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JEREMIAH
His hands shook as he gripped his glass, the alcohol burning his throat. There were few spirits that actually worked on him, and those that did were mostly made by Dragons. Lucky for him, he had a member on his team with a family that had been in the distillery business for generations.
“Better?” Knight asked with a small smile.
He was sitting across the room, dressed to the nines in his suit despite the fact it was the middle of the night, his ankle crossed over his knee. A highball glass dangled from the tips of his fingers, the liquid inside dark red and glinting from the low light in the corner of Jeremiah’s room. He used to find the scent of blood disconcerting, but he’d grown used to it over the years since Knight predominately fed from a glass to avoid contact with people.
Jeremiah grunted and took another long swallow from his glass.
“Come on, Sunshine. That would burn the scales off a Siren. Sip it, you heathen.”
Jeremiah winced in spite of himself as he took another drink. The alcohol worked just enough to take the edge off his nerves, but he’d never be able to consume enough to forget what he’d done. He’d broken every moral code they had—and a few of his own.
Remi was a client, and he was young, and he was vulnerable. Whatever the hell he was feeling, it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t natural. And it was clear it wasn’t something either of them could control. Remi’s want had poured off him like clouds of pheromones, and Jeremiah’s hound was clawing at his chest to be let loose, to claim.
And he’d let go for just a second.
There was no taking it back.
“You need to take over for me,” Jeremiah said roughly.
Knight sighed. “We’ve been through this. The queen and king—”
“They’re going to throw me out on my ass if—when they find out what I did,” Jeremiah said, shoving his fingers into his hair and tugging. He started to sit, but halfway into his crouch, he shot back up again and started pacing. “We’ve barely made any headway with this investigation, we’ve made almost no progress in tracking down the leak, and now I’ve molested—”
“Whoa, wait. What the fuck?” Knight asked. He was on his feet, his fangs dropping and eyes flooding with a red glow. “You did what?”
Jeremiah wanted to sink into the floor. “I kissed him.”
“Against his will?” Knight growled.
Jeremiah slapped a hand over his face and dragged it down. “No, but—”
“Oh, by the everlasting fucking gods,” Knight said and collapsed back down. “Can you please not use the word ‘molested’ when you’re talking about making out with a man who clearly wants to climb you like a tree? Swim you like an ocean?” Knight added with a frown. “Whatever the equivalent is for Sirens.”
Jeremiah gave him a withering look, and Knight just tipped his glass at him in a cheers, then gulped it all down, his eyes glowing once more as the blood hit his system.
“Why are you not understanding the gravity of this situation?” Jeremiah growled. “It doesn’t matter that he wanted it. I’m in a position of power over him—”
“I hate to break it to you, but he’s a crown prince, and you’re technically on his payroll. He’s the one with the power,” Knight said. “And you’re treating him like a child because you feel guilty that you finally gave in to something you wanted.”
“You think so?” Jeremiah snarled sarcastically.
Knight spread his hands, unmoved and unintimidated by Jeremiah’s voice. “I call it like I see it, and I do that because I love you. And because you’re acting like a moron.”
Jeremiah wanted to put his fist through the wall and debated whether or not he’d settle for putting his fist through Knight’s chest. The fucker would heal. “I can’t keep this up. Every time I’m around him, I want to…”
“Tear his clothes off?”
Jeremiah swallowed heavily and couldn’t bring himself to lie. “And I don’t think he’s going to stay away from me anymore, which is making going to make it that much harder.”
“It or you?” Knight said with a wink, refilling his glass from the thermos he’d brought with him when Jeremiah had called freaking out.
“Will you please, for the love of all the gods, take this seriously?” Jeremiah begged.
Knight sighed and set his glass down, then rested his forearms on his thighs, looking up at Jeremiah. “I’m not saying it’s ideal to fall for a client, and I’m not saying you should continue to act on it. But I’m also not not saying that.”
“I’m going to light you on fire and bury you in concrete.”
