Chapter Fifty-Seven
White Ravens
Gage
The elevator hadn’t even begun to descend, and Scar already had him pushed against the mirrored wall, arms tight around his waist.
“Hey,” Scar whispered, dragging his lips across Gage’s throat, up to his ear. “You’re my husband.”
“Yes, I am,” he answered softly.
Gage felt high. His body was still languid from days spent tangled in the sheets, exploring, learning, surrendering, and being sexed to exhaustion.
If this was what the world had been losing its mind over since the beginning of time, he understood now.
He wasn’t ashamed to be addicted to it.
Their mouths met with more passion. It didn’t take much to tip Gage over the edge, never did.
Scar pressed in harder and canted his hips as he slid his hands lower.
“Don’t start something you’re not willing to finish,” he warned with a teasing smile.
Scar huffed against his mouth. “You’re insatiable.”
“It’s your fault.”
They were still kissing when the elevator chimed.
Without breaking contact, Gage lifted his hand and slipped the elastic from Scar’s hair. The bun unraveled, and the thick, soft strands spilled down and over his shoulders.
“Dammit, Gage. I don’t want it down.”
“I do,” he fussed, combing his fingers through it. “Leave it.”
“No,” Scar growled. “Either it’s up, or I’m cutting it off.”
“You cut it,” Gage replied calmly, “and I’m cutting something else off.”
Scar scoffed. “You wouldn’t last one night.”
The elevator doors slid open.
“Gosh,” Scar’s assistant said dryly. “How do y’all sound like an old married couple already, and it hasn’t even been two weeks?”
They stepped off, their assistants falling into step at their sides.
Gage tilted his head.
It was quiet. Too quiet—no rushed footsteps, muffled conversations, automatic doors sliding open and close, or the humming of countless technical devices.
“Where is everyone?”
“Jo’s off-site for the week,” Mina answered. “A lot of staff took time off.”
“Where are the guys?” Scar asked.
“Browns’ quarters.”
Scar stopped short. “Oh shit. Is Grace cooking?”
“Yep. Cooking up a storm.”
Scar grabbed Gage’s hand and tugged. “Oh, I wonder if he’s making that bread pudding with the apples and cranberries—”
His hand was forcibly pulled from Scar’s grip.
“You’ll have to meet him up there,” Rose said firmly. “He has to get his labs drawn with Dr. Rockwell. No more stalling.”
“Oh, come on,” Scar argued. “It can wait one more day.”
“Actually, it can’t.” She tugged harder. “Scar, get a hold of yourself. You’ll survive without him for twenty minutes.”
Gage smiled as he was guided in the opposite direction.
Joshua leaned into his side. “Oh my gosh, Saint. He’s just standing there like a sad puppy, watching you walk away. What did you do to him?”
Gage could only smile wider.
He tapped his cane twice on his doctor’s office door and walked inside.
He stopped short at the slapping sound of skin meeting skin before he heard scrambling and hushed curses.
“Dammit, G,” Roz snapped. “Can’t you knock?”
“I did,” Gage chuckled. “Perhaps you didn’t hear it over—"
“Then you wait to be told to come in!”
“Ohhh, scandalous.” Gage teased. “Dr. Rockwell this not General Hospital, my goodness.”
Gage heard metal screeching over the floor and a drawer slamming.
“…and on the desk…you naughty girl.”
“Gage shut the fuck up!” Roz barked, while zipping his pants and fumbling with his belt.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I told you not in my office, Mateo,” Dr. Rockwell whispered frantically.
“I can still hear you.” Gage singed.
“Aliyah it’s okay. Gage can keep a secret. Right Gage?”
“Of course,” he exaggerated. “Trust me. I won’t tell anyone—”
“Please don’t,” she begged, sounding mortified.
“Umph, you didn’t let me finish. I’m not gonna’ tell anyone…unless they work in this building.”
He darted out of the door as Roz swore up a storm. Gage could still hear him yelling threats after he’d cleared the medical wing.
He reached the Browns’ floor and was quickly granted access. The elevator opened, and Mirage was there to meet him.
His brother laughed the moment he stepped off.
“What?”
“If you were a woman, I’d swear you were already pregnant, that’s what,” Mirage said. “You’re fuckin’ glowing, man.”
Gage knocked Mirage in his shin with his cane.
“So, how was it?”
Gage exhaled blissfully. “You’re asking me to describe the feeling of a prayer answered bigger than my faith dared to imagine. There are no words created to do that.”
Mirage snorted. “How poetic. You’re such a saint.”
Gage elbowed him in his side.
The doors opened and his senses were hit hard.
Grace and Mirage’s theater-screen television was blasting a baseball game and the sharp scent of gun oil came from someone cleaning their weapon.
Thuds repeatedly struck a corkboard. Knives were being thrown instead of darts. And laughter, curses, and arguments layered over it all.
Grace’s cooking drifted through the air, making his stomach rumble. Garlic, browning butter, roasted herbs, caramelized fruit, something sweet simmering.
A glass shattered.
“Ex, get the hell outta’ my kitchen,” Grace rumbled.
“I wanna help,” Ex damn near whined. “Just let me stir this right here.”
“No. Out.”
More laughter.
“We’re about to be a Raven short if someone doesn’t remove this incompetent from my kitchen.”
“Okay, okay,” Ex said. “I’ll just cut these up for you.”
A bowl clattered, and a bunch of hollow taps rolled across a hardwood floor.
“Goddammit, Ex. Do you know how rare and expensive those Roman grapes are? The ones that are now all over my floor?”
“Oh shit, my bad,” Ex mumbled. “I’ll wash’em.”
“Meridian,” Grace said flatly. “You can forget about the grape wine sauce for your chicken.”
A chair scraped and hard steps crossed the room before Gage heard Meridian dragging Ex away.
Everyone had their ways of unwinding between missions.
Zorion and Valor often went boating, camping, or to their cabin in a rural part of Virginia.
Mirage liked going to the local casinos or to magic shows.
Ex and Meridian had a getaway in the Aydos Forest near a small village in Istanbul, where the locals treated them like gods.
Grace cooked, and because he excelled at everything, the food he made was Michelin-star worthy.
He and Scar were going to have to figure out what they liked to do during downtime. Maybe try out some bigger amusement parks, like Universal Studios, or Six Flags.
“I think I better go calm my partner down before the vein in his neck explodes,” Mirage muttered, leaving his side.
The atmosphere settled him in a good way.
He’d grown up an only child. He never thought he’d know what it felt like to have brothers or a big family.
Now he did.
He tilted his head, pressing into the huge condo, letting it speak…searching it.
There you are.
He crossed the floor and dropped down onto Scar’s lap.
“I love it when you do that,” Scar said, pulling him close.
“How the hell do you do that?” Zorion asked from the direction of the cork board.
“Each of you are distinctive.” He shrugged. “If I’m not recognizing you by your voice, all of you have other tells.”
“Oh yeah?” Mirage challenged. “What’s mine?”
“Mirage, you breathe through your nose. There’s a very subtle wheeze to it because of your deviated septum, and since you’re never less than a foot from Grace, it’s easy to pinpoint him too.”
“Well damn.” Mirage gritted. “Thanks for telling everyone I have a deviated septum.”
“Opps,” Gage smirked.
“And me.”
“Valor, you’re outside so much, you always smell like nature.
You’re also the heaviest out of all of us, so I can hear you coming a mile away.
Zorion, your movements cut the air differently, you don’t step so much as place yourself.
And because you prefer the late hours, you always smell like the chill of night air. ”
He realized everyone had gone silent while he spoke.
“Interesting,” Ex said. “But I know I don’t have any tells.”
“Oh yes you do. They’re just more unique.” Gage thought about it before he said, “Ex, you have two auras. One when you’re alone, and one when you’re close to him.”
Someone swallowed roughly.
“When you’re away from Meridian, your aura frays at the edges. Your breaths are faster, closer together, as if your soul can’t settle.”
“Holy shit,” Ex sighed.
“When he’s with you”—Gage’s voice softened—“your pulse slows and your movements steadied. You also play and joke around more when he’s nearby, as if he just puts you in a good mood.
But even if I couldn’t feel your auras, you carry a very noticeable scent of heat and spice from his fancy cigarettes. ”
No one asked him to explain Meridian’s presence, but he knew they were waiting for him too.
“Meridian,” Gage said gently, his brows furrowing as he searched for the right words. “I feel pressure when you enter a room. Gravity. The closer you get, the heavier it becomes.”
Gage blinked, another feeling rising.
“Your darkness is like a dozen shadows gathered in one place. A coldness that settles over wherever you stand.” Gage smiled, turning toward where he felt Meridian on the other side of the room. “It’s frightening to some…but not me.”
The silence thickened before Meridian said calmly. “Good…will never fear evil, Saint.”
Ex cleared his throat.
“Damn, that’s fuckin’ deep as hell, babe,” Scar said. “Do me.”
Gage pressed his forehead to his husband’s and whispered, “You’re the easiest to find. My heart leans toward you…and I simply follow.”
“That’s some serious, insightful-ass shit right there,” Corvo said.
Gage turned toward the lead handler and sniffed.
“Corvo, for the love of everything holy, can you puhleeze find a cologne that wasn’t bottled a century ago. Stop using freakin’ Old Spice!” he yelled.
The guys cracked up, and it was just the kind of humor they needed to bring the mood back up to crazy.
“Time to eat,” Mirage called out twenty minutes later.
Gage let Scar lead him to the large dinner table.
After they all sat, he offered to say grace to bless the table, and no one objected.
As the many dishes began to circulate, he felt something else in his spirit.
Home.
“Guys!” He started right in, already laughing. “You won’t believe what I walked in on when I went to my doctor’s office.”