fall into a death-like sleep that night. When Jack awoke in the morning, Ethan watched him prepare his liquid breakfast while outlining the security measures he’d spent the night devising. Leaving Ethan to measure and plan, Jack went to work. A few discreet enquiries and a couple of hours looking through some archives gave Jack what he needed, and he made a time to meet with Tan after lunch.

  Alex Tan listened silently while Jack laid out several cases with precedence for what he was proposing and took care to remind the director how they would still have a traitor in their midst without Ethan Blade; how if someone else in the Office decided to go after him, Tan’s word would mean nothing when Blade came looking for revenge.

  The not-so-subtle threat slid off Tan like water from a duck’s back. He made a show of looking over the printed files Jack had, though it was more a stalling tactic than a need to see the information. Tan had probably known this was coming from the moment Jack had agreed to keep Blade happy.

  “This is all very thorough, Mr. Reardon. Well done on presenting your case.”

  “Thank you,” Jack said.

  “Of course, any agreement we might come to wouldn’t cover any overt criminal actions made by Mr. Blade within the Meta-State.”

  Nicely ambiguous, leaving Tan the room to decide just what it meant in any given situation. Jack had expected it.

  “Of course, sir. I wouldn’t want it to, but if you wish to keep him onside, this is necessary. He needs a firm statement he won’t be tracked, detained, or targeted by the Office while he’s in the country. Otherwise you will have no chance at ever convincing him to work for you.”

  Tan picked up the rough draft statement Jack had presented him with. It covered everything Jack could think of and a few more outlandish points he was willing to lose to keep the core requirements.

  “Give me an hour,” Tan eventually said. “Come back then and we’ll make this official.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jack gathered up his research and left. The statement would be heavily doctored by the time he got back, but it was promising.

  Walking down the hallway towards his apartment that evening, Jack was joined by his elderly neighbour, Rocco Cesare, and his tan dachshund, Short Round, as they came back from their daily walk.

  “Good evening, Nishant.” Mr. Cesare smiled at him. “Good day at work?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jack generally went by Nishant, his Hindi middle name, with casual acquaintances. It matched his Indian heritage, satisfied preconceived racial ideals, and stopped most questions about his origins. “Very good day at work.” His jacket pocket held the evidence.

  Short Round scrambled at Jack’s leg and while Mr. Cesare admonished him lightly, Jack crouched and gave the little dog a thorough scratching. “He’s a good boy.”

  “A good watchdog, too. Let me know you had a man at your place today.”

  Jack didn’t hide his sexuality. He didn’t advertise it, either, but he wouldn’t hide any man he happened to bring home. His surprise came from the fact Ethan had been seen.

  “Nice young chap,” his neighbour continued. “Installing your security system. He even popped into my place and gave me some advice. I was ready to hire him then and there, but he said he was booked out for the conceivable future.”

  Concentrating on rubbing Shorty’s head so his ears flapped wildly, Jack swallowed a laugh. Trust Ethan.

  Mr. Cesare chuckle
d. “I thought he would steal Shorty at one point. Could barely separate them.”

  Done with the affection, Shorty broke away from Jack, pelted up the hallway on his stubby legs and sniffed at the bottom of the door to his home. Done, he looked back at his human and barked once.

  “All clear,” the old man said, and the two men walked the rest of the way together.

  Jack made sure Mr. Cesare and Shorty got in okay, then went the last distance to his door. He found a small camera with a fisheye lens mounted over his door, aimed down the hallway. Knowing Ethan wouldn’t be that obvious, Jack ran his fingers across the top of the door frame and down the sides. He found a second micro-camera on the left side, at head height.

  He was about to unlock the door when it opened for him.

  “Come in,” Ethan said.

  Jack obeyed. The door was shut, and a rather long number chain entered into a newly installed keypad. Ethan began explaining it all immediately, dragging Jack through the entire apartment as he pointed out all the new systems.

  “That was fast,” Jack said when he could get a word in edgeways.

  His flow interrupted, Ethan looked a bit lost, then chuckled. “It doesn’t take long to set up, once you know what you’re doing and where the vulnerable points are. Most homes are depressingly easy . . . Sorry, I think I’m just excited to be doing something useful for you.”

  “Yeah?” Jack leered. “I can think of a few other useful things—Hey!” He jumped aside before Ethan could poke his ribs again.

  “You’re lucky I also wrote down the instructions on how to arm and disarm it all. I suspected you wouldn’t listen to me. Promise me you will burn it when you’ve committed it to memory.”

  “I listen, and I promise.”

  Ethan snorted and headed back to the living room.

  Jack followed, digging the folded paper from his pocket. “This might make you like me again.” He handed it over and went to get a drink.

  When Jack returned with his bottle of water, Ethan was standing where he’d left him, the paper unfolded, though he wasn’t looking at it anymore. The black lenses of his glasses were fixed on Jack.