AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s intense and fascinating, Nelson,” Nox said slowly. “That’s also something I don’t want to get in the middle of. I gotta help you work all that out before you actually put your dick inside any of my orifices because it’ll only get messier if we’re not careful. In unpleasant ways,” he clarified, then gagged.
“I don’t understand how, if you want to anyway. What difference does it make if I—”
“Nope!” Nox said loudly, cutting Nelson off. “It makes all the difference. I want you to want me and I want your will fully activated when I finally suck your soul from your body and ride you like a demon. I don’t want you to confuse me for whatever version it is of me you’re rolling around the woods with. And I don’t want you because you felt commanded.” Nox shuddered.
“I appreciate that. I guess,” Nelson said. “But it still seems inevitable.”
“Right?” Nox asked as he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “It does feel like fate! But I don’t want to do it because it’s fate, either. I want it to be because…” He smiled dreamily. “This morning was so hot, Nelson.”
Nelson nodded jerkily. That he could understand. His desire for Nox as they were waking had stirred from a deeper place and had been bound to his own happiness in new and tender ways. It was nothing like the driving, draining compulsion Nelson experienced with Nox in his dreams.
But Nelson didn’t know how to tell Nox that he didn’t want or need his will if that kind of bliss was the price. It was worth it and infinitely better than the slow professional and existential death Nelson had been looking forward to.
What was wrong with wanting to belong to something or someone like Nox? Too many people lived just for themselves and chased after things they didn’t actually want in order to assimilate and conform to society’s expectations, imagining that was free will. At least with Nox, Nelson knew he would be put to good use and never had to worry about which master he was serving. There was still some question as to who had been pulling the strings behind Nelson’s investigation before Nox had snatched the reins from Felton and the anonymous author of the Post-it note.
“It was hot,” Nelson said, once again feeling like he’d been sidelined until he could prove he was ready.
He didn’t have too long to dwell on his will or fate, thankfully. Nelson took the exit for New Castle and had no trouble finding the sheriff’s department in the two-stoplight town. The town’s administrative offices, the sheriff’s department, and the municipal courthouse operated out of one small building across from the church and a small grocery store and gas station.
“It’s almost 5:00,” Nox noted as he checked the parking lot, but it was still relatively full and most of the building’s windows were lit behind their blinds.
“I talked to Boyle’s assistant and told her we were on our way.”
“In that case!” Nox said facetiously, rolling his eyes as he pushed open his door. “Let’s see what the local yokels have for us.”
“Yokels.” Nelson snorted.
It might have been his imagination or another one of Nox’s tricks, but Nelson heard a banjo picking as he yanked open the door to the sheriff’s office.
“Evenin’, gentlemen!” A young woman with large blonde hair asked cheerfully. She got up to greet them, but her face fell when Nelson took out his badge. “Y’all must be from DC.”
“We are,” Nelson confirmed.
“Right! Sheriff Boyle told me to tell ya’ll he hasn’t come across any new evidence and that he already sent everything he had to the ME over in Roanoke.”
Nelson’s pulse quickened as his temper flared, an extremely rare occurrence. “Where is he?”
“I’m afraid something came up and Sheriff Boy—”
Nelson’s neck craned and he blinked at her, confused. “Something came up?” He glanced at the badge in his hand and back at her. “Does he understand how this works or do you yokels think the law and the criminal justice system work backward out here? I don’t answer to the goddamn sheriff and he will make time for me.”
“But he’s not here,” she whimpered, twisting her fingers and shooting nervous glances at the door to her right.
People had begun to peek around doors and over dividers and a small crowd had gathered in the waiting area in front of the town’s two court rooms. “Alright,” Nelson said loudly, raising his badge and credentials over his head and turning slowly. “Since your silly little sheriff thinks I’m here to play games… My name is Special Agent Grady Nelson of the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” he bellowed. He was about to broadcast details of an ongoing investigation but the whole world would know after Samhain. Nelson was running out of time and what was one more strike on his record? “Who wants to tell me about the MacCrorys? They may be people of interest in the ritual murder of a young woman just a few miles from here and the sheriff isn’t cooperating,” he continued.
Nox was beaming at Nelson. “My name is Professor Lennox MacIlwraith,” he declared proudly. “And it’s important for everyone to know that I am really smart and very good friends with the attorney general.”
They turned when the door to the assistant’s right swung open.
“Get in here!” Boyle shouted, eyes bulging and red in the face.
“Looks like he is here,” Nox said and clicked his teeth at the assistant as they passed her desk.
“I don’t know what the fuck y’all want from me,” Boyle said as the door slammed behind them. He gestured at two leather armchairs as he hurried around an expensive-looking mahogany desk and sat in a tufted leather chair. Nelson threw Nox an impressed look.
“Nice office,” Nelson noted as he took out his notepad, choosing to post by the window so he could keep an eye on his car and the sky. It was getting dark fast and the weather was turning nasty. “You never collected the MacCrorys’ boots or looked into their alibis for the entire night of Elsa Hansen’s death. Why is that, Sheriff?”
Boyle drew back and watched Nox warily. He was reclining with his sneaker propped on his knee and inspecting his glossy purple nails. Boyle pushed out an irritated grunt. “I told you that we didn’t need to worry about the MacCrorys. Those boots are gone and they’re real sorry about that. And I’m real sorry you drove all the way down here when you could be doin’ somethin’ better with your time. But, by God, I didn’t see any need to hassle two respected residents of our community over something as inconsequential as a few pairs of boots, Agent.”
