Deep in Your Shadows Read online

  The hammer clanged to the floor as Ogden dropped it, walking backwards until he bumped into JT.

  “It answered,” JT said. “It fucking answered.”

  “Holy shit,” Nolan said. “Holy fucking shit.”

  “Something’s alive in there,” Christian said.

  JT lay a hand on Christian’s shoulder. “Ogden, what the hell do we do?”

  “I want to try something,” Nolan said. He looked at Ogden.

  Ogden nodded. “Okay, Nolan. Be careful.”

  Nolan walked to the corner of the room and picked up a large lead pipe. He carried it back to the craft, picked up his fallen chisel, then climbed up the support. He hit the craft hard once with the steel pipe, the sound heavy and lingering. Then he immediately slapped it with the chisel, a shorter, softer sound. Then he waited.

  “What are you doing, Nolan?” Elliot asked.

  Ogden chuckled. “He’s seeing if they know Morse code. Dots and dashes.”

  Elliot shook his head. “Even if it understands, it might not have the capability to express more than one sound right now.”

  “And even if it parrots the sound, doesn’t mean it understands it’s a form of code,” Wiley said.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Nolan hissed.

  They waited for a long time, Nolan still propped up on the support. The boathouse remained silent. Nolan sighed, shoulders sagging, then suddenly two sounds came from the craft, the familiar whoomph, then a shorter, sharper, whap.

  Nolan jerked back and nearly fell from the support, but steadied himself. Letting out a hard breath, he looked at Ogden.

  “Son of a bitch,” Ogden said. He pointed at Christian. “See that? That’s what I pay you all for.” Christian rolled his eyes and Ogden slapped his face, grinning. “Cheer up. It’s just getting good.” He looked at Nolan. “Are you up for this?”

  “Hell yes, sir.”

  “Okay,” Ogden said. “It’s worth a try. Ask what their intentions are.”

  “That’s a lot, might be confusing. How but just the word ‘intentions’?”

  Ogden nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Nolan braced himself, tossing the lead pipe up and catching it. “Okay. I need to concentrate so give me complete silence. Here we go.”

  Nolan spent time alternating the lead pipe and the chisel, a series of bangs and pauses. The rest of them stood waiting. Finally, Nolan stepped down off the supports, gleaming with sweat. “Notebook!” he shouted. “Someone get me a notebook and a pen, now!”

  Christian ran and fetched the items, scrambling through the messy work table, then ran over and handed Nolan a notepad and a marker pen.

  “Okay, everyone be fucking quiet,” Nolan said, and sat on the floor next to the craft.

  Five minutes passed in silence. They all grew anxious, pacing, sighing.

  Then it started with three short whap sounds. A pause. Then the sounds continued, varying between whoomph and whap as Nolan scribbled on the notepad.

  When the sounds eventually stopped, Nolan sat staring at the notebook. They all waited a time before speaking, not sure if the message was completed yet. Finally, Nolan climbed to his feet, swallowing hard as he turned to them.

  “What is it?” Ogden asked. “Was it a coherent message?”

  Nolan nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What does it say?”

  Nolan slowly walked toward them, his brow furrowed. He held up the notebook.

  Christian let out a breath. “Sanctuary.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Cuervo, come on. Get away from the door. I’m going to see Myles.”

  The black lab looked up at him from where she sidled up to the door, blocking his exit.

  “You remember Myles! Dark hair. Cute smile. Walks like he’s on a permanent ass-kicking mission?”

  Cuervo let out a soft groan and rested her head on her paws.

  Christian sighed, hands on his hips. “I don’t need this today. I went for a run in the woods with you. I played with your ball in the yard. You’ve got no cause to cock-block me.”

  Cuervo did this sometimes when she felt neglected. She got sad. Christian had been out of the house a lot lately. And he felt a bit sad tonight as well. Sad and confused about the message they’d gotten from the craft earlier.

  And it had been an arduous day thereafter. Ogden ordered Christian to close down the marina until further notice, ‘for renovations’ so he’d had to call all his customers and inform them, in case they wanted to move their boats. Many weren’t happy about it, but Christian wasn’t the one in control. He’d basically been kicked out of his own marina and forced to let Ogden and Wiley take over. After Nolan got the ‘sanctuary’ message, Ogden had contacted his superiors, and it was going to be all hands on deck. They’d be arriving soon in droves, loaded for bear with equipment and materials to try and build a containment apparatus in record time.

  Before whatever was in that craft died. If in fact the things in the craft were dying. He had no idea what their biological functions were. For all they knew, the things inside the craft could look like giant blobs of gelatin and not need to breathe.

  For Ogden, the decision was based on the prize at the bottom of the Cracker Jack box—capturing an extraterrestrial alive. For JT, Nolan, Elliot, and Christian, it was about rescue. Whether or not Baz was right about the nefarious nature and motives of the beings inside the craft, that message was a call for help. Whoever they were, they understood the language, Morse code even. They knew a lot more about humans than any of them expected, which was scary as shit. But they were living beings, in trouble, who’d asked for sanctuary. And Christian wasn’t assured that the Whites weren’t self-serving in asking their team to destroy the craft. It was easy in the Whites’ position to point a long creepy finger and say, ‘Those are the bad guys, not us.’

  What if the beings in the craft weren’t the bad guys? Would Christian, JT, and the others ever even find out? Would Ogden bother to find out before capturing those beings, if they were still alive by the time they moved the craft out of the perimeter and hoped it would open up?

  And none of them had heard from Baz since his last meeting with JT and Rudy. Perhaps Baz had stopped observing them all since Christian scolded him for it. Which left Christian more confused about what was happening. Did Baz, and through him, the Whites, know that Ogden’s crew were readying to move the craft? Would they intervene? And what were they so afraid would happen if they did intervene? They were obviously concerned about it, having handed the lowly humans a weapon to destroy the thing. But as JT had said, if the Whites didn’t want to fuck with these beings, why should Christian and the others be willing to do so?

  Either way, he had the night off. Ogden dismissed them all, and remained at the marina coordinating the project. Christian was glad. He needed time away from it all. And he was dying to see Myles. Picking up his phone, he called him.

  “Hello, Christian.”

  “Hello, Myles,” he said, imitating his stoic tone.

  Myles laughed softly. “Are you still coming over?”

  “I want to, but my dog is really sad. She’s blocking the door. Any way you can come over here instead?”

  “Oh. Well, I was just about to throw some steaks on the grill for us.”

  Christian smiled. “I figured we’d just order pizza. You’re making me dinner?”

  “I was.”

  “Can you bring the stuff over here? I have a grill.”

  “I think I can do that. You need anything else?”

  “Nope. Not unless you want something other than beer or martinis.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be there soon.”

  He hung up, and received a text from Elliot. ‘I’m at Nolan’s house. We can’t stop thinking about the things in the craft. How long do you think they have? Will they suffocate?’

  Christian wrote back. ‘How should I know? They’re fucking aliens. Try not to think about it. There’s nothing we can do right now.’

  ‘Can we
come over?’

  ‘No! I’m having a guest.’

  ‘You and JT are less fun since you started getting laid.’

  Christian laughed. ‘Lunch tomorrow unless Ogden needs us.’

  ‘You got it.’

  So he wasn’t the only one agonizing. But he forced it from his mind. He had a night off, and he wanted to hang out with Myles and eat, drink, talk, and have sex. He needed those simple pleasures right now.

  Myles showed up shortly after, and Christian had to pause when he opened the door and stare because he looked so damn good. In a soft black V-neck tee shirt that exposed a glimpse of the small brush of dark hair on his chest, Myles had a sunburn across his nose, tiny freckles visible, eyes luminous against the pinkish skin. He held a cooler in front of him, smirking at Christian. “You gonna let me in?”

  “Sorry, come in.” He stepped aside. “You got some sun.”

  “Yep.” Myles set the cooler down on the kitchen counter. “Had some business down by the lake today.” He unzipped the cooler. “Where’s your grill?”

  Christian walked over and grabbed Myles’ arm, tugging him close. “I’ll show you in a minute. Give me a proper greeting.”

  Myles smiled and wrapped his arms around Christian’s waist. “Hello.”

  For some reason Myles had Christian’s heart even more aflutter tonight than ever before, and his crush amped up a hundred degrees, wanting more than anything to claim this man as his own. “Kiss me.”

  Still smiling, Myles ran a thumb across Christian’s chin, then kissed him, softly but chastely.

  “That’s all I get?”

  “So greedy,” Myles said, but caught Christian’s face in his hands and kissed him deep, using tongue this time. His arms lowered and tightened around Christian’s waist.

  When they disengaged, Christian was hot and flushed.

  “That better?” Myles asked.

  “Much better.”

  “Good. Where’s your grill?”

  “It’s just outside the back door there. Go ahead, I’ll make us a drink.”

  “Okay.” Myles smiled back over his shoulder at Christian as he carried the cooler outside.

  Damn. That is one hot guy.

  Christian made them each a cold martini with three blue-cheese-stuffed olives, and carried them outside, setting them on the patio table. Myles was already at work, three big steaks sizzling on the grill as he poked at them with a long fork.

  “Holy shit.” Christian walked over. “That’s a lot of meat. You trying to get me to bulk up or something?”

  Myles set the fork down. “No, I like you the way you are. One’s for Cuervo.”

  “You...you brought a steak for my dog?”

  Myles shrugged. “You said she was sad.” He walked to the patio table and picked up one of the martinis, taking a sip. “Good martini, Christian.”

  Christian followed him over. “You brought a steak for my dog because she was sad. That is so fucking sweet, Myles, I love you!”

  As soon as those last three words left his mouth, Christian had an ‘oh shit’ moment. He hoped Myles would realize it was for emphasis and not some premature declaration, but to be certain he gave Myles a hard, fraternal slap on the back.

  Myles coughed, and an olive shot out of his mouth and rolled across the patio table.

  “Oh my God,” Christian said. “Did I do that? I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  Myles coughed twice more, then laughed, turning to Christian. “It’s all right. Just try not to slap me that hard when I’ve got an olive in my mouth.”

  Cuervo stepped out of the house and onto the deck, nostrils flaring as she looked up at the grill. She settled on the ground nearby, watching the meat cook. “I think she knows,” Christian said. “That one’s for her.”

  “I think she’d be out here regardless because it smells good,” Myles said, taking a seat at the table.

  Christian pulled out a chair and sat next to him. “So.” He grinned. “How was your day?”

  “Unremarkable. How was yours?”

  “The usual. You look good tonight.”

  “So do you.” Myles reached out and gently tugged the sleeve of Christian’s shirt. “I like this on you.”

  Christian had worn a tight white tee shirt with a smiling shark that read ‘Bite Me’ in black letters, mainly because JT once said it looked hot on him, so he figured it was a safe bet. “Thank you. Glad you like it.”

  Myles’ fingers traced a line down Christian’s bare arm, making him shiver. “Shows off your tattoos nicely.”

  “I need to ask you a question and you’re not going to like it,” Christian said.

  “Oh, damn,” Myles said. “Is this about your work?”

  “Kind of, yeah.”

  He shook his head. “I gave myself a pep talk before coming here. Determined I’d put all that aside and focus on...this. Us. Having fun.”

  “Do you want us to keep having fun?”

  Myles nodded. “I do.”

  “Then I need to ask if your personal and professional cell phone are one in the same.”

  “If I’m not at the station, yes. Why?”

  Christian blinked slowly, not wanting to proceed. But he felt strongly that their privacy, especially Myles’ privacy, should no longer be invaded. “I bought a couple burner phones for us. Would you be willing to use them to communicate with me?”

  “You’re joking.”

  Christian smiled. “Sorry. Wish I were.”

  “Are you trying to say someone’s monitoring my calls?”

  “I’m saying it’s a possibility.”

  “You know what?” Myles raised his hands. “Fine. Sure. Whatever will make you happy, Christian. But can we be done talking about your shady job for the rest of the night? To be honest, I’m still having trouble accepting it. But I’d like to try for you. So I’d like one night with you that feels like a normal...date.”

  “Of course we can. I want normal with you. More than anything.”

  Myles took a sip of his martini, then stood. “Let’s eat.”

  After dinner they cleaned up together in the kitchen. Sated on steak, Cuervo snoozed nearby. As Christian rinsed his hands in the sink, Myles came up behind him. He wrapped his arms around Christian and nuzzled the side of his neck.

  Christian shuddered, turning off the tap. “I think maybe you like me,” he said, leaning back into Myles.

  “Hmm. Maybe a little.”

  Christian closed his eyes, relishing the moment. Myles continued to hug him from behind, one hand drifting under Christian’s tee shirt and stroking up and down his belly. It went on for a long time, and Christian had no desire to move. “I can’t remember the last time someone just hugged me like this.”

  Myles nuzzled his ear. “Then you’ve been dating the wrong guys. You should be hugged and touched all the time.”

  Christian reached back, running his fingers through Myles’ hair. “I don’t date. Not really.”

  Myles turned him around so they faced each other. He rested his hands on the counter and leaned in close. “Are you dating me?”

  “I hope so.”

  Myles’ eyes flicked to Christian’s lips, then grew serious as he met his gaze. “We’re not just fucking, then?”

  “I’m worried.” Christian chuckled, sliding his arms over Myles’ shoulders. “That whichever answer I give to that might be the wrong one as far as you’re concerned.”

  “There’s only one right answer,” Myles said. He leaned his forehead against Christian’s, then barely above a whisper, said, “Christian. I’m starting to have feelings for you.”

  Christian sighed. “Then my honest answer is...it was never just fucking for me. Not with you.”

  Myles gathered Christian up in his arms and they kissed, slow and deep. Myles eased back long enough to peel Christian’s shirt off, then pulled him in again, attacking his mouth. His lips moved to Christian’s chin then made their way over his throat, and down, licking his chest.

&
nbsp; As Myles licked his way down Christian’s stomach, lowering himself to knees, Christian’s heart pounded. He leaned back against the counter. “This is a surprise. Not that I’m complaining. Don’t you want to go to the bedroom?”

  Unzipping Christian’s jeans, Myles smiled up at him. “Right now I want to live out a little fantasy.”

  “What fantasy is that?”

  Myles’ face nuzzled into Christian’s hip, fingers gripping the waist of his jeans in the back. “The fantasy of what I really wanted to do to you in your office when I helped you out of those leather pants.”

  With a quick jerk, Myles tugged Christian’s jeans down to his thighs. Christian gasped. “Oh. I like this fantasy. What did you really want to do to me?”

  “What does this tattoo mean?” Myles ran his fingers over the roses on Christian’s side, following the stems down to his thigh where they became a nest of snakeheads.

  “Ah...having trouble thinking right now, Myles.” Myles’ cheek brushed the side of Christian’s cock as his fingers stroked his thigh.

  “Just curious,” Myles said, licking one of the rose stems. “What’s it mean?”

  “It’s...the way things can look one way on the surface but be something else once you go down deep enough.”

  Myles’ eyes turned up, his hand sliding to Christian’s inner thigh, knuckles brushing his balls. “Are you the roses or the snakes?”

  “I’m both,” Christian said, his cock pulsing, needing to be touched. “We all are.”

  Myles’ licked a line up Christian’s shaft, making him grunt. “How deep do I have to go to get all of you, Christian?” He pressed his lips against the head of Christian’s cock.

  “Deep,” Christian said, eyelids fluttering.

  Myles took Christian in his mouth and sucked him to the back of his throat. Christian steadied himself against the counter. “Myles,” he whispered as his hips lurched. “I want to give you all of me. Want it so bad.”

  Myles’ mouth drew back, then sucked him in again. He gently grasped Christian’s hips and repeated the action, pulling Christian into his throat again and again until Christian was panting and struggling to stay upright. “This...oh shit...this was your fantasy?”