CHAPTER THREE
Torin watched the young man enter and look around.
The masseur arrived first, which was unfortunate.
He checked his equipment and then nervously took a seat on the bench at the foot of the bed.
Massey was late, and he could see clearly that the man was considering leaving, but then Massey arrived and entered the room.
He acts dismissively and orders the young man to strip, but the masseur refuses.
Good for him, Torin thought. Massey is going to get forceful.
Torin figured he could wait until Massey tires himself out fucking the masseur and finish him after the young man leaves.
But he had no appetite for watching their sexual interlude.
He could only be asked to endure so much, and watching Massey being serviced would be a step beyond what he was willing to suffer.
He noticed the young masseur angling to get away and the way Massey was terrorizing him.
This wasn't going down easily, and the masseur looked scared.
He ran for the door, but one of Massey's men stopped him and dragged him back to the bed.
This was getting ugly, and the more he stared at that innocent face, panic-stricken and shaking, the more Torin had to fight to remain in the shadows.
This wasn't going to be consensual, so it was unlikely that the young man would survive. Massey had a reputation for disappearing anyone who could cause him trouble, and unhappy one-night stands never survived to see the morning.
Oh, shit, he's tying him to the bed. Fuck, Torin thought.
Torin is drawn to the pleading of the young man; it touches him, and that isn't right.
He stays focused; collateral damage is not his concern.
The young man cries out when Massey and his guard start to strip him.
The cries ring in his ears, and he can't stop himself.
He needs to stop himself; otherwise, the entire plan will be destroyed.
This stranger is not his responsibility; he can't save him. But Torin must save him.
The cries were driving him insane. He burst from the shadow, startling both Massey and his guard.
He plunged his knife into the guard's heart and then slit his throat.
He fell onto the bed on top of the crying young man.
Massey dove for the glass doors, but Torin stabbed him, sadly missing his kidneys, dropping him to the carpet.
The place came alive with alarms and movement, signaling that Massey had somehow set them off.
Torin quickly cut the ties on the young man's wrists and tossed him over his shoulder.
He couldn't leave him there, and he had no time for cleanup.
Torin was a Shadow Demon, and he could move fast, silently, and unseen, even with a crying human slung over his shoulder.
This hadn't gone as planned; in fact, he couldn't have fucked it up worse if he'd tried.
But he did not regret saving this pretty man.
Torin held him fast as he moved through space at an incredible speed.
It was probably for the best that the young man had passed out.
It was either the trauma of the events he witnessed, the attack he suffered, or being swept away, or a combination of all that had rendered him unconscious.
Torin loved his scent; he could breathe in that fresh lemon goodness all day long and be a happy man.
He was using a cabin in the hills south of the city.
It was vacant and perfect for his needs.
He put a glamour on the place to ward off any interest should there be a passerby.
He also cloaked it with a protection spell, just in case they got through the glamour, the added spell would make it difficult for anyone to continue beyond the edge of the property.
This was a good place, both hidden and relatively safe.
Whoever built it intended it to last forever. The logs were thick, and the structure seemed capable of withstanding a hurricane if necessary. The electricity had been disconnected ages ago, along with the water, but all it took was a little Demon magic to get things working again.
The place was a one-room affair, with the bed off to the left, the kitchen to the right, and the living room in the center.
It was perfect and practical for his needs, but now he hoped that his guest would find it comfortable as well.
Why the hell he brought this man home with him was a mystery, but every fiber of his being insisted that he save this man and keep him close.
Torin laid him on the bed and then cleaned him up.
He passed out during the fracas, which was probably for the best. The guard had bled out on top of him, and the white shirt and pants he was wearing were a total loss, as was everything else he was wearing.
Torin stripped him down and dressed him in some spare clothes he kept on hand.
The t-shirt and sweats were a bit large, but they were better than the alternative.
Torin had to try to keep his mind on the job at hand rather than the pure beauty and softness of the guy he was cleaning up.
His blonde hair hung in his eyes, and Torin ran his fingers through it, sweeping it back to one side.
He was a very handsome man, but the draw was more than just his beauty.
Torin didn't want to think about it, but the reality of his situation was starting to set in.
He covered the man with a thick blanket and took a seat on the couch in the living room that was only a few feet away from the bed.
He had a glass of whiskey and placed the bottle on the coffee table, certain that he would need a refill.
He then put in a call to his handler on this job, Killian Fray.
***
The conversation went as expected, with Torin giving the facts and Killian drafting a follow-up plan.
What he hadn't expected was the understanding that came with saving the young masseur.
Torin was clear now on just who the young man was.
After an internal investigation into his reactions to the man, Torin was now clear who the man was to him.
Whoever this man was in terms of a name, connections, and life in general, he was also, most importantly, Torin's beloved.
Killian picked up on it immediately and congratulated him on the incredible find, even in the midst of a failed mission.
"I'll handle the details surrounding your man's disappearance so no one goes looking for him, and I will get back with you on the situation regarding the final target.
" With that call ended, Torin looked over at the man lying motionless on the bed.
He couldn't help but smile at himself and the strange outcome of this assignment.
He hadn't noticed the scent of his beloved when he first entered the room.
Torin had been focused on the job, and all his attention was on Jarod Massey as he waited for the perfect opportunity to kill him.
The masseur had been alluring, but he hadn't taken the interest to be anything other than carnal.
The defining moment was when Massey and his guard attacked the young man, and he began to cry.
Those cries tore into Torin like a hot knife, and there was nothing that was going to stop him from easing the guy's pain.
Even then, he hadn't accepted the obvious.
It wasn't until he tossed the guy over his shoulder and his scent washed over him that understanding began to arrive.
He watched him, seeing the terror and pain that had filled his features fade away in sleep.
It was a rough night for the young masseur, but Fate would help to ease his trauma and bring him closer, emotionally and spiritually, to Torin.
It was an odd pairing, and Torin had no idea how they would relate or get along.
Their differences were startling, but Fate had her reasons, and destiny would not be denied, nor would Torin.
It was early morning, just after five, when he noticed him begin to stir. He groaned and thrashed and then shot up to a seated position and looked frantically around the room. Then his eyes landed on Torin, and he froze.
"Are you going to kill me?" He asked, fear coloring his tone, but weariness taking the upper hand.
"No," Torin responded, but did not elaborate.
“Where am I?”
“At a cabin in the woods.”
“Am I your prisoner?”
"I can't let you leave, but you are in no danger." Torin realized he needed to say more, for the young man was becoming distressed. "I'll explain it all when I can. For now, I need you to trust me as much as possible." A weak response, but accurate.
“You killed a man.”
“I did.”
"Okay, I don't want to know anything else on that score.
" He closed his eyes and then opened them as if hoping the scene before him would change.
Torin got up, brought him a cold bottle of water, and then took a seat on the chair next to the bed.
He watched him as he drank half the bottle of water, then set it aside and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What is your name?” Torin asks.
“Shae Callahan.”
"The masseur." Torin added, and Shae nodded slowly. Shae, it was a nice name. Torin decided he liked it.
"My name is Torin Kross, and I'm a hired assassin." Might as well stay with the truth, Shae would know everything sooner or later anyway.
"Oh, my God, for real?" He gasped and covered his mouth as his eyes went wide.
He soon thought better of the question, considering what he had witnessed.
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense considering.
" He trailed off there and dropped his hands to his lap and dropped his gaze from Torin to the blanket covering his lap.