Chapter 4
Chapter Four
A laric
There were only three doors in the hallway of the top floor of the apartment building—all spaced far apart. Ezra Forsberg was clearly living in style. Which made sense considering his family’s wealth. Alaric reached the door, hefted his satchel to one hand, and rang the bell. He’d already shown his credentials to the porter at the front desk, so Ezra knew he was coming.
The door opened slowly, and Alaric had to work not to show his surprise.
It wasn’t the myriad of colorful bruises marring porcelain skin, no. It was his face. Ezra was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, with wide-set brown eyes framed by softly rounded cheeks. His upper lip jutted out in a sexy reverse pout, though his bottom lip was split and swollen. Those dark brown eyes looked him over with obvious interest, though there was something kind of sly about his expression. His hair was silky black, short on the sides and longer on top, so strands fell half over one eye. He was tall, nearly six feet, and slim. Very slim.
“You Alaric Denman?” Ezra’s gaze slid over the black headband Alaric wore to cover his pointed ears.
He wasn’t sure why Xavier had insisted he wear it, along with the contacts that masked his bright purple eyes. He normally used a glamour to hide those two things that set him apart from humans. But Xavier knew what he was doing. Even if, as usual, he didn’t feel the need to elaborate on his request. His employer was cryptic like that.
When Alaric didn’t reply at once, Ezra’s swollen lips twisted in a caricature of a smile. “Or are you just another assassin trying to eighties me to death?”
Alaric would have lobbed some snark in reply, but his nerves were too jangled by the wounds he could sense and smell healing on Ezra’s body. Xavier had told him Ezra had been worked over, nearly killed, and from the looks of him, he was lucky people had noticed what was going on and stepped in. A lot of his aches ran bone deep.
He took refuge in professionalism. “Yes, I’m with Protective Solutions.” He held out his hand to shake Ezra’s, but the man was already moving back from the door. He was cradling his side, hunched over. The distance helped Alaric regain his equilibrium. “You can sit back down and rest while we go over what you need from me.” He set his bag down, then shut and locked the door behind him.
Ezra shuffled to his couch and gingerly settled into the cushions. “What’s to go over? Someone is trying to kill me, and I hired you to keep that from happening. Simple.”
The snide tone set Alaric’s teeth on edge. “To do that, I need to know a few things. Like what your normal day looks like. I have the information you gave Xavier, but I’d like to find out more.”
Ezra stared at him for several seconds, his gaze sliding over Alaric’s body briefly before he came back to Alaric’s face. “Look, I plan to do nothing but lie here until it doesn’t hurt to breathe. We’ll worry about work after that.”
“Got it.” Alaric moved to stand to the side of the door. This man obviously wasn’t a conversationalist. Also, he was an asshole. Though being in pain made people touchy, so Alaric took that into account. Still, ignoring Ezra’s pain went against his very elf nature so the farther he stood from him, the better.
Ezra was quiet for a few moments before he curled his lip again. “What, you’re just going to stand there like some kind of sentry?”
“Will it bother you if I do?”
Ezra shrugged, then winced. “Do what you want. It’s not like I can go anywhere yet.”
“Do you know who did this to you?”
“No idea. It could be anyone, though my money is on my ex-husband. He’s a real shit gibbon.” Ezra slowly shifted and winced. “Can’t wait until that divorce is final.” The tip of his tongue came out to touch his swollen lip.
Alaric had trouble resisting the urge to heal him. Like, a lot of trouble. He didn’t know this human at all, didn’t really like him so far, but seeing him in pain pulled at his heart.
But he couldn’t explain how he could heal any more than he could explain his pointed ears or his purple eyes. Like it or not, he had to just put up with feeling Ezra’s pain across the room.
He looked at Ezra to find those dark brown eyes narrowed at his head.
“What’s with the headband? You planning to work out soon?”
“Fashion statement.”
“It’s not 1980, so I’m not sure what you’re trying to say. But just so you know, if it’s to hide the ears, it’s not doing its job.”
Utter shock made Alaric freeze. “What do you mean?”
“The headband shifted, Sherlock. I can see a pointed ear. Are you an elf?”
Alaric blinked at Ezra. He knew one other human, Clive, who had been able to see through glamours, but he hadn’t known that anyone else could. “What are you talking about?”
Ezra languidly waved one hand. “You’re a preternatural. That’s what you call yourselves, right? One of your kind worked in my house growing up, and she told me all about this hidden world when she realized I could see her tail. So you can lose the headband. It looks ridiculous.”
Well, this changed things. Another human who could see past his glamour. That was new. He should call Xavier right away—but his boss was the one who’d insisted on the headband and contacts. So he already knew. Knew and hadn’t told Alaric, which pissed him off.
He yanked the headband off and stuffed it into his pocket.
“You look a lot better without it. So, elf? I’m assuming, because I’ve seen different creatures with pointed ears over the years, but some of those didn’t blend nearly as well as you do.”
Alaric glared. “Creatures? I thought you said you knew we preferred the term preternaturals.”
“Creatures is some kind of insult?”
“Not to all, but to some, yes.”
“Is it to you?”
“Not particularly.” A lot of them did look like creatures, so the term had never bothered him, but for some reason it sounded like more of an insult coming from this guy’s mouth.
Ezra snorted.
He was such an ass. Too bad he was so beautiful he drew Alaric’s gaze. But it was easy to figure him out. Spoiled rich kid. Narcissistic. The kind of person Alaric could hold no respect for. Which was good. He’d have no trouble keeping things silent and professional despite his fascination with Ezra’s face. And body. His slim, elegant form would look fantastic in a suit. Alaric had always been partial to a slender, suited man.
“As for who beat me up, it was a couple of hired guys.” Ezra picked up a notepad off the coffee table. “I did make a list of people who could have it out for me. Problem is, my father was just murdered, so that list could be bigger if I knew who his enemies were. I grabbed some of my father’s paperwork—he was old fashioned that way—and plan to go through it when my head isn’t aching so badly.” He scowled. “I’m going to figure out who this is and confront them myself. As my father always said, Forsbergs never sit back and let things happen. They make their destiny. He may have been the worst sort of jerk, but some of the things he said stuck.”
Xavier had filled Alaric in on just what kind of family he was dealing with. It was an ongoing investigation, but so far, Xavier hadn’t found anything that proved the two sons of Elijah Forsberg were involved in their father’s crime empire. The man had been taken out by an assassin in his home, the funeral just days before. Ezra being beaten nearly to death around the same time didn’t feel like a coincidence.
Alaric looked around the room, taking in how very sparsely Ezra lived. He had a beige couch with one matching chair and ottoman. A television and, surprisingly, a stereo that looked vintage. One wall had bookcases filled with CDs and vinyl records, so it was obvious where Ezra’s interests lay. Other than that, the walls were bare. No paintings or prints. No photos. Just the furniture clustered together in the center of the massive room.
There was one very sad fern on the coffee table that needed TLC something fierce. When Ezra went to bed, Alaric would work on healing it—though slowly so he didn’t alert Ezra. But there was no way Alaric could ignore it like he was forcing himself to ignore the urge to heal Ezra. Ezra might know he’s an elf, but something held him back from showing the extent of his powers. The strength of that need was confusing. He studied the man closely. There was something…different about him. Something intriguing, despite the bad attitude.
And ass or not, Ezra’s pain did something to Alaric. Something that completely unsettled him. He was used to feeling protective over clients—that was his job. This was somehow…more. Like he wouldn’t be able to rest until all of Ezra’s pain was gone.
What the hell?
But no matter how hard it was to resist healing him, something told him to wait, especially since he’d been having so much trouble with the draining of his power lately. So he settled against the wall as Ezra turned the volume up on the movie he’d paused. Alaric would watch him. Stay aloof and professional. Try to figure this out. The need to heal, the need to wait, and of course the biggest unanswered question of all.
Why could Ezra see past his glamour?