“You bet on that?” Owen blinked in astonishment.
“Honey, I bet on everything. Besides, it’s those ‘I told you so’ moments that make life worth living.”
Chapter Ten
Ian’s calm acceptance seemed to thaw Owen’s stiffness. “You knew all along.”
“Not exactly. It’s one thing, living with pyros and kinetics. Then there’s Aidan, who’s an annoying mind reader. But you’re the first psychic assassin I’ve met.”
“Ah, could you keep that to yourself? Assassin is an ugly word.”
“Oh sure. Right. What do you prefer?” Something he’d heard mentioned, a long time ago, popped up to fit a missing piece in the puzzle of Owen Stallbridge. “Oh my God. It’s you. You’re the Fixer.” Fix the Fixer—Avery’s instructions via Keegan. “You’re a legend.” Or at least, he had been. But this trip with Caleb… “Are you still active?”
Owen looked uncomfortable, but to his credit, he didn’t pull away. “I haven’t done any contract work for a while. But Caleb needed something done.” His face turned stoic, and Ian tried to wipe the numbness away.
“Tell me.”
Owen sighed. “A very bad man, abusing children in ways no one should ever have to experience, was making a mess in South America. I took care of him. Except somehow, Kerr knew about it.” He frowned.
“Not good. So tell me how it works. Oh, and if you think I’d ever judge you for killing something like that, think again. Life isn’t black-and-white, Owen. I’m all about the gray.”
“Thank God.”
Owen kissed him again, and Ian remained pliant, not wanting Owen to feel in any way rejected or that Ian might be afraid of him.
“Is it wrong that I find you even sexier now?”
Owen laughed and pushed Ian onto his back. He moved on top of him, a bit awkwardly, what with his leg and a huge erection between them.
“I was worried you’d be afraid of me.”
“Do you plan to kill me?”
Owen’s mirth left him. “Never, little thief. You’re the safest person on the planet next to Heather.”
Ian felt a burst of joy. Being put on the same level of affection as Owen’s sister meant more than words could say.
“I found out about my power later in life,” Owen explained. “We knew Heather could heal. Mom and Dad had vestiges of talent. You would have liked my mom. She could spot a fraud from a mile away. No conning her on anything.”
“Nice.”
“My dad had a head for money. Guy could finagle a deal with eerie success. He really grew the business. I think I get some of that from him.”
“That’s a great talent to have.” Ian stared up at Owen, willing his lover to continue. Their closeness seemed to deepen, and he reveled in it, not wanting to think about tomorrows or endings but to hold this tight to his chest and never let go.
“Yeah. For years, I was just the ungifted, smart one.” Owen’s smile faded. “And then the Kerrs happened. Jacob had my parents killed, and I was pissed beyond reason. It turned something on in my brain, I think. I met with Jacob in private, told him I knew he’d done wrong. And when he couldn’t convince me to sell him back the company, he threatened Heather. I lost it. I grabbed him by the arm, and a huge surge of hate left me. Nailed him right in the heart.”
“You knew what you were doing?” Ian asked carefully, curious.
“No, but I can’t say I wasn’t happy about it.”
“I’d feel the same way.”
Owen rested on his forearms and lowered his mouth to Ian’s. The kiss didn’t last long enough.
“I left him twitching. No one saw me leave his office, since it had been late at night when we met. I went home and confessed what I’d done to Heather, and she cried. But she never told me I’d been wrong, and I love her for that. But the Kerrs knew. Henry and Carl pegged me for the death, though they could never prove it.”
“How do you do it?”
“At first, by touch.”
Owen wrapped his hand around Ian’s throat, to scare him? When Ian just lay there, Owen sighed.
“You really aren’t bothered by this at all, are you?”
“Should I be?” Ian figured if Owen meant to kill him, there wasn’t anything he could do about it, so why stress?
“No. Don’t ever be bothered by this.” Owen kissed him again, but this time he ground his cock against Ian’s belly. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
“Finish the story first.” Ian wanted everything.
“Fine. But I’m taking that ass in another minute or so.”
“Oh, we’re going to play. You can be sure of that.” Ian bucked up against him, aroused and not wanting to hide it.
“Shit. Fine. Quick version—I met with an old friend of my dad’s who was into some psychic research for the government. He paired me with Caleb, who’s a telepath and telekinetic. Double threat.”
“I really don’t like that guy,” Ian muttered with the jealousy he’d tried to ignore for the man entwined with Owen’s past renewed.
“Ian, Caleb is as straight as an arrow, trust me.”
Ian glared.
“Oh stop. He’s my spotter and a good friend, nothing more.”
“Spotter?”
“You know how snipers use a spotter to guide them to a target? Well, Caleb and I as a team expanded my range. At first, Caleb would have to be very close to tap into the target’s psyche. Then I connect with him and, through him, hit the mark. Thing is, when I fly down the tunnel, as I see it, I merge with the mark. I see what he or she is really like, and I know what I’m doing. I can pull back if need be, though it’s hard. That’s only happened once.” He frowned. “I will never take an innocent life. The men and women I’ve put down have done ugly, ugly things.”
“It stays with you.” Ian understood more about Owen’s gift. Not such a blessing after all.
“It does. I used to worry that I’d start to turn into them. The evil has a feel. Like a cloying sweetness, hiding the rot underneath. I hate it,” he growled. “And when I’m done, I’m weak. The blast of energy I shoot into them takes from me. The closer I am, the harder it is to remain separate.”
Ian nodded, stroking Owen’s strong arms. “With Linda, she was close. You had to touch her.”
Owen shook his head. “No. But she was close enough I reached her with no problem. That guy in Venezuela who just died. Caleb tapped into him. I was miles away when I arrowed into him. Fucking pedophile was into torture and blood sport, and those were his hobbies when he wasn’t selling meth and guns on the streets.”
“Shh. You did good, baby.” Ian ran his hands over Owen’s shoulders to his face. “Real good.”
“You going to reward me?” Owen asked in a thick voice.
“I am, but only because you came back in one piece.” The only fly in the ointment that Ian could tell—he didn’t like Owen’s ties to the government. He didn’t trust the bastards. They’d used him when it was convenient, then tried to wipe him off the planet. They could and probably would do the same to Owen.
“I don’t like the work anymore, not that I ever did. But some things are best left to others now. I only do the occasional favor for a personal friend of mine. Someone I’d trust with my life.”
Ian nodded slowly. “I guess. I just… Be careful with them, Owen.”
Owen’s expression eased. “Baby, I know what happened to you. You stumbled over the wrong conspiracy at the wrong time. But you did good, and you got out. You’re so smart, so sexy.” He paused. “It’s no wonder…” Owen leaned down to kiss him again.