Nathaniel
THE FLIGHT BACK HOME truly wasn’t that long, but it felt like an eternity as I sat there, trying to come up with what excuse I’ll give the organization.
And as I land, making my way to where my bike is parked at the airport parking garage, I get a call from Calum, leaving me no more room to scheme.
“Hey,” I answer, pressing the phone to my ear as I pass the cars lined up at the arrivals gate.
“Nate, man, how’d it go?” Calum asks.
“You can’t wait for the report? I’ll have it in by tonight.”
“I’m curious, man. This is the first time you’ve asked to personally take care of a target, other than when you first started with us, and you took care of your—”
“I get it,” I interrupt, taking the stairs to the top level of the garage. “Basically, I didn’t finish the job.”
Calum is silent for a moment, clearly shocked, before he huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “Sorry, what?”
“Yeah.” I sigh, holding the phone with my shoulder as I come up to my bike, making sure the straps of my backpack are secure and unlocking my helmet. “I tried to give him the B109, and he destroyed both drinks.”
“This is why I say we should find a different way to administer the sedative. A target can easily avoid taking it,” Calum complains, and I roll my eyes, switching the call to my Bluetooth as I get on my bike.
“What’s done is done,” I tell him.
“Should I send someone else out? It’ll soften the blow when the council finds out. They’ll probably come to see you tonight on their fancy little jet when they hear the news.”
He’s not wrong. Falling like this is not a part of the normal routine, and the council is very involved with the repressors they employ.
But the idea of someone else touching Landon? Of knocking him down a peg and teaching him the much-needed lesson he needs to experience? Fuck. No.
“No, don’t,” I say. “I’ll handle the council. Tell them I’ll have the report in tonight, and if they insist on meeting with me, I’ll be home.”
Calum sighs, taking a long moment before he says, “Is everything okay, Nate?”
Pulling out onto the main road, I debate how to answer his question. Everything is not alright, and I’m not sure why.
“Everything’s fine. I just need to go back and gather more information; that’s all. Listen, I’m driving. Talk later.” My tone is dismissive, but Calum doesn’t mind, only saying his departing words and ending the call.
The probability that the council shows up tonight is high, and I need to figure out how to explain myself.
But every time I try to focus, my mind returns to Landon. To how his glares make my heart beat faster, and how hot his mouth felt locked around my cock. And mostly, it returns to that brief flash of misery I saw in those green eyes.
It’s odd to me because whenever he speaks about Julian, the man who broke his heart, there is only anger. I can sense his rage, his discontentment. But there is never a trace of sadness in those eyes when he hears me mention the attendee. Why is that?
I want to dig inside Landon Presley and learn all of his secrets. I want to understand him.
I park my bike by the delivery room, next to where Jeremy Walsh’s truck should be, before I make my way into the kitchen. The temporary cook that Master Abraham hired is puttering around, readying for lunch, so I dismiss him.
He’s kind enough, but if I’m honest, I don’t even know his name. So, as he leaves, I pick up right where he left off without walking him to the door.
“Barfred,” Oscar calls, walking into the kitchen as I finish putting the salmon in the oven.
“What can I do for you, Oscar?” I turn to face him, taking in his grim expression. “What happened?”
“It’s Julian and Young Master Atlas,” he starts, his sad eyes meeting mine. “It turns out our Young Master divulged his curse to Julian.”
“What?” I all but gasp, staring at him with wide, startled eyes.
That… that is fucking crazy.
“It gets worse,” Oscar says glumly. “Julian tried, uh, helping him. And consequently, they fell asleep in bed together.”
“Oh, no.” It comes out as a whisper, anticipating the worst.
I knew our Young Master Atlas and Julian had to have been fooling around, simply due to how they stared at each other. But this? This is far more than I ever expected.
“The demon came, and it hurt Julian pretty badly. Luckily, the Young Master came to get help, and we were able to help him, but he and Jeremy have been let go for their own safety. And ours.” As the explanation ends, Oscar takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s consoling himself.
“That’s horrible,” I push out. I can’t even imagine the fear those boys felt or how painful this situation is.
Actually… isn’t Landon the same age as Julian? Is it considered weird for me to be thirty-four and getting my cock sucked by someone in their early twenties?
Well, he didn’t seem bothered by it. And there’s the glaring fact that it will never happen again.
If I had been here, if I had accepted this job as a live-in position, would I have noticed Julian sneaking into the west tower? Could I have prevented it?
There’s no use debating it now; the past is the past. Plus, I’m not the heroic type.
“Keep an eye out; don’t allow Julian on the premises if he shows up. I’ll be delivering their belongings today,” Oscar instructs, and I nod dutifully, returning to my salad prep as he leaves the kitchen.
I feel bad for Julian, yes, but also feel a bit… no, spiteful isn’t the right word. It’s almost similar to resentment, or maybe anger? All I know is that every time I think of Julian Walsh, something negative and maddening grows just a bit more inside of me.
I wonder what that’s about.
As I pull up to the small cottage I reside in, only a few miles from Chastain Castle, I spot the sleek black SUV in the driveway.
The council is here. I’m sure they’re already inside—Council Member Ryan has a unique ability when it comes to lock picking. Plus, the back door is always unlocked.
I park my bike and head inside, already preparing myself for the onslaught of questions I’ll receive. As the front door pushes open, I spot three of the suits immediately.
Ryan is standing at the kitchen counter to my immediate right, and Cecilia and Boston are sitting on the couch, their eyes falling onto me the moment I step in.
As for where Council Member Joseph is, I am unsure. But he’s here somewhere; he’s always present for these types of conversations.
“Council,” I greet, giving them a nod of acknowledgement.
“Repressor Nathaniel Barfred,” Cecilia calls out, uncrossing and recrossing her legs from where she sits.
They’re all dressed in the same form-fitting black suit, with the title Watchers sewn into their blazers. The organization’s name is rarely actually used, as most people are unaware of its existence.
But EP, which stands for extermination and protection, has been around for a very long time. It’s the organization that keeps criminal power users from harming the general public.
I’m one of the few charged with stopping them by repressing their abilities.
“We have questions about your recent mission,” Ceilia continues.
“Ask away,” I urge, dropping my bag onto the kitchen counter next to where Ryan stands.
“Can you explain as to why you failed such a simple task?” Boston asks, straightening his tie from where he sits.
“Simple?” I repeat. “When is taking out a target ever simple?”
“It was a twenty-two-year-old boy,” he counters. “You’ve taken entire families out at once.”
My family, he means.
“He destroyed the B109 I had; there was nothing I could do,” I answer simply.
“He destroyed it?” Ryan pushes.
“Yes. He knocked one glass out of my hand and threw the other.”
“This is why we tell you to force-feed the target,” Ceilia rants. “Mixing it into a drink isn’t wise.”
“He was a fighter,” I offer, shrugging.
That, and every time I had him pinned down, the last thing I was thinking of was forcing that vial of liquid down his throat.
Something else, though…
“Stronger than you?” she asks.
Again, I shrug.
Listen, it’s not that I dislike the council necessarily; I’m just not into being talked down to. Being lectured. How about they leave their little circle jerk and do the damn job themselves?
Well, maybe not this job.
“I’m beginning to question your competence—”
“Leave the poor man alone,” Joseph interrupts, coming from the bathroom as he wipes his hands on a small towel. “He knows the target’s friend, don’t you, Nathaniel?”
I’m not surprised he knows this—again, the council is very involved. It’s one of the reasons they’re called watchers. But it does make me uncomfortable.
“What are you implying?” I ask, my spine straightening as he walks to the center of the room, staring back at me with a small smirk.
“I’m only asking if maybe this matter is too personal for you. Maybe we should send out a different repressor.”
“No,” I interject, far too quickly. All eyes settle on me, and I feel hot all over. “I started this; I’ll be the one to finish it.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best route,” Boston says, his eyes narrowing on me.
“I’m willing to let you see it through,” Joseph offers, his smile causing something sharp to prick at my skin.
“Joseph, are you certain this is the best move?” Ceilia questions, and she looks shocked by his declaration.
“I am,” he replies coolly. “Because Repressor Nathaniel knows what will become of that boy if he fails.”
The hot feeling that was spreading through my body immediately cools, replaced by something that aches and overruns my insides with frostbite.
I take one careful step forward, my breath leaving me in a stuttered release. “What does that mean?”
Ryan picks at his nails, unbothered by my intensity as he says, “I believe you know, Nathaniel. It means we will take care of it. And you know that won’t be nearly as pleasant for him.”
“Not that you would care, right?” Boston adds, his lips lifting into a smirk.
My eyes flicker between the different council members. If I’m being honest, nothing they’re saying or doing right now is any different than every other time I’ve encountered them. They’re notorious throughout all of EP for being selfish, overly confident, and sort of cruel.
It’s in their job description. Everyone around me has to contain some semblance of a negative streak, considering we hunt down people constantly. Even if it is good-intentioned, no one who is truly kind would stomach this lifestyle.
But right now? As they all but threaten Landon right in front of me? I don’t like it. The territorial part of me is screaming that he’s mine to destroy and dismantle. I would make it…gentle for him. The council? He’d be in a world of pain.
“I understand,” I finally murmur, ignoring Boston’s jab.
“Good,” Joseph exclaims, clasping his hands together. “Now, shall we go?”
Murmured agreements go up around me; Ceilia eyes my home in disgust.
I need them to leave. Between the news of what happened at the castle while I was away, what happened with Landon just last night, and this? Yeah, I’m not feeling too hot.
“Remember, Nathaniel,” Ryan adds as they begin to file out the front door. “We are watching.”
Of fucking course they are.
The door slams shut, leaving me in silence as I stare at the polished wood.
I have to do something. As in, I need to repress Landon’s power of coercion before they get their hands on him.
It is simultaneously the best and worst thing I can do for him. And for a singular moment, I find myself concerned with his feelings about all of this.
I am really not feeling too hot.