A Case of Possession (A Charm of Magpies #2)

by K.J. Charles

Polite soirees and elegant dinners with people whose achievement in life began and ended with birth held no appeal at all.

Not as rewarding as the pursuit of a certain amber-eyed individual whose small, lithe, delightfully yielding body kept him awake at night, but that wasn’t an option right now because the little devil had once again vanished off to work.

He had disappeared two nights ago without a word, and would return as it suited him.

Stephen is like a little cat

“You owe it to me for keeping quiet about you and Day.” Rackham’s lips were rather pale and his skin looked clammy. “We’re not in China now.”

How dare you

“It’s all right, sweet boy, sweetheart,” he murmured, moving to kneel between Stephen’s legs. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t want your thanks. Just stop trying to stand alone when you don’t have to. Accept some damned help, now and again. The rest of us do.”

“Mr. Day didn’t turn up, then?” said Merrick, homing in on his thoughts as ever. “Been and gone.” “Came and went?” “Oh, shut up.” Crane sat up and sipped his coffee.

“Hello to you.” Stephen leaned forward, resting his head against Crane’s chest. “And thank you. You’re rather marvellous.” “Says the man with magic hands.” Crane brushed his own slender, ordinary fingers through Stephen’s curls.

Stephen stared up a minute longer, then his shoulders dropped slightly. “I see what you’re saying, but—” Crane sighed. “It is actually possible to accept help without marking yourself as a weakling, you know.”

Stephen hopped backwards to sit on the desk and Crane moved between his legs to kiss him, felt him lean back invitingly, and grinned against his mouth. “Dear me, Mr. Day. You really do love to get fucked on desks, don’t you? Put you on a desk, and you’re begging for it. What is so particularly exciting about desks?”

“There’s a perfectly good desk in the flat,” Crane said. “A lot stronger than this, and decidedly safer.” “But, in the Strand,” Stephen argued, “whereas this desk is right here, and you could have me on it right now.”

“But I bet I can get naked before you can lock the door and get back.” “Stakes?” “Ooh. If I win we do it on the desk. If you win, you can have me against the wall.”

“Looking for your pal?” asked Town, at his elbow. “He probably jumped from the window,” said Crane. “Almont is a shocking dullard, isn’t he?”

“Cor, dear.” Merrick shook his head. “You have got it bad, ain’t you?” “Shut up.” “I’m just saying. Round his little finger.” “Shut up.” “Pining, that’s what you are. I didn’t recognise it at first, but—”

“So, what I’m saying is, you might think you’re treating someone as an equal, but you ain’t. Because, my lord earl, when you’re bigger and older and richer and all that and you’re naturally a domineering sod, maybe that person don’t feel equal, no matter what you might reckon.

“Earl Crane. Shouldn’t there be an ‘of’ in that?” “No. It’s like Earl Grey.” “The tea?” “The lord.”

“Oh!” Leonora put a hand to her mouth and let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank God. I thought you’d killed him.” “I realise that. Thank you for your good opinion.”

More aggression than he’d intended rang in the last words, but he was damned if Stephen would stand here and take abuse.

“I will talk to you later.” “What does that mean?” said Stephen warily. “Shout at. Fuck. Adore. Come here.”

“What happened to you?” “Blame Leo. She bled all over me.” “That’s the Hawkes and Cheney suit!” said Merrick, outraged. “I’ll never get that stain out.” “I’ll bleed more carefully next time,” Leonora assured him.

I seem to be peculiarly inept at understanding your needs when we’re not in bed, and I know I’ve got a hell of a lot wrong to date, but...don’t run away from me, please. Don’t disappear.”

My life changed four months ago, and I utterly failed to understand that until just recently, and therefore...I may have omitted to tell you that I love you.” He took a breath. “That’s all.”

Oh, hellfire. I love you, Lucien. It wouldn’t be so nerve-wracking if I didn’t.”

“As soon as you like. How long can you take?” “How long do you want?” “The rest of your life.” Crane watched Stephen’s eyes widen. “For now, how about a fortnight?” “Done,” Stephen said. “And...done.” “God, sweet boy. I love you. I think I need to say that quite a lot.” “Any time.” Stephen’s voice was a little shaky, his eyes bright.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to be horribly killed. I’m sure you said that.” “I said I wasn’t going to be horribly killed by rats. I never promised not to have my soul eaten by a demented ghost.”

Stephen gave a little gulp. “Sorry. Sorry. I just...” “Ssh. It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.”

He glanced down, startled, and saw nothing. Stephen’s hands were demurely folded on his lap. “Is that you?” “It is.” The invisible clasp firmed, stroking his skin. “That’s giving me ideas.” Stephen’s eyes widened. “Not in a church, Lucien.”