asked.
“Fine,” Stavros answered plainly.
“Fine? Elion, was it fine?”
Elion tried to read the look in the old man’s eyes, but found it impossible, and gave a simple nod instead. “Wonderful. You’ll be free of the bond before you know it then, won’t you?” He smiled almost teasingly before snapping his fingers and producing a thick file. His hand gestured in a lazy circle and Elion watched with fascination as a soft blue glow coated the inside of the room, one that he had only seen used by his own Elders when they wanted to ensure complete privacy.
“The Council requires your service,” Mikhail said.
Stavros straightened at that. He crossed the room and took the file, flipping it open and scanning the pages as Mikhail watched.
“I can leave tonight,” Stavros said without looking up.
“Can Elion be briefed by then?”
“Misha-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Stavros. I told you, this can only be broken by yourselves. You are partners. You need to act like it. Those are the facts of the matter. I expect you both to be able to handle assignments without killing each other over petty disagreements. Elion is a valuable asset that you are taking for granted.”
Elion tried not to smile smugly as the sorcerer pushed himself off the edge of the desk and faced his son. He had a solid inch or two over Stavros, but the way Stavros responded to Mikhail’s closeness made him seem smaller, almost childlike. His shoulders dropped ever so slightly, and if someone looked close enough, they could see the hardness in his features soften.
“Be safe,” Mikhail said in a soft fatherly tone. Stavros nodded, bowing his head for Mikhail to place a peck on his forehead. It was the kind of adorable that made Elion want to clutch his chest and sigh. Mikhail wished him the same before leaving the office without another word.
Elion didn’t even have a chance to blink before Stavros was glaring at him again. “Don’t you say a word.”
“About what? Nothing wrong with being a daddy’s boy,” he said with a genuine smile. Stavros bared a sharp fang in warning and Elion rolled his eyes. “It probably wouldn’t have hurt for him to cuddle you a little more,” he mumbled.
“Do you ever shut your mouth?”
“Do you ever stop being a dick?”
Stavros rubbed his temples, elongated fangs sank into his bottom lip. “This is un-fucking-believable.”
“If you’re done whining, I’d kinda like to know what we’re doing,” Elion sighed, kicking his feet up on his desk.
Stavros ground his teeth and threw the file on Elion’s lap. Elion could see how much effort it took for Stavros to not lose it again and he could hardly be enough of a bastard to continue taunting. Elion read over the large file carefully. It contained preliminary information about a string of robberies. There were large gaps in motives and suspects, but the incidents seemed to be escalating fairly quickly. He could feel Stavros pinning him with his eyes while he read and tried to ignore him. When he finally came to the last page, he grinned.
“You’ll love New York.”
Chapter 7
Normally, Stavros grabbed the bare essentials for a trip, got business handled, and came back. There were no reservations or suitcases. There was usually a bit of blood and always a successful mission, though. Of course, that was before Elion was thrown his way.
By the time they arrived at the hotel Stavros was ready to implode. Elion wouldn’t shut up about his wardrobe for hours before they even left; apparently it mattered what fucking shoes went with ones outfit in New York. Elion claimed they needed a cover; were they friends, lovers, or business partners? Stavros asked him why in oblivion they needed a hotel room and the pointed stare that Elion gave him was followed up by a rant about normal sleep habits and attempting to be less primitive.
Elion had packed like they were going on vacation for a few months and demanded that they went to eat at some
“Fine,” Stavros answered plainly.
“Fine? Elion, was it fine?”
Elion tried to read the look in the old man’s eyes, but found it impossible, and gave a simple nod instead. “Wonderful. You’ll be free of the bond before you know it then, won’t you?” He smiled almost teasingly before snapping his fingers and producing a thick file. His hand gestured in a lazy circle and Elion watched with fascination as a soft blue glow coated the inside of the room, one that he had only seen used by his own Elders when they wanted to ensure complete privacy.
“The Council requires your service,” Mikhail said.
Stavros straightened at that. He crossed the room and took the file, flipping it open and scanning the pages as Mikhail watched.
“I can leave tonight,” Stavros said without looking up.
“Can Elion be briefed by then?”
“Misha-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Stavros. I told you, this can only be broken by yourselves. You are partners. You need to act like it. Those are the facts of the matter. I expect you both to be able to handle assignments without killing each other over petty disagreements. Elion is a valuable asset that you are taking for granted.”
Elion tried not to smile smugly as the sorcerer pushed himself off the edge of the desk and faced his son. He had a solid inch or two over Stavros, but the way Stavros responded to Mikhail’s closeness made him seem smaller, almost childlike. His shoulders dropped ever so slightly, and if someone looked close enough, they could see the hardness in his features soften.
“Be safe,” Mikhail said in a soft fatherly tone. Stavros nodded, bowing his head for Mikhail to place a peck on his forehead. It was the kind of adorable that made Elion want to clutch his chest and sigh. Mikhail wished him the same before leaving the office without another word.
Elion didn’t even have a chance to blink before Stavros was glaring at him again. “Don’t you say a word.”
“About what? Nothing wrong with being a daddy’s boy,” he said with a genuine smile. Stavros bared a sharp fang in warning and Elion rolled his eyes. “It probably wouldn’t have hurt for him to cuddle you a little more,” he mumbled.
“Do you ever shut your mouth?”
“Do you ever stop being a dick?”
Stavros rubbed his temples, elongated fangs sank into his bottom lip. “This is un-fucking-believable.”
“If you’re done whining, I’d kinda like to know what we’re doing,” Elion sighed, kicking his feet up on his desk.
Stavros ground his teeth and threw the file on Elion’s lap. Elion could see how much effort it took for Stavros to not lose it again and he could hardly be enough of a bastard to continue taunting. Elion read over the large file carefully. It contained preliminary information about a string of robberies. There were large gaps in motives and suspects, but the incidents seemed to be escalating fairly quickly. He could feel Stavros pinning him with his eyes while he read and tried to ignore him. When he finally came to the last page, he grinned.
“You’ll love New York.”
Chapter 7
Normally, Stavros grabbed the bare essentials for a trip, got business handled, and came back. There were no reservations or suitcases. There was usually a bit of blood and always a successful mission, though. Of course, that was before Elion was thrown his way.
By the time they arrived at the hotel Stavros was ready to implode. Elion wouldn’t shut up about his wardrobe for hours before they even left; apparently it mattered what fucking shoes went with ones outfit in New York. Elion claimed they needed a cover; were they friends, lovers, or business partners? Stavros asked him why in oblivion they needed a hotel room and the pointed stare that Elion gave him was followed up by a rant about normal sleep habits and attempting to be less primitive.
Elion had packed like they were going on vacation for a few months and demanded that they went to eat at some
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