Monster—excerpt

Chapter One

Joshua Mackay was hunting a monster by bicycle. In the park. On a Sunday afternoon.

And he’d lost sight of his quarry. Sweat soaked his clothes as he pumped his legs, taking the path’s curves as quickly as possible. Which wasn’t all that fast given that the family activity brigade was out in full force. He swiped a hand over his face and wished it wasn’t ninety-degree weather. Salt stung his eyes and he squinted, looking ahead. Surely the monster hadn’t escaped.

He’d been careful, perhaps so careful he hadn’t actually poked a hole in the back wheel of the monster’s bike. Surreptitious was all well and good, but not when it meant failure. He had thought to find Kiran Brunner with a flat tire by now.

Perhaps the monster was even more talented than Josh had been led to believe. Kir made men forget him, or bent them to his will. Most spectacularly, he had once convinced a man to shoot himself in the head. Fortunately, Josh carried a bicycle pump, not a gun. He might be compelled to brain himself with a pump but he didn’t think it would be fatal.

He biked here every day in the summer. The monster that was, not Josh who preferred air-conditioning over smoggy heat. Baking in the sun was hell and even if evil belonged there, Josh didn’t. Besides, Josh didn’t believe in evil so much as capability and Kir, as his files named him, was capable of murder.

Not that you could tell by the photos and videos Josh had studied over the past month. There the boy’s expression was mostly grim, occasionally sullen. Wide-spaced eyes, a mobile mouth and defined cheekbones made Kir’s dark gaze profoundly disturbing. And beautiful, in a wild way.

Kir had become his obsession since Josh had taken this job. His contact wanted Kir alive. To study. To track down the other dangerous Minders who could invade and destroy people’s minds. So Josh prepared to meet this beautiful monster on a warm, green summer day.

Speak of the devil. There he was, walking his crippled bike down the asphalt path.

Josh slowed while adrenaline spilled out of his nerves and fed his blood. The next few minutes were critical. As planned, his brakes squeaked in warning. He didn’t want to startle Kir, who was a jumpy kind of guy. Went with the psi territory and, no doubt, with being on the agency’s most-wanted list. A potent combination.

As Josh approached, Kir jerked to a stop and whipped his head around. Hands clenched the bike’s handlebars while his entire body stiffened. Casual, Josh warned himself. He stood, straddling his bike, leaving enough distance not to crowd the jittery boy.

Josh wiped his face again, giving the monster time to get used to his presence. He hadn’t planned to be sweating like a pig when he finally talked to Kir, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Flat?” Josh glanced at Kir’s back wheel.

“Yeah.” Kir’s tone implied, what of it?

“I’ve got a repair kit.”

Kir didn’t respond, just watched Josh warily.

Josh shrugged. “If you want to borrow it. Otherwise I’ll be on my way.” He sat back on his seat and lifted one foot to the pedal.

Kir stared, unblinking, but just before Josh was about to push off, Kir said, “Okay.” The one word came out a little breathlessly. “Thanks,” he added with a halfhearted grin. The boy wasn’t used to smiling and the awkward effort surprised Josh.

“Sure.” Josh walked his bike off the path.

“Where’s the kit?” Kir asked. Josh had the impression he was trying not to sound suspicious.

“Here.” Josh unzipped the pouch under his bicycle seat. There he carried the repair kit, a pump and a garage-door opener—access to the safe house. Safe for him. Not so safe for Kir.

Josh handed over the cheap kit and Kir took it with a jerk.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You can keep it. Do you have your own pump?” Josh knew he didn’t.

“No. But if you’re in a hurry…”

Josh leaned against a tree. “I’m not.” He kept his smile on low beam. “I can wait. You can use mine.”

Kir held his gaze for a moment, going wide-eyed.

Oh, baby, don’t tell me you’re easy. This was the monster the agency had hunted for over a year?

“Thanks,” Kir repeated. A man of few words. A monster of few words, Josh reminded himself. It was all well and good to get into his role here but he shouldn’t forget Kir was a twenty-two-year-old psychotic Minder.

Kir crouched down and went to work while Josh eyed him. Just as well the boy wore loose clothing. Josh didn’t need the distraction right now. Dark eyes and faux naiveté were bad enough. Not that Josh pursued youth or inexperience but he had an unrewarding protective streak that was easily aroused.

Rather than openly admire the boy’s body, he watched the families walk, bike and skate past on the all-purpose asphalt path. Kir came here every day and Josh had chosen to catch him on Sunday when the crowd could explain his own presence and make him less of a perceived threat.

A couple of minutes later Kir rose with a sheepish expression. “I never get flats. I don’t know what happened today.”

“Glass, maybe.”

He frowned. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see any.”

“Would you like to use the pump?” Josh brandished his.

“Thanks.”

“You sure are polite. That’s the fourth time you’ve thanked me.”

Kir ducked his head endearingly and Josh wondered if he were being played. Fine, let the boy think he was in control and Josh was charmed by his artless act. Josh passed the pump and made finger contact.

Shivering, Kir pulled away. Psis often didn’t like to be touched, but the boy’s expression conveyed surprise, not recoil. He crouched down quickly, though not before Josh observed a flush.

This is like taking candy from a baby. “I hardly ever use this park, though I live nearby.”

Kir glanced at him. “I come here all the time. When it’s cooler, I run.”

“I’m not surprised. You have runner’s legs.”

Instead of acknowledging the compliment, Kir concentrated on attaching the pump to the tire.

“Actually, I’m glad I stopped,” continued Josh. “The sun is getting to me. I’m heading home for a drink soon.”

Kir worked the pump furiously and Josh waited, giving the boy time to absorb what was happening. When he was done, Kir rose and wiped his face on the sleeve of his T-shirt.

“I hope you have lots of water,” said Josh.

“Uh, some.” Kir stood on the balls of his feet, ready to spring. Under normal circumstances, Josh would never move on someone so skittish.

“Come back to my place and hydrate yourself.” Josh kept his words light.

Kir stared, as if he were a deer caught in headlights, and Josh was annoyed that a part of him felt bad. Either the monster was a very good actor, or he really couldn’t decide whether or not to accept the invitation.

“Can I have my pump?” Josh held out his hand.

“Oh. Yeah.”

This time Josh didn’t force the finger contact. He just took the pump and attached it to his bike. Kir watched as Josh slung a leg over the bicycle’s bar. “Coming?” he asked, as if it were no big deal.

Kir blinked. “Okay.”

“Follow me.” Josh set off and didn’t look back.

As he sped up, he wondered if he’d played it too cool. For a real hookup, he would have pushed harder to make Kir know he was wanted. But in this situation, the less Josh appeared to care, the better. The boy had good reason to be suspicious. The agency had been hunting him for a year now and he’d had some close calls. The failures had inspired the agency to use an outsider to lure the monster back to his cage. A gay outsider who might connect to the boy who occasionally had anonymous sex with men.

Josh braked at the stop sign and only then glanced back to see Kir hot on his trail. Good.

“Just down the road.” Josh left the bike path and entered suburbia. There they rode side by side. Kir gazed with open admiration at the upscale houses they passed, which amused Josh, or would have if he wasn’t wound so tight. The endgame was in sight.

Josh led Kir to the two-story, five-bedroom house he’d become acquainted with this past week.

“Wow. Is this yours?” Kir was impressed.

“Yup,” Josh lied. “Accountants know how to pay their bills.” He turned away from the boy’s admiration and thumbed the garage-door opener. The white double door folded up into the garage’s ceiling.

“Come on in,” said Josh.

Kir hung back as Josh wheeled his bike in beside the black SUV taking up half of the garage.

“I’m ready for air conditioning. You?”

“Okay.” Kir took a deep breath and followed Josh, parking his bike. They entered the house and, once the door shut behind them, Josh breathed a little more easily. The boy didn’t know it, but he was locked in.

“Water? Juice? Something stronger?” Josh asked as he walked to the kitchen. Kir trailed behind him.

“Water, please.”

Josh turned to see Kir wince, as if he thought he sounded stupid. Somehow, Josh hadn’t expected the boy to be naive.

Kir gave a sharp shake of the head. “Sorry, I’m just not used to…”

“Getting picked up during the day?” Josh let his smile widen. Kir jerked his shoulders in an attempt to shrug. While he fidgeted, Josh pulled down two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with water.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Josh didn’t touch Kir’s fingers as he handed him the glass. It was too close to the end. This cat and mouse game left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Monster or not, Kir was too easily played. The files had led Josh to expect some sophistication, especially about sex.

Kir gulped down the entire glass at once. Too fast. Josh resisted the impulse to shake his head at Kir. God, with a little show of interest, of concern, anyone could have brought this boy in.

“Thanks.” Kir swiped his mouth.

“I think you should stop thanking me,” Josh said gently.

Kir’s face softened, as if he thought Josh was about to seduce him. When Josh didn’t do anything, Kir’s expression clouded. He pointed to Josh’s full glass of water. “I thought you were thirsty.”

“I am.” Josh drank—the drug had been in Kir’s glass, not in the water. The boy’s frown remained. Josh wondered, in an idle, theoretical way, if Kir would realize Josh had duped him and exact revenge before passing out. The agency had stressed how easily Kir could damage Josh’s mind. Maybe the drug wasn’t strong enough for the boy.

The boy. Josh felt like a shit. Perhaps Kir had manipulated him into guilt without his realizing it. This was Kir’s talent, using words to convince people they were acting on their own cognizance.

But Josh was unharmed while Kir staggered and reached for the table. Today Josh had done damage, not Kir.

“You okay?” Josh made no move to help.

“Yes.” Kir’s confusion belied his word. He stared intently at the table’s edge, trying to pull himself together. “I…” Realization dawned though Horton, Josh’s contact, had sworn the drug wouldn’t allow it. “Oh.” Kir blinked up at Josh. “You?” Disappointment gave way to something else—determination. Kir’s gaze intensified, even as his body trembled against the drug, and Josh couldn’t look away.

“Don’t let them hurt me.” Kir’s face drained of color and he fell forward.

Josh moved quickly. The least he could do was break the boy’s fall. Bending his knees, he caught Kir and scooped him up. He wasn’t light for his height, but he wasn’t tall either, and Josh was strong.

The boy smelled good, young, fresh. What a waste. Kir should be out with friends on the weekend, not trying—and failing—to escape the agency. Josh carried him to the couch. Laid him down. In his forced sleep the boy looked incredibly innocent—long eyelashes, smooth face with just a hint of the day’s stubble.

But Josh knew about innocence. It wasn’t always pure. He dialed his contact. “He’s here,” he said. “He’s out.”