Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Nick woke up the next day to Prometheus begging next to him. He had a leash in his mouth, and his eyes glowed with flames, and he whined, tilting his head to the side, as pathetic as a demon could look.
Yawning, Nick managed to slide out of bed without waking Parker, who was breathing evenly beside him. As Nick put on his running gear, he watched Parker roll over and cling to Nick’s pillow, mouth falling open a little.
For a half second, Nick wanted to crawl back into bed and wake him, but then Prometheus whined again, and Nick knew he’d be gnawing on the granite countertops out of boredom by ten in the morning if he didn’t get some of his energy out.
Sugar was just arriving as he grabbed his keys off the entry table. She waved, covering a jaw-cracking yawn with her free hand.
“The cowboy was fun?” Nick teased.
“Boy was he ever. I got him to wear an actual saddle, and when I have a riding crop in my hand, let me tell you—”
“I need to actually get going,” Nick said quickly, bending to snap Prometheus’ leash on. “Rain check?”
Sugar made an agreeable noise, climbing the stairs, her stilettos in her free hand. “Okay, go do some worshipping to that temple you call a body.”
“I don’t think that’s how it goes…” Nick trailed off, smiling at her back.
Opening the door, Nick ushered Prometheus out in front of him and locked it behind them. The building they’d lived in before their battle with the Sun god was gone, but Parker had rented a new apartment in one of the fae trees that were becoming popular apartment destinations.
The magic involved in moving their door had been complicated, and he hadn’t understood half of it, but in the end, Lorraine had come in, declared it safe, and left them to it.
As he headed down the stairs, Prometheus pulled on his leash, dancing excitedly until they were on the street.
Then the demon-dog was off, and Nick laughed, catching up in a few strides.
The streets were dark, the sun barely cresting the horizon, and he could hear his own feet loud on the asphalt. Cars passed by him and the dog, only a few slowing when they caught sight of Prometheus’ glowing eyes.
Nick loved San Amaro in the morning.
Before Parker, San Amaro had always been one stop, one step on his path leading up to the position of chief of police.
He thought he’d start in San Amaro, head to the LAPD, then SFPD.
At some point, his good work would get noticed, and then he’d be in a stronger position to be appointed chief of police.
Some elbow grease, some politicking, then he’d be able to make larger, structural changes.
After Parker, though… Well, his husband was San Amaro. Even after the city changed, Parker was still someone who always knew a guy, who always knew the place that had the best sushi, who always knew where to find a black market bazaar.
But this San Amaro, the San Amaro at five in the morning, this one belonged to Nick. The streets were quiet, but businesses woke. He saw a group of succubae and incubae gathered together at the local donut shop, turning in unison to watch him hungrily as he jogged past.
The World Tree grew in the distance, ever present, no matter where you were in San Amaro. Sometimes during sunrise, you could see what looked like small creatures flying between the exposed branches. Nick had been close enough to know they were species never seen on Earth before.
Brock, who sold newspapers and cheap coffee to people getting on the bus to go to their jobs, waved at him and tossed a dog biscuit that Prometheus caught in midair.
Nick waved and cut left through a park where a group of women were practicing yoga under a massive tree.
Parker would know what kind of tree. He headed for the center of the park, and Prometheus tugged hard, dragging him over to a fountain, where the dog jumped up, his forepaws resting on the edge, tongue drinking heavily.
Steam rose from his face as the water doused some of the flames.
“That probably isn’t good for you,” Nick said, stretching his quads as he watched the dog. “I don’t think you’re supposed to drink that.”
Prometheus shoved his whole face into the water, tail wagging happily.
Another jogger passed them, a woman wearing earbuds and a warm smile. She circled around the large fountain and came close, grinning.
“I don’t think he’s supposed to do that,” she said.
“Yeah,” Nick sighed. “I’ve told him, but it hasn’t hurt him yet.”
And no dark prince had taken him to task for injuring his pet, so Nick counted that as a win.
“You know, I know someone who trains dogs if you want me to put you in touch with them.” The woman leaned forward and put her heel on the edge of the fountain, stretching as she spoke. “We could exchange numbers?”
“Oh, it’s, uh, he’s not that bad.” Nick tugged on Prometheus’ leash, and the dog resisted for a moment before pushing off, wagging his tail as he wound himself around Nick, effectively trapping him with the leash.
“No, it wouldn’t be a problem—” The woman stopped, staring.
The remaining water evaporated off Prometheus’ face, and his eyes lit brightly. His mouth fell open in a grin as Nick tried to untangle himself from the leash. Finally, he dropped the leash altogether, stepping out of the mess.
“Oh my god, don’t let him loose!” The woman took a few steps back.
Nick looked up, but she was already gone, and he sighed. “It’s okay, buddy. Let’s go home.”
Prometheus’ whole backside wiggled, and he practically dragged Nick back out of the park. The city was more awake, more cars, more pedestrians. Nick waved to the owner of the copy shop on the ground floor of their apartment building before heading upstairs.
The smell of breakfast greeted him, and Prometheus barely waited for him to take off the leash before bounding down the hall and skidding into the kitchen.
“Woah, buddy,” Parker said. He bent low and scratched behind Prometheus’ ears, and the dog leaned into the touch, falling on his side when Parker took away his hands.
Under the stove, a single paw reached out and swiped until Prometheus stood and moved to the other side of the kitchen, whining pathetically.
“Runt,” Parker said in warning. “I told you, there’s enough for everyone, okay?”
“I’m going to take a shower,” Nick said.
“Wait, wait.” Parker pulled Nick close, dragging him down for a kiss. “You know that whole sweaty, too hot for GQ thing does it for me.”
With a blush, Nick pulled back, heading upstairs. After a quick shower, he was still fixing his tie when he came into the kitchen. Parker had put out four plates of the bacon scramble he’d made. Holding one plate above Prometheus, he said, “Sit. Siiiiiit. Sit.”
“Prometheus. Sit,” Nick ordered.
The dog settled on his haunches. Parker shook his head. “It doesn’t count if you do it; the not-a-dog already listens to you. Now, Runt—”
But the demon cat had already hopped up on the island and was eating enthusiastically from her plate.
“No,” Parker said, pulling the plate away. Runt hissed but didn’t swipe at him, which Nick had to be grateful for. He wasn’t sure that Major Crimes would take pet-related hospitalization as an excuse for not showing up.
Parker put the plate on the ground next to Prometheus’ and shook his head.
“I swear no one in this house listens to me,” he said.
“It’s because you never mean it when you tell her no. She knows you’re a big ol’ teddy bear softie.” Nick pushed his tie over his shoulder and sat down, taking a bite of the eggs. “These are really good, Parker.”
“I’m a softie? Who bought Prometheus that expensive, organic dinosaur bone thing to chew on?” Parker said. “And you take him to the vet every time he sniffles.”
Nick coughed and then gestured to the massive cat house that Parker had set up in the unused dining room. He raised his eyebrows until Parker’s shoulders sank, and he muttered, “Well, she liked it for ten minutes.”
“Until the next delivery box came in,” Nick said.
But he couldn’t help but grin at Parker’s grumbled “And it took so long to set up! I bought Allen wrenches and everything.”
When his plate was cleaned, Nick stood and nodded toward the door. “Ready?”
“Ugh, are we sure? We can’t call out sick? Claim that we got eaten by a whale or something?” Parker moaned. “It’s just way too early to be interrogated.”
“Parker…” Nick said in warning.
“I know, I know.” Shaking his head, Parker followed Nick.
In the car, Nick called the attorney, and she went over Parker’s statement four times until she had all the details and was sure he understood what waiting for her to agree he should answer meant.
“It’s okay. I always wanted to be in a Law & Order episode,” he muttered. “Except, you know the only people with attorneys in those episodes are bad guys, right?”
“Bad guys who aren’t in jail,” Nick said. “I’ll take it.”
“I mean, a lot of times, they are in jail,” Parker said. “The show is big on cops pinning the guy to the wall. Did you want to practice that part?”
Nick groaned. “Tell me you’re going to let her do her job.”
“I’m going to let her do her job,” Parker said.
“And you’ll listen to her?” Nick asked.
“Yes,” Parker said like he was choosing his words precisely.
“And do what she says.” Nick narrowed his eyes, glancing at Parker before turning his gaze back to the road.
“Anddowhatshesays,” Parker muttered, slurring the words together.
They arrived at the station at the same time as the attorney, and Nick appreciated how prompt Robin Keating was. She walked with them inside, and when Detective McArdle escorted Parker into an interview room, Nick couldn’t help the frown on his face as he watched them disappear.
“Nicholas King, Paranormal Crimes?”
Nick turned, smiling automatically at the detective approaching him with two cups of coffee.
“Detective Murtola,” he introduced, offering over one of the cups. “Heard they’re interviewing your husband.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “I can’t watch, can I?”