Chaos and Communion

Chapter 1The nightmares didn’t just come when he slept. Nobody ever told Jesse about the sort of nightmares that could hit you in the middle of the day, in the middle of some task. Everything would be normal and then he would be stuck in a small, windowless room, his arms stretched above his head, his skin broken and bleeding. These moments weren’t just particularly vivid memories. He was there. He was in the room again. He was struggling to breathe. There was no world except this world of agony and no escape except through the locked door. After the first one had left him winded, shaking, huddled at his desk, he tried to research his symptoms. Flashbacks. But a flashback seemed so innocuous. Flashbacks were what old hippies got after years of dropping acid. Jesse refused to think of the events as flashbacks. They were waking nightmares, and they could hit him at any time. There was never any warning, never a triggering event. And he couldn’t control them. Avoiding the other sort of nightmare—the regular nightmare—was easy enough. He just stopped sleeping. But that wasn’t enough to completely thwart the terror. Jesse dropped his forehead to his desk and gasped for breath, trying to slow his racing pulse. His lungs burned each time he inhaled, and his skin felt sweaty and tight. Everything felt sweaty and tight. He needed fresh air. He needed to get out of the small office. He needed help. He needed to pull himself together because Emma would be back from the museum soon, and Gideon would be up at dusk, ready to take out a nest of demons down by the docks. And he would expect Jesse to have the research done and the suitable weapons gathered, because they already knew enough to know that regular metal swords and axes wouldn’t penetrate their hides. Which meant he only had about ninety minutes to figure out what would kill the demons, and then track down whatever weapon Gideon needed, if they didn’t already own it. Once it no longer felt like his heart was trying to escape through his ribs, he sat up, wiping a hand over his face. His cheeks were flushed, and it felt like he had a fever. He stood on legs he didn’t altogether trust and walked over to the water cooler. A drink would help his dry mouth and throat. A drink would give him a few more seconds before he had to get back to work. He ignored the way his fingers trembled as he filled the paper cup with water. Shaking fingers were the least of his problems. By the time he made it back to his desk, everything was almost back to normal. Or as normal as things got these days. By some act of providence, neither Gideon nor Emma had ever witnessed one of his nightmares, or one of his panic attacks. Part of that was because they were both busy. Emma had been promoted and she often worked more than forty hours a week. Gideon had likewise thrown himself into work, attacking the demon population in Chicago with an almost frightening vigor. Part of that was because Jesse was good at keeping himself busy and avoiding spending time alone with them. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want them to know that he was haunted. It was over. It was behind them. He shouldn’t be experiencing it every day. They were all ready to move on. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy, and Jesse didn’t quite understand why. The ringing telephone sent his pulse racing again, and he snatched it from the cradle, if only to silence it. “Gideon Investigations.” “Hello, this is a courtesy call for Gideon Keel from American Electric.” “Yes?” Jesse knew why they were calling. There was no reason to get Gideon involved. “We’re just calling to inform you that your power bill is now two weeks late. I’ll be more than happy to take your payment now with your credit or debit card.” Jesse looked at the stack of unopened envelopes on his desk. He had no doubt the power bill was there. It was his job to pay the utilities and keep the office running smoothly. It had always been his job. “I’ll pay it now.” He fumbled his own credit card out of his wallet, though he was supposed to use the office’s bank account. If this were the first time he had simply forgotten to pay the bills, he wouldn’t have hesitated to use Gideon’s card. But it wasn’t the first time. Or even the second time. And the last thing he wanted was to leave a paper trail of his mistakes. It was just a matter of time until Gideon discovered all of his mistakes anyway. As he hung up the phone, he heard the unmistakable sound of Gideon showering. He frowned. That couldn’t be right. He didn’t expect to see Gideon until at least six and it was only… Jesse frowned and looked at his watch. A quarter to six. Where had the last hour gone? He stared at the stack of books and his notebook with a familiar sense of helplessness. He had promised Gideon he would have the research done, the weapons prepared, and he had nothing. He couldn’t even remember reading the damned books, but he was sure he had. He could tell Gideon he needed more time, but what if Gideon wanted to know why? For as often as he lost time—an hour or two completely gone from his memory wasn’t uncommon—he should have a convincing excuse on hand. But he didn’t. Six months. Six months since Marcus Brooker had kidnapped him, tortured him, filled his head with stories and lies and death. His body was as healed as it would ever be—though the scars weren’t going anywhere. Not without major cosmetic surgery. Everything else was back to normal. And everything else was wrong all the time. Jesse’s fingers didn’t want to cooperate, but he forced them to close around the pen, then turned back to the book he must have been reading before. He didn’t remember for sure, but it was the one that was still open on his desk. When the footsteps came, he deliberately didn’t look up. I’m utterly absorbed in my reading, he tried to wordlessly convey. He even turned a page, hoping that would convince Gideon. “When did it start snowing again?” “Snowing?” Jesse glanced out the window, staring at the fat, white flakes in surprise. “I’m not sure.” He tried to think of any reliable markers during his day. The post always arrived around one, and when he opened the door to speak to the deliveryman, it hadn’t been snowing. “After lunch, I guess.” Gideon crossed the room in long strides, folding his arms over his chest as he stared out over the city. The glass was starting to frost from the cold, a reminder that Jesse hadn’t turned the thermostat up that morning as was his routine, but Gideon blocked most of it from view. His hair was still damp from the shower, razor-short except where it flopped over his brow, and the shirt he wore strained over his back. He looked broader than usual. Jesse wasn’t sure why. “Well, we won’t have to worry about the nest tonight, at least,” Gideon mused aloud. “Those things will be hunkered in against the storm.” Jesse couldn’t contain his sigh of relief. Researching wasn’t impossible by any means, but reading was always more difficult after an attack. He understood maybe one word out of five. He’d simply tackle the problem the next morning. “Are you going to go out tonight, then?” “Depends. When is Emma supposed to be home?” Emma was in the habit of sharing a cup of coffee with him in the morning before she left for work. For whatever reason, he could always recall the details of the quiet conversations they shared then. “She told me eight. Or eight-thirty. It depends on if she stops somewhere to pick up dinner.” Gideon seemed to give up on snowgazing and came back to lounge in the corner of the couch. No matter how many times Jesse saw him, or laid in bed watching him, or fell asleep where the last thing he saw were the two people he loved most in this world, Jesse felt Gideon’s attraction like a blow to his chest. The strong nose, jaw, the dark eyes that could go black with desire in a single blink, or better, turn golden and gleam with hunger Jesse sated best. Sometimes looking at Gideon was taking a drink of the clearest water for an unquenchable thirst. It was exactly what he needed, desired, and only made him want more. “Is she getting something for you, too?” Gideon asked. “Or would you like me to make you something since it looks like we’ll be in for a while?” Jesse almost said I’m not hungry, but those words were all but verboten. Gideon basically acted as though he didn’t hear them, and food would magically appear in front of Jesse whether he wanted it or not. “She’s going to bring me a roast beef from the deli.” Jesse sat back in his chair and let his gaze move over the lines of Gideon’s body once again. He knew he was too tired to stay at his desk, but he didn’t want to go downstairs and leave Gideon in the office. Despite everything, he wasn’t really in the mood to be alone. “Can we…I think I’m done up here for the day. Can we lock the office up?” For a moment, he thought he saw Gideon’s mouth tighten, but the moment quickly passed, and Gideon was rising to his feet again. “We can both lie down,” he said. “We haven’t had much time to do that together lately when one of us hasn’t been dead to the world.” Jesse almost balked. He didn’t want to lie down, because he didn’t want to risk falling asleep. But at the same time, he didn’t want to lose this opportunity. Gideon was right. It felt like the quiet time they had together bordered on nonexistent. “Okay. But didn’t you just wake up?” He smiled. “Who said anything about sleeping?” Jesse returned his smile, his fingertips tingling with anticipation. For the first time that day, he felt like he actually had some energy and focus. There were some things Jesse knew they couldn’t do—and he couldn’t dwell on that fact because it made everything that much worse—but that didn’t mean everything was out of bounds. “Do you want me to shut down everything up here, or do you want me to go downstairs?” Gideon held out a hand to him. “Leave it. I’ve missed my boy.” I’ve missed you, too. For a moment, Jesse was tempted to tell him everything. He was tempted to tell him about the bills he never remembered to pay, and the research he couldn’t bring himself to do, and the minutes and hours he lost every day. Jesse took his hand and let Gideon lead him downstairs into the dark apartment. The space had gone through so many changes since the first time Gideon had brought him there. First, it had shown the signs of Jesse’s residence, and now little hints and pieces of Emma covered the room. But despite what they added to the apartment, Gideon’s personal touch never faded. Gideon guided him into the bedroom, and Jesse hesitated for a moment when he saw the bed. He knew now he wouldn’t be able to avoid sleeping, but maybe Gideon would stay with him. Usually, that helped. Gideon’s hand disappeared from his, to return in gentle strokes along Jesse’s spine. “Strip.” The order was low and soothing, like the dim lighting that wrapped around them. “You’re too tense in all those clothes. Then kneel and wait. I’ll be right back.” Gideon was gone almost before he finished speaking, but Jesse was accustomed to the vampire’s speed. He moved methodically, first unbuttoning his shirt, then kicking off his shoes. His belt and pants followed. He used the time to try to focus his thoughts with a breathing technique Michelle had taught him—she was the only one he’d told about the attacks. He fell into the easy rhythms without trouble, but only because the room was warm, and he knew Gideon would be back soon. Once undressed, he knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed, his hands going behind his back. The position he’d chosen gave him the best view of the doorway and of Gideon filling the frame when he returned. He’d taken off his shirt, but in his hand were some of Emma’s candles from the bathroom, votives he placed on the nightstand and promptly lit. Normally, Gideon complained about the heavy scents imbued in the wax, which was why Emma kept her use restricted to the leisurely baths she occasionally took. But as the flame began to flicker and dance, Jesse realized these were a new scent. Something musky he didn’t recognize.