Chapter Eight
Oh,fucking hell that kiss was not what Bryce needed on a Tuesday morning after several tiring days of research.
Or no, that kiss had beenexactlywhat he needed and that was the bigger problem. Or maybe it wasn’t. But it probably was. Kissing Jesse felt too right, but wanting him only complicated the situation. They were clearly investigating the same theft. Bryce didn’t know where this would lead, and he didn’t like that Jesse was pursuing the same information, if only because it opened Jesse up to the paranormal. Not everyone remained intact after brushes with the other-worldly, not even the ones looking for it.
But Jesse seemed balanced enough. Maybe he wouldn’t have a problem facing the monsters that Bryce ran across on a frequent basis.
Bryce didn’t have it in him to stay confused over wanting Jesse, especially since he had a hard-on that wasn’t easily banished. He wasn’t even somewhere private where he could take the matter in hand and get Jesse out of his system. Not that one, or even two times would be enough. Jesse didn’t just open doors long shut in Bryce’s psyche, he obliterated them and the frames they stood in. Bryce hadn’t wanted anyone this badly in ages.
Why did he have to work for the FBI?
The black-and-white movie kept playing in front of him, but Bryce was long past watching the screen to forget his troubles. His lips tingled from their recent kiss. Bryce rubbed the center of his forehead and cursed under his breath. He couldn’t sleep with Jesse. Shouldn’t even think about it.
Which somehow made the little fantasy playing in vivid color in the back of his mind even more enticing. He couldn’t even remember the last guy who made him want to bottom, and yet he knew if Jesse asked, he’d want to try.
Footsteps neared, and Bryce raised his head, half-hoping it was Jesse and completely unsure of what he would do if it was.
David walked toward him, and Bryce’s disappointment must have shown, because he frowned. “Something wrong, boss?”
“Nothing.” Bryce swept the desire and the rest of his feelings into a box and shoved them in the far corner of his mind where they belonged. “What did you learn?”
“You were right. Someone has been coming to the exhibit. Almost every day since it opened. Got a copy of it. Should be able to get a pic with our software.” David handed Bryce a USB stick.
They had no reason to stick around, which was a blessing. Bryce needed the distance from Jesse before he made any more foolish mistakes. Like making out with him in the middle of an exhibit. He nodded toward the exit. “Let’s get going before the FBI figures out someone else was asking for the footage.”
“Is that likely?” David asked.
“More than I want to think about.”
For all intents and purposes,the DWO office building in downtown St. Louis looked like any other federal building built after the 1970’s. It was a plain, boring shade of beige on the outside, with a standard parking lot for employees out front and a few bushes and trees in an attempt to make it appear like someone gave a damn about landscaping. Bryce drove the navy-blue SUV around all that to the entrance in the back of the building. He stopped in the green-marked box on the pavement and waited.
Unseen scanners picked up the vehicle’s presence, checked that the SUV was DWO, and, once satisfied, opened the garage door. The light in the garage had a blueness to it, giving off the impression of starkness. It always made Bryce feel like he was stepping into the middle of a spaceship.
A spaceship was on the other side of the garage, and it was life-pod sized rather than intergalactic cruiser big. It was a relic from the late 1940’s, but every now and again an engineer wanted to see if they could unlock its secrets. Someone must have taken up the fascination once more if it’d been moved from the archives building and into the main garage.
Bryce parked the car in line with the other more terrestrial vehicles. He and David made their way to the door leading toward the offices, passing a security guard on the way. After swiping their ID badges and doing retinal scans, they cleared the checkpoint and went into the building.
The elevator required a verbal affirmation, didn’t matter what. Bryce was debating on saying something nonsensical, words that wouldn’t strike up a conversation with David, but David spoke first.
“Why were you so spooked at the museum?” he asked as they stepped inside.
Bryce pressed the button for the third floor. “I was caught off guard.”
“By the art?”
“I’d rather not discuss it,” Bryce replied. “Let’s duplicate the footage and analyze it as quickly as possible. If our thief is on there, we might not have much time.”
“Before the FBI interrupts us or before shit hits the fan?” David asked.
“Both.”
The doors opened on the third floor. The layout was similar in many ways to a police precinct. A bullpen for most investigators dominated the floor and their desks were clumped in groups of three or four, totaling fourteen. There were offices occupying the outer wall and a hallway that led to interrogation, a short-term artifact lock-up, and equipment rooms. Civilians often saw this floor—if necessity required their appearance in the building—and so the floor had to look as ordinary as possible. Some agents had taken off on a lunch break, but most were in the bullpen, making the room a cacophony of office sounds.
Susan Walker, an agent who had trained with Bryce and led her own investigative team, was half-sitting on a desk toward the middle of the bullpen. She had her ebony hair pulled back, and frowned in concentration as she mulled over the details on a tablet in her hands. When she spotted David and Bryce, she handed the tablet off to a team member.
“Reynolds! I heard you pulled the Valless case,” Walker said.
“We did,” Bryce replied. “How was Texas?”
