Title: In the Midnight of My Rose Garden 
Author: Foxhunt2blue
Summary: Written for the FG Anniversary
Edition Challenge #13. AU Universe where
Liam is a vice detective involved in the investiga-
tion of a series of brutal murders. During the in-
vestigation he meets and becomes infatuated 
with a prostitute named Spike.
Rating: NC-17 (all over rating)
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Disclaimer: Our wonderful Joss created 
them I had nothing to do with it—wish I 
had. Frankly the boys would be a lot happier
with me as their mama! *web
Feedback: Please feed the baby slash ho’ cause
she can be quite pathetic. She cries all night if
she doesn’t get her daily dose of feedback. *giggle
E-mail: foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com <mailto:foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com>
Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to Ghostsforge
the best list owner in the world. Thanks to Pet my
sweet punkin who’s lovely poem not only gave me
the title of this story, but who inspires me with her
kinky plot bunnies on occasion. Hugs Pet! :-D 

**** 

Chapter 1


Above Los Angeles storm clouds rolled, under-
bellies lit with the occasional crackle of lightening, 
followed by the echoing roar of thunder. A clear 
sky wasn’t necessary for Detective Hanlon to 
know that there was a full moon tonight. It was 
a given that the moon was full, he thought, as he 
pulled the ’67 Plymouth convertible into the chaos 
outside the ‘Endless’ night club. 
Stepping from the car he shifted his trench up 
over his head as he wove his way between beat 
cops, homicide detectives, crime scene investi-
gators, and finally the most annoying pests—the 
fucking press. 
“Detective Hanlon!” 
“Why are you involved in this case?!” 
“Is it true that there’s a serial killer lose in Los 
Angeles?!” 
“Was this victim a prostitute?!” 
Turning his dark eyes flashing with anger Han-
lon grabbed the nearest beat cop and growled. 
“Get these sick bastards out of here,” the young 
officer looked up from the beneath the brim of his 
rain-cap, “...NOW!” Hanlon roared. 
“Well, Liam looks as if you have finally cracked.” 
Snorting Hanlon pushed the beat cop away and 
turned on the smug bastard grinning from the 
doorway. “Fuck you Pryce! Who the hell called 
the Bureau?” He stomped up the short stoop 
making a point of lowering his coat and shaking 
the rain off next to the less than happy VCU agent. 
“Look, Liam I know you are not in the least happy 
about my presence here, but you do need me on 
this.” Pryce followed close as Liam wove through 
the personnel inside to the stairway. “You should 
have called us in before now. Your combined 
Homicide and Vice investigation is getting you no
where fast. And now this bugger has claimed 
another victim...,” 
“As if anyone cares in your shitty bureaucracy about 
a handful of young male prostitutes!” Liam growled 
as he started up the stairs—his dark coat flapping 
around him like a cloak. 
Pryce cleared his throat. “Unfortunately the game 
has changed with this latest victim.” 
Liam stopped at the top of the stairs turning so 
fast he startled Agent Pryce. “What the fuck are
you talking about?!” His hand shot out grabbing 
the lapel of Pryce’s coat yanking him so close he
could smell the faintest hint of lemon and tea on 
Pryce’s breath. 
“I---I...,” Pryce’s face flushed. 
“I what?” Liam growled leaning closer. 
“The victim—the newest one—it was...,” 
“He! He was!” 
“He was a British ambassador’s son...,” Pryce gasp 
out. 
Fingers uncurling Liam dropped Pryce and turned 
trying to control the anger rising in him. Taking a 
few shallow breaths he looked up to see what could 
only be an angel. His breath caught in his throat as 
his eyes moved over the sleek body encased in black 
leather pants and a gold mesh shirt that left little to 
the imagination. 
“So the others didn’t matter?” Liam whispered his voice
like shredded velvet. His eyes continued up to take in 
the profile of the young man across the room. “It takes 
a god damned wealthy politician’s son dying before you
shits get interested. That’s just fucking predictable.” 
“Liam, please understand this was not my idea. I am 
just following orders.” Pryce stepped closer removing 
his glasses and polishing them with his handkerchief. 
Replacing his glasses Pryce skirted around the detec-
tive to see where the other man’s gaze was aimed. He 
cleared his throat to get Liam’s attention and tried to 
hide the smile that was threatening as Liam’s gaze 
turned to him. 
“There was a witness this time.” Pryce nodded at the
young man Liam had been staring out. “Apparently
he and the victim were room mates. He refuses to
cooperate though. Claims his name is Spike of all
things.” 
Grunting Liam’s gaze moved back to where one of
the detectives was questioning the young man. “Spike?
Not that unusual for the professionals to have odd
names.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the body
language not to mention the beautiful face of the man
in question. “Spike suits him. Look at the hair—bleach-
ed obviously—spiked up and his style. Yeah, it suits
him.” 
Suddenly Spike lifted his head and their eyes met 
across the room sending a chill through Liam’s gut. 
“I need to talk to him. He’s not going to talk to you
feds or to homicide. I know how these people think,
how they live, and that’s the one thing I have over
you, Pryce.” 
“Detective Hanlon.” 
Liam and Pryce turned to see the ME smiling at
them her dark eyes sparkling. 
“Ms. Burkle.” Pryce’s cheeks bloomed pink as
he smiled shyly. 
“Agent Pryce.” She giggled as her gaze lowered
behind her glasses. 
Liam nodded, then coughed to hide the chuckle 
burbling up in his throat. “Fred, what do you have
for me?” 
Looking up with wide eyes Fred blinked, then
blushed turning away. “Come on in boys.” 
Pryce followed Fred like a puppy with Liam
close behind. As he started to step into the room
Liam looked back to where Spike was leaning 
against the wall smoking. To his surprise Spike
was watching him with sharp eyes. Eyes that 
from even this distance he could see clearly. 
Brilliant sapphire blue. 
Another chill travelled up Liam’s spine. 
**** 
“The MO is exactly the same down to the last
detail.” Fred handed the two men latex gloves,
then began pointing out details. “Stephen Connery,
age twenty-four. Until I can do a full autopsy I
can only say that my preliminary findings show
that he was strangled. There are bruises that 
correspond with the previous victims.” 
Liam crouched down next to the bed studying
the silk scarf that held the boys wrist tied to the
bed. He reached out running his finger beneath
the scarf—pushing it aside. “Bruising...,” he
mumbled, “...looks like the same type scarf as
well. Same color and the same design.” He stood
looking down at the boy’s body. “Any sign of...,” 
“Yes. There is evidence of anal intercourse. I
doubt there will be any semen though. This guy
knows what he’s doing. All we’ve found on the
previous victims are traces of lubrication and a
common one at that. KY Jelly. Any drugstore
carries it and if he’s wearing a condom which I’m
positive he is considering the lack of DNA evi-
dence it’s something non-lubricated. No spermi-
cide either.” Fred walked around the bed making
notes. 
Pryce let out a soft breath. “What about the crown
of roses?” He moved closer one hand tracing the
air above the boy who looked at peace. 
“All the victims were found like this, Pryce. God,
you feds are annoying know-it-alls who know shit
most days.” Liam took a deep breath as he watch-
ed the crime scene investigators move about the 
room. “All the victims were male prostitutes be-
tween twenty and thirty. All had sex, but weren’t
raped. Silk scarves black with gold embroidery
were used to bind arms and legs to the bed-frame.” 
“I read the file, Liam!” Pryce snapped. 
Looking up Liam growled in his throat. “Then you
should know that the victims were all found bound
in a way to imitate the crucifixion of Christ. They
also wore a crown of roses. Black China roses.” 
Turning away from Pryce he yanked the latex 
gloves off with a snap, then headed for the door
his shoulders slumped. “Winifred let me know as
soon as you have the autopsy results.” 
She looked up from her notes. “Of course Liam.” 
“Where are you going?” Pryce questioned. 
“Back to the precinct. I’m having them bring our
witness in. I think maybe Spike knows some-
thing more than you idiots could possibly get
out of him.” 
Walking out Liam left Pryce staring after him
with a look of distaste on his face. 
**** 
“Where in God’s name have you been, Liam?” 
Liam glanced up from the file he was studying
and frowned at his partner. “Crime scene.” His
gaze lowered back to the file as he reached for
his coffee cup. 
Dropping in the chair next to Liam’s desk Charles
Gunn snorted. “Yeah, well next time you decide
to slide your oily ass out of this station you tell me
first.” 
“So you’re my mother now?” Liam continued 
reading the file without looking up. 
“If I was your mamma you’d know it punk!” Gunn
snapped. “I am your partner though. P-A-R-T...,” 
“Dammit Charles! I know how to spell partner!” 
“Well, apparently you don’t know what it means 
though.” Gunn stood a low growl in his words. 
Liam looked up his dark eyes flashing. “I didn’t
need a partner!” 
“Shit man! Look at yourself. It’s like you have
a fucking death wish!” Sighing Gunn ran his hands
over his smooth head. “Look it wasn’t your fault
Kate died. Cops die everyday. She knew the risks
—especially in Vice.” 
“I’m not talking about this.” Liam snarled. “If you’re
done psychoanalyzing me—was there something
you wanted?” 
Shaking his head Gunn turned and walked away
yelling over his shoulder. “Your witness is in Interro-
gation Room Three.” 
**** 
Standing outside the interrogation room Liam watched
Spike through the glass comfortable in the knowledge
that all Spike saw was a mirror. There was something
about this man that drew him near. 
Spike was sitting at the table facing the mirror, long 
leather clad legs propped up in a comfortable sprawl,
chair tilted back on two legs, and a smirk to kill all
smirks on his beautifully sculpted face. In one hand he
held a cigarette loosely between two slender fingers. 
The other hand moving over his muscled thigh—slow
and languid. 
For some reason Liam caught himself staring at that
slender hand. Shaking the odd feeling off he moved
away from the window to the door. Taking a deep
breath he opened the door and stepped into the room,
heading for the table. 
“‘Bout bloody time.” 
Looking up Liam met those crystalline blue eyes with
a slight frown. “Sorry to keep you waiting...,” 
“Spike. Name’s Spike. So what can I—lowly whore
that I am—do for LA’s finest, luv?” He took a deep 
drag and tilted his head back, blowing a series of 
smoke rings into the air. 
“Well, first you could give me your real name. Second
you could put that cigarette out. And third my name is
Detective Hanlon not luv.” 
Snorting Spike stuck out his tongue putting out his 
cigarette on it. “Bloody pigs—no sense of humor.” 
“Not when it comes to murder we don’t!” Liam growled. 
“No insult to your intelligence, but I didn’t kill Jazz, pet.” 
Liam raised a brow. “Again my name is Hanlon not pet.” 
Rolling his eyes Spike stretched lazily in the chair. The
gold mesh shirt rode up giving Liam a glimpse of a flat
muscled stomach. “Fine—Hanlon—didn’t bloody well
kill Jazz.” He yawned running one hand through his 
wild platinum hair. “Jazz was my mate. Sodden fool I
told him not to go up there. Said he needed the green
though.” 
Liam swallowed hard and let his gaze drag up Spike’s
lean torso to finally settle on his face. “So this Jazz 
was he a...,” 
“He was.” Spike raised one dark brow as he swung 
his legs off the table, his boots hitting the floor with 
a thud. 
“Were you and he—lovers?” 
Spike’s other brow rose. “Bit personal now ain’t it?” 
“Well?” Liam stared straight into Spike’s eyes. 
“Bloody hell—no!” Spike growled. “Jazz and me we
were mates. No hanky-panky—just mates. You 
know. Friends? Shared a flat over on Westwood.” 
Tapping his pen against the file he had brought in
Liam studied Spike with narrow eyes. Spike re-
turned the glare in full before he stood and began 
pacing the room. To Liam it was like watching a
jungle cat—sleek and dangerous—stalking the
floor. 
“You need to have a seat.” Liam calmly spoke
as he ripped his eyes away. Opening the file in
front of him he shuffled the crime scene photos
as he shifted in his seat. He could feel his cock
twitch in his pants and that pissed him off. 
“Why?” 
Liam looked up to see Spike staring at him with
those cold, beautiful eyes. 
“Because I said so.” Eyes narrowing Liam stared
at Spike as he moved back to the table. 
Spike turned the chair around backwards and 
swung his leg over the seat. As he settled into
the chair he reached for the pack of Camels on
the table. Liam reached out his hand closing over
Spike’s and their gazes met across the table. 
“Forget it, luv.” Spike whispered in a honey sweet
voice. “You can’t bloody well afford my arse.” 
Before he could stop himself Liam was up his fist
connecting with Spike’s jaw. 
Hitting the floor Spike scrambled to his feet spitting
blood. “Sodden bastard! What in the bloody hell
was that for?! You got no right to keep me here!” 
Liam was around the table and slamming Spike 
against the wall, one arm across his slender throat,
his body pressing against Spike’s. “You listen to me
you little slut.” He leaned close whispering in Spike’s
ear. “If I want your ass I’ll get it and there will be no
money involved.” He ground his hips against Spike’s
to emphasize his point. 
Behind him Liam heard Gunn plow through the door
with a scream. “What the fuck do you think you’re
doing, Liam?” 
Gunn’s hands settled on his shoulders like a vice 
grip and yanked him backwards. He shrugged 
off Gunn and turned as Spike slid to the floor
coughing. 
“Back off, Charles!” Liam snarled. 
“Not until you tell me what the fuck just happened.” 
Liam’s eyes narrowed going almost black. “Assault 
on an officer. Book him.” 
“Bullshit, Liam! Do I look stupid?” Gunn shouted. 
“Fine. I hit the whore.” 
“I’m in the bloody room, pig!” Spike snorted as
he pulled himself to his feet. “He punched me. Went
all nutters on my arse.” Rubbing at his throat Spike
moved to the door. “I’m outta here.” 
Gunn glanced over at Spike. “Would you like to
press charges?” 
Snorting Spike grabbed his leather coat from the 
bench along the wall. “Yeah, right! Not in this life.
All I want right now is to get as far away from that
nutter as I can.” Just as he reached the door Spike
paused to light a smoke. With a glance back he
glared at Liam. “And you bloody pigs wonder why
we don’t trust you.” 
Gunn shook his head as Spike disappeared through
the door. “We need to talk, bro’.” 
Rolling his eyes Liam straightened his shirt and head-
ed out the door. “No—we don’t.” 
With a snort Gunn grabbed Liam’s arm and spun
him around. “Yeah—we do. It’s me or the captain,
Liam. Your choice.” 
**** 
An hour later the two detectives sat in Ronnie’s
Diner silently contemplating one another. Their
staring contest was interrupted by the waitress. 
“So boys what’ll it be tonight?” 
Gunn glanced up smiling. “Didn’t know you’d
be on shift tonight, Anne.” 
“Sure thing.” Anne popped her gum and winked
at Gunn. “Switched shifts with Cordy. I have a
audition at Caritas tomorrow night.” 
Liam glanced up then. “Caritas? Isn’t that the
club over in West Hollywood?” 
“Sure is tall, dark, and broody. Lorne the owner
got his hands on a copy of one of my audition
tapes and called my agent. Cordy was so damn
jealous it wasn’t funny.” Anne threw back her
head laughing. “She’s my bud though and she 
was happy for me. Getting an audition for that
place is like pulling teeth without novocaine—don’t
happen.” 
“So pretty lady can we get a couple cups of Joe?” 
“Got ya, Gunn. Anything else?” 
Gunn glanced over at Liam. He figured the man
could use a good meal. “Two specials, baby-
girl.” 
With a wink Anne disappeared into the kitchen. 
“Hope your hungry partner.” Liam mumbled. 
“Ain’t all for me.” 
Staring out the window Liam shook his head
and sighed. “I left Seattle because of the rain. 
California is suppose to be sunny.” 
“Come on bro’ talk to me. Why did you attack
that boy in the interrogation room?” Gunn leaned
across the table. 
Liam shook his head. “I don’t know...,” he whis-
pered, “...I just don’t know.” 
“Is this about Kate?” 
Jerking around Liam’s eyes narrowed. “No. None
of this is about her.” 
“Then what, Liam? Is there something you ain’t
telling me?”

Liam’s shoulders slumped. “Alexander.” 
“Who?” Gunn frowned, then grew silent as Anne
delivered their meal. Sensing the tension Anne 
slipped away to give the two men some privacy. 
“I swore it was a one time thing. That it wouldn’t
happen, again.” Liam lifted the mug of coffee
blowing across the surface lost in thought. “How
do you feel about...,” he words trailed off as he
stared into the mug. 
“What?” 
“Homosexuals.” 
Gunn frowned. “That’s an odd question, Liam.” 
“Answer the question...,” Liam’s gaze lifted to
meet Gunn’s, “...please?” 
“I think that God wants people to be happy.” 
“That’s not an answer, Charles.” 
“What do you want me to say? My best friend
from the hood was gay. When he came out I
was pissed, scared, but then I was eighteen. A
dumb ass kid with about as much common sense
as a grapefruit.” Charles laughed softly. “I finally
realized I wasn’t mad cause he was gay. I was
mad cause he had kept it from me. We were best
friends and I felt like he didn’t trust me.” 
Liam cleared his throat. “Alexander was the first
guy—the only guy—I ever loved. I swore it was 
just a college thing. You know—experimenting. 
I lied to myself. He was funny, smart, and so 
gorgeous.” Liam sighed as he took a sip of coffee. 
“He knew I was trying to hide who I was and it 
didn’t matter. Then one night we were headed 
home from a concert. One of my ‘friends’ figured 
out that Alexander and I were lovers. Him and 
his homophobic buddies decided to fix our fag 
asses—put the fear of God in us.” 
“Oh, God—Liam...,” Charles swallowed hard. 
Liam shook his head lifting a hand to silence his
partner. “It was just a fucking game to them. They
ran us off the road and the car crashed. Alexander
was thrown through the windshield.” His throat
convulsed for a moment, then he inhaled. “He died
in my arms, Charles. And all those pricks got were
a slap on the wrist. I mean after all—one less fag
in the world—who would miss him.” 
“Jesus Christ—man I’m sorry, Liam.” Charles
lifted his coffee taking a gulp. 
“That’s when I decided to go into law enforce-
ment. It was when I said not again, too.” Liam
sighed taking another drink of coffee. “Until to-
night. Shit, he’s no one—just a whore.” 
“No, he’s not.” Gunn lifted his briefcase up on
the table pushing his plate aside. Opening the 
case he pulled out a file. “Had CSI run our boy
Spike’s prints. William James Flatley reported
as a missing person ten years ago when he dis-
appeared from London at the tender age of
fifteen.” 
Liam took the file staring at it. “How?” 
“Amazing what you can get if you play nice
with the feds, Liam.” 
Opening the file Liam’s gaze lowered to the 
faded photo on top. A young boy with sharp
blue eyes filled with laughter looked back at
him. He traced one finger over the familiar 
cheekbones and sweet perfect lips. So sweet,
young, and innocent. A mop of wild golden,
brown curl fell over one eye only emphasizing
those beautiful eyes. 
“You can’t do this, Liam. And you know what
I mean. It’s a conflict of interest.” 
Raising his head Liam looked at Gunn with 
eyes filled with anger, sadness, and deter-
mination. He started to speak then his eyes
lowered again to the case-file—a tiny frown
marred his brow—reading. 
“What is it, Liam?” Suddenly Gunn’s stomach
squirmed. He had been partnered with Liam
for only a few months, but he knew that look. 
Something had clicked. 
“Flatley...,” Liam mumbled, “...his mother and
father owned Flatley’s Exotic Floral Imports &
Exports.” 
Gunn frowned. “Yeah—so what?” 
“Shit!” Sliding out of the booth Liam jumped to
his feet. Grabbing his trench he threw it on and
grabbed the file, heading for the door. 
“Woe, Liam!” Gunn was on his feet throwing
a twenty on the table and scrambling after his
obviously insane partner. “Where the hell are 
you going?!” 
“I don’t have time!” 
“God dammit, Liam! You will make time!” Gunn
growled. He reached out grabbing Liam’s arm. 
“Now tell me what the hell is going on!” 
Liam turned his eyes burning. “Black China roses!
Don’t you get it?” He yanked away. “This bastard
knows Spike!” 
“And where the hell did you get that from?” 
“It’s a message—a message to Spike! Christ, 
Charles his parents owned an exotic floral busi-
ness in London. Black China Roses would qualify 
as exotic! Not something that can be found easily.” 
“Are you saying what I think you are?” 
Turning Liam stormed from the diner yelling over 
his shoulder as he headed for his car. 
“Spike’s his next target!” 



Chapter 2

**** 

Cursing the storm that seemed endless Liam squinted
through the windshield. Westwood, he thought, Spike
had said he shared an apartment on Westwood with
Stephen Connery. If he was right he needed to get to
Spike before that freak decided to make his move. 
Next to him in the seat his cell rang and another flood
of curses exploded from him. Grabbing the phone he
slowed the car and hit talk. 
"Hanlon!" He barked. 
"Damn Liam! Where the fuck are you?" Gunn's voice
was tight on the other end. 
Liam rolled his eyes as he pulled over cranking the 
window down. Leaning out the window he peered
out through the sheets of rain at the street corner. 
"Westwood and...," he squinted, "...Holtz. I told you
I was going to go get Spike." 
Gunn snorted on the other end of the line. "No, you 
did not!" 
"Look...," Liam sighed, "...I need to...," 
"What you need is to get a grip, partner." 
"No---I need to find Spike." Liam growled as he 
cranked the window back up---shaking beads of
rain from his head. 
"That boy is not going to want to see you, Liam" 
Liam snorted. "Frankly I don't care what he wants." 
"That was kinda obvious when you slammed him
against the wall back at the precinct. You need to
stop right now or the shits gonna hit the fan." 
"Gunn do me a favor---back off. Please." Liam
slumped in the seat swiping droplets of rain
from his face. 
"Fine whatever. But just do me one thing." 
Sighing he reached out to shift into drive. "What?" 
"Wait until tomorrow, Liam. Go home, get a hot
meal in your belly, and for God's sake take a
shower." 
Liam chuckled. "Okay, Charles. I guess it can
wait. Tell Lilah I said hello." 
"No prob, bro'. Maybe if you behave yourself
she'll invite you to dinner Saturday. Night." 
"Night, Charles." 
Shutting off the phone Liam dropped it in the
seat with a grin. There was no way in hell he 
was waiting until tomorrow. Hitting the gas he
pulled out and made a left turn onto West-
wood. 
**** 
Pulling into the parking lot of the abandoned
factory Liam slipped out of the car. The rain
was starting to ease a bit, but it was still com-
ing down. If it hadn't been for the giant 'For 
Rent' sign he would have missed the address 
all together. Running for the main door he shook
the rain from his coat. 

Checking the door he noted there was no security
system, then with a tug he pulled the door open and 
stepped into the front hall. A large elevator with a
metal gate was to his left and to the right a row of 
freshly painted mailboxes. Not a bad place, he 
thought. Leaning in he noted the names on the 
mailboxes. 
Apartment 202-Connery. 
That would be Spike's place, he thought. 
Cautiously Liam pulled the gate open and stepped
into the elevator. With a jerk he slammed the gate
and pushed the up button. The elevator let out a 
groan, then jerked and started up. As it moved Liam
paced trying to figure out how to approach Spike. 
Gunn had been right about that. 
The whole fiasco back at the station wasn't going
to earn him any brownie points. Growling he slamm-
ed his fist against the elevator wall. 
"Son of a bitch!" Liam hissed in pain just as the ele-
vator came to a stop. 
Yanking the gate open he stepped out into the hall
and headed for 202. He had just reached the door
when he heard it. 
Someone was playing a guitar. That someone was
either Spike or he had a guest. Pressing his ear to
the door he could hear what was most definitely
Spike's voice---singing? 
"In the midnight of my rose garden, In the night-
mares of my troubled mind, I wonder." 
The soft honeyed voice flowed along his skin and
Liam found himself closing his eyes and focusing
on the song. 
"The grass between my toes, the twigs that brush 
my arms, the thoughts that flow though my curious 
mind, I wonder." 
Liam was swaying now lost in the voice, the music,
and the words. God, that voice, he thought, almost
a purr. Like melted, sweet butter or maybe fresh 
cream. 
"The beauty through my eyes, the way I see the 
world, I wonder." 
Liam let out a soft groan his hands splayed on the
smooth black metal. All he could think of was the
feel of that slender, muscled, warm body pinned
between the wall and his body. 
"God, what is wrong with me?" Liam mumbled. 
That was when the door suddenly opened and
Liam tumbled forward. 
**** 
"Blimey!" Spike yelped squirming beneath Liam's
rain soaked body. "You great bloody lummox! Get
off me!" 
Grinning from ear to ear Liam pushed himself up
one knee on either side of Spike's narrow hips. 
"What's wrong, Spike? Or should I say William?" 
Spike's eyes narrowed turning to azure ice in the
span of a heartbeat. "What the bloody hell are you
going on about?" 
"I know who you are Willie boy." Liam raised one
brow waiting for another bout of denial. "I know
you're from London; your name is William James
Flatley, and I know your parents own an import/
export." 
"Well, then you don't know jack you sodden 
bastard!" Spike snarled. "Now get off me or I
swear..." 
Snorting Liam pulled himself to his feet, then held 
out his hand to Spike. "You swear what? Call the
police? I am the police." 
Ignoring the proffered hand, Spike pulled himself 
to his feet turning away from Liam. "Get out. I
got nothing to say to you, Hanlon." 
Liam didn't even really hear what Spike had said
he was lost. Completely lost. 
From the moment Spike had stood his sleek body
moving with the grace of a dancer all he could think
of was how much he wanted Spike. All the blood 
had rushed from his brain and straight to his now
aching cock. He watched with lust filled eyes taking
in every detail of the man in front of him. 
The way he moved in those faded Levi’s that cupped
his perfect ass as if they had been molded for him and
him alone. The ripple of muscles in his back as he bent
over to pick up the pack of Camels from the makeshift
coffee table. 
"Did you hear me, luv?" 
Shaking his head Liam looked up into Spike's eyes. "I'm
sorry what did you say?" 
Spike rolled his eyes as he shook a smoke from the pack
and brought it to his lips. "I said I wanted you to bloody
well leave. But then you where busy checking out the 
goods---weren’t you, pet?" 
Liam's eyes narrowed. "What is it with you? I'm here to
help and all you do is insult me." 
"Yeah, I know." Spike winked as he lit the smoke. "I'm
sure it's an insult for me to suggest you might want me." 
Hands clenching at his sides Liam growled. "You are a
whore. I am a cop. Like I said if I wanted you there 
would be no money involved." 
"And how you figure that, detective? Planning on seducing
me?" Spike dropped to the sofa stretching out with a soft
purr. "Or you just gonna take what you want, mate?" 
"Who is he, William?" 
Spike inhaled, then exhaled---a swirl of blue smoke crown-
ing his head. "Told you---name's Spike. I don't know any
sodden William." Spike growled. 
Strolling across the room calmly Liam grabbed him and
yanked him to his feet. "Enough with the denial! I have
six---count them---six dead bodies in the fucking morgue
and you're going to be number seven!" 
"Are you threatening me?" Spike screamed as Liam
shook him. "You don't get it! Jazz is bloody well dead
because of me!" 
Suddenly Liam pulled Spike close. "Not because of you." 
He leaned in kissing Spike hard and deep. As he nipped
at Spike's lower lip his arms tightened around his squirm-
ing body. He lowered one arm to tighten around Spike's
ribs, the other lifted as he tangled his fingers in the plat-
inum strands of Spike's hair. 
Pulling back Spike gasp. "What the bloody hell?" 
"Just proving a point." Liam licked his lips. "I don't pay 
for what I want." 
"So that's the game now is it, pet?" Spike went stiff in 
Liam's arms. "Take what you want cause you have a
badge. Just like the rest of the lot." 
Liam dropped Spike to the floor with a snort. "When
you decide to get your head out of that sweet ass give
me a call." Reaching in his inside pocket he pulled out
a business card and tossed it on the floor next to Spike. 
"Bite me!" Spike snarled as he scrubbed at his mouth. 
Turning Liam headed for the door. "I plan, too." 
**** 
Spike stood in the shower letting the hot water rush
over his body. 
"Bloody bastard..." he grumbled as he tilted back 
his head the water splashing across his face as he
worked the shampoo into his hair. "Hate him. All
knowing nutter." 
In his mind he could feel those huge hands gripping
his arms, again. The touch burning his skin. 
"Get a grip Spike..." he told himself as he turned
letting the water wash away the shampoo as his hand 
drifted down his belly. "Just a pig---nothing, but a
bloody pig." 
Shivering despite the steam his mind drifted back 
to Detective Liam Hanlon. The broad shoulders,
the big hands---oh, God, he thought---touching
him, and the hard length he had felt brushing his
thigh through rain soaked slacks. Spike's hand
slid further down encircling his cock and he began 
stroking himself. 
"Bastard..." he moaned. 
His thumb slid across the tip of his quickly grow-
ing erection and he purred deep in his throat. 
"Hate you...God damn...hate you..." Spike let
out a whimper as his fingers tightened on his
aching flesh. 
He continued stroking his cock as he replayed
the scene in the living room, but this time it wasn't
a kiss that Liam had acted with. This time when
those big, rough hands grabbed him it was far
more. 
"Bloody fucker...I don't...don't..." his breathing
became shallow pants. 
Liam was bending him over the couch. 
Yanking his jeans down. 
"Oh, God...shit...don't want you..." 
Kicking his legs apart as he struggled. 
Spike began panting harder, leaning into the tile
wall. His fist tightened almost painfully on his cock,
the friction exquisite. "Bloody...bastard..."

He could hear the zipper slide down, then those
hands spread him open as he moaned. 
"...hate you...fucker..." 
Then the feel of that rock hard cock pressing 
against his opening---forcing its way inside him. 
"...ggggod..." 
He was being stretched open, filled up in one
swift stroke. 
Throwing his head back Spike screamed as he
came hard and fast. "LIAM!!!" 
**** 
Tossing and turning Liam woke with a start not
sure what had woke him. 
Liar, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. 
With a groan he rolled out of bed and moved to
the balcony doors that stood open. Outside the
last storm clouds were drifting across the sett-
ing moon. He closed his eyes leaning against 
the iron railing inhaling the rain filled air. 
"You're a fool..." he whispered, "...a damn fool." 
Eyes drifting open his gaze settled on the full moon
half hid by the ocean. It was a silver white like
Spike's hair---that silky hair---soft despite the wild
disarray of spikes. 
"Fuck..." he moaned as he felt his cock twitch. 
Shaking off the feelings of lust he moved back inside
sitting at the edge of the bed. His eyes settled on the
phone wondering what Spike was doing right now. 
Had he went back out? 
Was he even now lying in a bed, moaning as yet
another stranger fucked him? 
"Stop it, Liam. Just stop it." He reached over picking
up the phone as he glanced at the alarm clock. 
4:15 
Dialing the number from memory he waited as it
rang---once, twice, and thrice. Suddenly someone
picked up the phone. 
"Hello?" 
"Pryce it's me, Liam." 
There was the sound of rustling sheets and a faint
feminine mumble. He could here Pryce's voice as
he spoke soothingly to someone. 
"Give me a minute, Liam." 
Staring at the wall Liam sighed. 
"Okay, sorry about that. I had to switch phones." 
"It's okay. I'm sorry about the early hour, but I
need a favor." Liam scrubbed at his face. 
"Oh, a favor now?" Sarcasm dripped from Wes'
words. 
Groaning Liam ran his hand through his hair. "Look
what do you want from me, Pryce." 
"A little respect would be nice for one." 
"Look do you want to catch this fucker or what? I
don't care who takes the credit. Take it all---just
do this one favor for me." 
There was silence on the other end of the line. 
"Pryce? Wes?" 
A soft sigh escaped Pryce. "What do you need?" 
"A safe house. I need you to pick up Spike." 
"You mean Mr. Flatly has decided to cooperate?" 
"No, not yet. He will though---trust me." 
"When?" 
"First thing in the morning. Oh, yeah and I also 
need one other thing." 
"I knew it..." Pryce groaned. 
"I'm the only one who's going with him." 
"Fine. I'll see what I can do." 
Before Liam could reply the line went dead in his
ear. He stared at the phone before setting back in
the cradle with a sigh. 
"You can't have him..." he whispered, "...he's mine
now." 
**** 
"What the bloody hell is going on!" 
Pryce watched quietly as Spike paced the holding
cell---a cigarette dangling from his hand. Leave it
up to Liam to be late, he thought, then went back 
to scanning the file in front of him. 
"You are in protective custody." 
Spike paused snorting at Wes. "Protective custody
is it? This wouldn't be that bloody bastard Hanlon's
idea now would it?" He lifted the smoke taking a
deep drag---inhaling through his nose. 
Looking up Wes sighed. "Apparently Detective
Hanlon has come across something which he 
believes warrants this action." 
Rolling his eyes Spike took another drag. "I'm
sure he did..." he mumbled sarcastically. 
"Yes, I did." 
Both men looked up to see Liam standing in the
door way. He was dressed in jeans, a black 
turtle neck, and hiking boots. A leather bomber
jacket hung over his shoulder as he leaned on
the doorjamb. 
Spike growled stalking across the floor until he was 
mere inches from Liam. "And what would that be
you bloody twit?" 
"You know him." 
Throwing his arms in the air Spike turned on Wes. 
"Are ya hearing this load from the crapper?" He
turned back to Liam. "Bloody insane! You are
bloody insane! Don't you think if I knew the bas-
tard I'd have told ya? Jazz was me mate!" 
Liam calmly stared at Spike with narrowed dark
eyes. "Maybe I am, but I don't think so. That
crown of Black China roses is a message to you
even if you don't realize it. And frankly I'm not
taking any chances." 
"Bloody fuck all!" Spike screamed at the ceiling. 
Liam moved to where Wes was sitting. "What do
you have for me?" He straddled a chair. 
Reaching for his briefcase Wes popped it open 
and removed a thick manila envelope still sealed
tight. "Inside is all you'll need. Money, directions
to the safe house, keys, new identification for both
of you---everything. No one will know where you
are going or what the new identities are." 
"I bloody well am not doing this..." Spike hissed. 
Turning Liam met Spike's cold gaze with an equally
cold one. "You will. You have no choice. Whether
you know it or not you do know who this fucker
is and I will not lose---allow him to claim a new vic." 
A young female officer stepped into the holding 
cell holding a long, narrow box. "Excuse me---
Agent Pryce I have a delivery for a William in 
your care." 
Pryce and Liam exchanged a look. 
Standing Liam took the box. "Where did this come
from?" He growled. 
"I'm sorry, sir. The desk sergeant just said to take
this back to Agent Pryce..." she stuttered. 
"Fine." Liam turned back to the table dropping
the box. Rooting in his pocket he pulled out a 
pair of latex gloves from a sealed bag and put 
them on. 
Spike moved closer his face growing pale as
he watched Liam carefully open the box. 
Inside nestled in layers of tissue lay a dozen long-
stemmed Black China roses. 
"Shit!" Wes exclaimed. 
"Bloody hell..." Spike moaned as Liam lifted a
simple white envelop. "What the hell?" 
Liam glanced up first at Spike, then at Wes. With
a deep breath he opened the envelope and remov-
ed a card and scanned the neatly printed words. 
"What is it, Liam?" Wes spoke first. 
Clearing his throat Liam's gaze moved to Spike
and he began speaking---soft and even. "In the 
garden where once we loved did you betray me. 
Now we shall play one another's rolls. Reversed 
at last as I do seek justice." 
Spike swallowed hard his fists clenching. "Who?" 
Taking another deep breath through his nose Liam
sat the card back in the box. 
"What else is there, Liam?" Wes questioned. 
"It's signed." Liam whispered. 
Spike gritted his teeth. "Who signed the bloody card?" 
"It's signed---Judas."



Chapter 3

**** 
Liam glanced over at Spike as he drove along the 
Pacific coast, the top down on the Plymouth. He was 
actually feeling bad for the kid. The roses being 
delivered to the precinct had shaken him up pretty bad 
even if he refused to admit it. Hell, they had shaken 
Liam up as well and he hated to admit it. 
“You, okay?” Liam asked. 
Spike took another drag of his cigarette, and then 
pausing glanced at Liam. “Why wouldn’t I be you 
bloody git?” 
Letting out a frustrated sigh Liam shifted in the seat 
staring straight-ahead trying to focus on the highway 
instead of the ache between his thighs. “You know it’s 
okay to be scared---doesn’t make you any less a man.” 
Snorting Spike took another drag, then released a cloud 
of blue smoke that trailed out behind him in the wind. 
“Ain’t scared. Been taking care of myself just fine and 
dandy. Don’t need a bloody baby-sitter.” 

He pulled one leg up balancing his heel on the leather 
seat---arm folded on his knee where it poked through 
the worn hole in his jeans. 
“Yeah, you’re doing great.” Liam lifted a hand running 
it through his tousled hair. “Doing so great that your 
room mate was sexed up, then murdered by someone 
you know.” 
Spike flicked the smoking butt out of the car and turned 
to glare at Liam. “Fuck you,” he hissed through 
clenched teeth. 
Growling Liam jerked the wheel turning the car onto 
the shoulder of the highway and brought it to a 
squealing stop. “Get out.” His voice was low and rough. 
“Get out of the fucking car now!” 
Spike’s eyes widened. “Or what?” 
Without a word Liam was out of the car and storming 
to the passenger side. He didn’t even bother with the 
door he just reached in and grabbed Spike yanking him 
out by his tee shirt. Spike let out a yelp of shock as he 
was deposited on his ass in the dirt. 
“What the bloody hell?” He looked up into Liam’s 
furious eyes. 
“You want to take a shot, boy? Go ahead take a shot!” 
Scrambling to his feet Spike snarled. “Yeah, I want to 
take a shot! I’ve been wanting a shot at your arse since 
you slammed me into that bloody wall!” 
They began circling each other looking for all the world 
like two sides of the same coin---night and day. 
“Come on then, boy. Show me what you got.” Liam 
growled. “I want to see just how tough you are.” 
“Oh, you’ll see you pansy ass bastard!” Spike screamed 
as he threw a punch, which Liam ducked easily. 
Waving his hands at Spike---urging him closer---he 
laughed. “Come on, boy. Got to do better than that.” 
“Mother fucker!” Spike lunged forward his fist 
connecting with Liam’s jaw with a thud, and then he 
bounced back just barely avoiding Liam’s punch. 
Liam turned his head spitting blood to the ground and 
grinned as he looked back up at Spike. His gaze was 
dark---almost black---as he spoke. “Good shot---not 
good enough though.” 
Lunging forward Liam backhanded Spike hard enough 
to send him flying backwards. He stumbled and fell to 
his knees with a gasp. “Bastard,” he hissed as he spit 
blood. 
“Yeah, I am.” Grinning wide Liam began circling Spike 
like a wolf closing in on the lamb. “Always have been.” 
With a growl Spike pulled himself to his feet and began 
weaving. “I bet you ain’t never had a decent shag.” 
Spike let out a laugh. 
Before he knew what hit him Liam had tackled him to 
the ground, twisting his right arm up behind him, and 
gripping him by the back of his neck with the other. He 
grunted in surprise and pain, and then shivered as 
Liam’s warm breath teased his ear. 
Liam chuckled in his ear whispering. “Are you offering, 
boy?” 
Screaming Spike began struggling only to have Liam’s 
grip tighten. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He fought 
harder. “Just cause I’m a bloody whore doesn’t mean 
you can rape me!” 
Suddenly the pressure eased on his arm and at his neck. 
“Is that what you think? That I’d rape you?” The tone 
in Liam’s voice was angry and edged with what seemed 
to be sadness. “I’m a cop---not a rapist.” 
“Ain’t that what you want? Ain’t that what you all 
bloody think? Give a bit of power to you and you think 
you can have anything you want?” Spike growled. 
Liam released Spike and stood up walking away. “I’m 
not a monster. I’m one of the good guys.” 
Rolling over Spike lay quietly for a moment staring up 
at the clear blue sky. He wanted to hate Liam, he 
thought, he needed to hate him. “Are you?” He 
whispered as he sat up with a groan. “Or you trying to 
convince yourself?”

Liam’s shoulders straightened, and then he headed back 
to the car. Sliding into the driver’s seat he closed the 
door silently reaching over and turning the key in the 
ignition. As the engine turned over---purring smoothly 
like a giant cat---Spike watched him eyes filled with 
confusion. 
“Are you getting in or should I leave you here?” Liam 
asked as he leaned his forehead against the steering 
wheel. 
Taking a few steps towards the car Spike raised one 
dark brow and whispered. “Why? Why do you want to 
help me?” 
Liam raised his head and turned his eyes still hard, but 
now there was a flicker of warmth in them. “I told you 
William---I’m one of the good guys.” 
Shaking his head Spike moved even closer one hand 
caressing the polished metal of the car. “I don’t trust 
your bloody arse.” 
“Never said you had, too.” Reaching for the gear he 
shifted into drive. “Come with me or stay. It’s up to 
you.” 
Taking a deep breath Spike opened the door and slid 
into the passenger seat---eyes narrowing as he closed 
the door. “Like I have a choice.” 
“We all have a choice.” Liam turned away hitting the 
gas sending the Plymouth surging forward in a cloud as 
dust. 
**** 
Pryce wandered down the hall to the morgue whistling 
nervously as he walked. This was the one thing he had 
never become use to, but Winifred was helping. He 
couldn’t believe someone so beautiful could stand 
being locked away in what amounted to a meat locker 
filled with corpses---day in and day out. 
Stopping outside her office he took a deep breath and 
pushed the door open. On second thought perhaps it 
wasn’t the presence of the corpses, but rather the smell 
that made his stomach roll, he thought. 
“Hello, Agent Pryce!” Wes glanced up to see Joyce 
sitting at the desk typing at the computer. “Are you here 
to see Winifred?” She smiled softly, as his face turned a 
rosy pink. 
Wes cleared his throat. “Why, yes I am.” 
“She’s in Autopsy Room three.” 
Slipping off his coat Wes turned to hang it on the coat 
rack behind the door. “Would that perhaps be…” 
“Yes, it’s the Connery autopsy. She’s been expecting 
you.” Joyce continued typing furiously. “Make sure not 
to distract her to much.” She chuckled as Wes headed 
out the door. 
**** 
The road wound around the hillside, the trees closing in 
as they approached what would be their home until the 
killer searching for Spike either killed him or was 
killed. 
Taking a deep breath of salty air---edged with pine--- 
Liam slowed as they approached a gated road. Spike 
watched with curious eyes as Liam brought the car to a 
stop, exited the car, and headed to the rustic gate. The 
heavy wood gate---with its huge iron hinges---was the 
only break in the high stone wall hidden behind thick 
ivy. He wasn’t sure where he was and he didn’t 
particularly care. What he was worried about was what 
would happen once Liam had him trapped behind that 
wall. 
**** 
Standing in the doorway of William’s apartment he 
frowned, his eyes narrowing with anger. The boy was 
gone---his boy. 
Not for a moment had he thought that the annoying 
Detective Hanlon would try to take what was his. The 
boy had always been his and it pissed him off that he 
was gone now. 
Hanlon had no right to take his property. 
Wandering through the empty silent apartment his 
fingers trailed along the worn sofa, its velour smooth in 
spots. His eyes lifted his gaze settling on the guitar 
leaning against the mismatched chair, and the scattered 
music sheets with scribbled notes in black ink. A soft 
growl swelled from his throat ending in a hiss of air 
between clenched teeth. 
“You are mine, William. It matters not how far you run, 
nor how many years pass---you belong to me.” 
Reaching down with one gloved hand he lifted a sheet 
of music and began laughing as he scanned the words 
scribbled in William’s lazy scrawl. 
“Even now you remember my sweet boy. Soon you will 
be with me again and the bastard that took you shall be 
nothing but a distant memory.” 
With a soft laugh he turned and walked out. 
**** 
Spike stood staring at the house in front of him as a 
shiver traveled up his spine. His gaze drifted to where 
Liam was leaning against the car talking softly on his 
cell phone. 
Maybe he could run now, Spike thought. Maybe this 
was his chance to escape from this psychotic cop who 
was obsessed with him. 
His gaze moved around the front yard as he began 
slowly walking away from the car. The house was huge 
or at least huge by his standards. Its sides rose in a 
towering cliff of russet bricks only interrupted by four 
tall windows topped by stained glass. A high hedgerow 
ran from the corners of the house cutting off what had 
to be the backyard. 
Glancing back over his shoulder Spike moved quietly to 
where another gate broke the thick green hedgerow. He 
was within just a few feet when he was halted by 
Liam’s soft voice. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” 
Eyes narrowing he turned on Liam. “Bloody exploring 
what do you think, git?” 
Liam raised an amused brow. “Unless you can scale a 
ten foot wall I’d suggest you quit plotting your escape.” 
“Fuck you!” Spike snarled, and then made a run for the 
gate. 
“God help me,” Liam raised his eyes to the sky, “…this 
boy is going to drive me insane.” Then he took off at a 
dead run right behind Spike. “Get your ass back here!” 
Panting Spike followed the stone path past the gate and 
around the corner of the house. The back yard was a 
huge maze of hedgerows and Spike groaned in 
frustration as he dove through the first opening. There 
had to be a way out of here, he thought. 
“William!” Liam’s voice rose into the still air. 
Turning left Spike ran into a dead end and cursed 
beneath his breath. Behind him he could hear Liam 
cursing as he made his way through the maze. 
“Dammit William! I do not have time for this!” 
“I don’t either you big ponce,” he mumbled as he 
turned around and ducked through another opening. 
“Maybe I should have left you back on the side of the 
highway like the annoying pup you are!” 
Spike stopped and yelled over his shoulder. “I am not a 
bloody pup! Least of all yours you bastard!” 
Taking another right turn, then another left and he was 
sprinting out of the maze. Panting he stopped cold his 
eyes growing wide. 
That’s how Liam found him. Standing still, arms 
hanging limp at his sides, and his face dead white. 
Approaching Spike he circled around him. “William? 
What is it William?” Liam turned following Spike’s 
wide-eyed gaze, but he didn’t see anything unusual. 
At the center of the maze was a beautiful garden---a 
rose garden. A fountain stood as the centerpiece to an 
open stone area and roses surrounded the area. Roses 
in all the colors one could imagine deep reds, pale pinks, 
whites, and orange reds. 
Shit, Liam thought, why the hell had they sent them 
here? Running his hands through his hair Liam stepped 
in front of Spike. There was no way they could have 
known this was going to happen. What ever this was. 
“William?” Liam reached out his fingers curling around 
Spike’s upper arm. 
“…I’m sorry,” Spike whimpered softly. 
“William.” Grabbing his other arm Liam shook Spike 
gently. “What is it?” 
Suddenly Spike blinked and focused on Liam’s 
concerned face. “What the bloody hell?” He jerked 
away from Liam. “Don’t touch me ponce!” 
“Dammit, William, what happened?” 
“Nothing happened. Don’t have a sodden clue what 
you’re talking about.” As Spike turned away he shiver-
ed. “And don’t call me William. My name is Spike!” 
Liam shook his head as Spike walked away. He didn’t 
give a damn what Spike said---something was wrong. 
**** 
Gunn sat at his desk staring at his cell and wondering 
what the hell Liam thought he was doing. 
Taking that sassy mouthed whore into protective 
custody. Sighing he turned to his computer and began 
working on the report for the Connery crime scene. It 
was a pain in the ass having the Feds involved. He 
understood why Liam disliked them, but at the same 
time the VCU had sources the LAPD didn’t. 
“Hey, Gunn glad I caught you.” 
Turning Charles grinned. “Yo, Rosenberg my wicked 
little witch tell me those magic fingers got me 
something. I don’t have much faith in the rest of your 
gang down at CSI, but now you---hot little mama---I 
would trust with my life. 
The little redhead grinned as she dropped into the chair 
next to Gunn’s desk. “Where’s Mr. Broody?” 
Rolling his eyes Gunn propped his feet up on his desk 
with a shake of his head. “Damn fool seems to think 
that our witness is the next vic. Frankly I think he’s just 
horny for the bleach blonde punk.” 
Willow frowned. “He might be right, Charles.” 
“I know that face. What is it, Rosenberg?” 
Laying the folder she had been holding down on the 
desk she opened it. “We did some tests on the scarves 
used in the murders. Ms. Burkle’s assumption was 
correct. All the scarves were identical in design and 
color. I tracked that design down to a manufacturer just 
outside London.” 
Gunn’s brow shot up as he dropped his feet to the floor 
and leaned forward. “There’s that town again. Our 
witness is from London originally.” 
“The fingerprints that Tara ran through the database 
with the Feds and Interpol? Those belonged to the 
witness?” Willow’s frown deepened. “This witness 
Charles he wouldn’t happen to have attended,” Willow 
skimmed the page in front of her, “…Delphi Arts Aca- 
demy in London?” 
Twirling his chair around Gunn pulled a file from his 
in-box and opened it skimming the report he had 
received on William Flatley. “Shit---yeah was a student 
there when he disappeared ten years ago. Why?” 
“The scarves are made exclusively for the uniforms that 
the Delphi Choir wear at their performances.” 
“Shit, man!” Gunn growled. “What the hell has Hanlon 
got himself into?” 
**** 
Liam found Spike sitting on the hood of the Plymouth, 
a cigarette dangling from his fingers as he stared at the 
wall with vacate eyes. Whatever had happened in the 
garden had really shook the young man to his core. 
Rather than disturb Spike he moved to the front door 
and sat down on the stoop pulling out his cell. 
As he dialed Pryce's number his dark eyes settled on 
Spike and he sighed. God, the boy was beautiful, he 
thought, as the phone rang. 
"Pryce." 
"Yeah, Wes it's me---Liam." 
"Okay, what now, Hanlon?" 
"I need you to see if you can contact William's parents." 
There was a pause, and then Pryce cleared his throat. 
Liam frowned. "What is it?" 
"Hanlon I hate to tell you this, but Flatley's parents died 
in an auto accident a year after he disappeared." 
"Dammit," Liam hissed, "...I was hoping maybe they 
could help me out." 
"With what?" Wes' voice held a hint of curiosity. 
Liam glanced over to see Spike hadn't moved an inch. 
"You know what---I'll let you know when I know." 
Before Wes could answer Liam shut off the phone, 
tucking it away. With a sigh he stood and headed 
towards the car. "Spike?" 
The young man looked up eyes narrowed suspiciously. 
"Yeah, what?" 
Motioning to the darkening sky Liam popped the trunk. 
"It's getting dark. We need to get settled in and I don't 
know about you, but I'm starving." With a grunt he 
yanked the bags out of the trunk and slammed the trunk 
shut. "So shall we?" 
Spike slid from the hood of the car with a snort and 
tossed his smoke to the ground grinding out with his 
boot heel, then headed to the door. 
"Excuse me?" Liam growled. 
Turning Spike glared at him. "What?" 
"A hand, please?" Liam raised a brow, then nodded to 
the bags. 
Grumbling Spike stomped back to car and grabbed two 
of the bags. "Don't be bloody well getting us to having 
a slave-boy!" Turning he moved back to the door 
cursing beneath his breath. 
Liam rolled his eyes and followed Spike. 
**** 
An hour later Liam had showed Spike to his room, 
which of course Spike had to bitch and moan about 
because it connected to Liam's room. Standing in the 
bathroom doorway that connected the two rooms
Spike watched Liam unpack, a cigarette dangling from 
his lips. 
"Don't know why our rooms have to bloody well 
connect." He grunted as he lit the cigarette. 
"Because I'm in charge of making sure you're safe 
whether you like it or not." Liam slammed the dresser 
draw shut. Walking to the bed he reached in his duffel 
and pulled out a small leather case. "Come on let's get 
you fed." Liam headed for the door. 
"Ain't hungry, pet." 
Inhaling through his nose Liam turned. "Frankly I don't 
care. You are coming downstairs with me." 
Spike raised an eyebrow. "And what if I don't? Gonna 
shag me into submission Detective Perv?" 
Before Spike could react Liam had him pinned to the 
wall and yanked the smoldering cigarette from his 
mouth---crushing it in his fist. "If that's what it takes 
my little blue-eyed whore." He hissed through clenched 
teeth. 
"Yeah, that's what I thought you sodden prick." 
Dropping the crushed cigarette to the floor Liam 
yanked Spike around slamming him to the mattress and 
pinned him down. "You want me to fuck you because I 
will." He rubbed his hips against Spike's jeans clad ass. 
"You feel that, boy." He leaned in and licked the pale 
shell of Spike's ear. "Detective Perv wants that sweet 
ass." 
"Get off me! You bloody bastard!" Spike screeched as 
he writhed beneath Liam. 
"You know what? I bet when I left your apartment---
after I kissed you---you were so horny you jacked off. 
Am I right? Where was it?" 
"Fuck off!" 
"Was it on the sofa?" Liam leaned in closer nipping the 
vein that pulsed in Spike's throat. "Maybe the bed? No, 
I have it---the shower." 
Spike howled in fury fighting to dislodge the heavy 
weight on his back. 
"I'm right." Liam growled softly in his ear. 
"Get---off---me!" Spike bucked furiously until Liam 
released him and stood with a laugh. 
Flipping over Spike scrambled to the other side of the 
bed. "Bastard! You bloody fucking bastard!" 
Liam chuckled. "So your mouth says, but hey little
Willie says otherwise." He tilted his head staring 
pointedly at Spike's crouch. There was no doubt now, 
Liam thought, as his gaze moved over the outline of 
Spike's cock straining against the worn denim. 
"Sod off!" Spike stormed out of the room and headed 
downstairs---Liam's amused laughter drifting after him. 
**** 
"So what did Detective Hanlon want?" Fred smiled as 
she cracked open the ribcage of the corpse on the table. 
She glanced up through the goggles at Wes. 
Flinching at the crunching sound Wes shook his head. 
"I am honestly not sure." His nose wrinkled up as he 
watched Fred methodically peel back layers of muscle 
and fat. 
"Sometimes I worry about him." She shook her cap- 
covered head. "Since Kate was killed he's not been the 
sa...what's this?" Fred's eyes widened. 
Approaching the table carefully Wes removed his 
handkerchief from his pocket pressing it to his mouth 
and nose. His stomach tried to rebel as Fred turned to 
the tool tray and picked up a seal syringe. "What is it, 
Winifred?" 
Opening the syringe she leaned over the corpse and 
inserted a needle into the lung tissue pulling back the 
plunger slowly. "It looks like our latest victim wasn't 
strangled at all." 
Wes swallowed hard as he watched the syringe fill with 
liquid. "If he wasn't strangled, then how was he killed?" 
He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. 
"He was drowned." Drawing out the needle with care 
Fred lifted it to the light studying it with an odd ex- 
pression. 
"But that doesn't look like water." Wes swallowed 
again and fought the nausea in the pit of his stomach. 
"It's not---a bit thicker than water---maybe a chemical 
of some sort. I'll have to send this to the lab for 
analysis." Humming softly to herself Fred smiled as 
she capped the syringe. 
"So why would our killer suddenly change his MO like 
this?" Wes began pacing trying to calm his less than 
cooperative stomach. 
"I would be just guessing here, but I think this might 
have been unplanned. Perhaps something went wrong at 
the last minute or maybe..." 
"He's escalating." Wes finished her thought with a 
frown. "But why now? Why like this?" 
Fred giggled. "If you keep making that face Wesley it 
will stick." 
Wes glanced up gnawing on his lower lip and shot an 
eyebrow up. "Winifred please. I believe amusement is 
inappropriate at the moment." 
Blushing Fred shrugged her shoulder. "Sorry I forget 
sometimes that not everyone has my...well us 
pathologists we tend to...well...oh, poop!" She snapped. 
"You need to relax Wesley." 
Suddenly a light went on in Wes' eyes. "You are a 
bloody genius, Winifred!" Then he vanished through 
the door leaving Fred staring at the swinging door. 
"Yeah, they all say that." She sighed, then turned back 
to the corpse. "So Mr. Connery it looks like it's just you 
and me. Now let's see what other secrets you're hiding 
in there."



Chapter 4

*** 

Sitting at the kitchen counter Liam opened the small 
case he had brought down with him and began taking 
out the tools he needed to clean his gun. He needed this 
distraction from everything especially from what had 
happened upstairs. Carefully he removed the bullets, 
then systematically disassembled his weapon, but 
despite the familiar comfort of those actions his eyes 
drifted to the abandoned plates on the table. 
Spike had taken maybe three bites from the grilled 
cheese and the tomato soup sat congealing in the bowl 
untouched. A sigh of frustration escaped Liam as his 
fingers worked on automatic. No wonder the kid was so 
skinny he barely ate anything today, Liam thought. Of 
course the fact that he---Liam Hanlon---a man who 
professed himself to be a cop and one of the good guys 
had become not so nice. 
With a put upon sigh he sat the gun down his gaze 
drifting to the glass patio doors that led out to the stone 
courtyard behind the house. Sitting on the short wall 
that surrounded the courtyard was his charge; William 
or Spike as the young man preferred a bottle of beer in 
one hand and the other hand holding a cigarette. 
Standing Liam moved across the room---his own beer 
in hand---pushing open the door and stepping into the 
courtyard. His gaze drifted skyward as he took a pull on 
the bottle. Here far from the lights of the city the stars 
sparkled---innumerable---a blanket of silver lights that 
drew one’s imagination. 
“Beautiful night,” Liam whispered as a sat down next to 
Spike on the wall. “You forget about the stars in the 
city. All the lights shut out the stars.” 
Spike grunted as if in agreement, and then took a drink 
of his own beer. 
They sat like that silent for quite sometime, both of 
them staring at the stars and the waning moon in the 
eastern sky. What was going through Spike’s mind 
Liam couldn’t say and occasionally he would glance 
over at the man at his side. 
He was so fucking beautiful it made Liam’s heartache 
and his body sing like it hadn’t since Alexander’s death. 
“I’m sorry,” Liam whispered. 
Spike lowered his gaze from the stars and flicked what 
remained of his smoke to the stones. “For being a right 
bloody bastard?” His voice was low and smooth like 
sweet cream. 
“Yes.” Liam looked into Spike’s eyes. “It’s a hard life 
to deal with isn’t it?” 
Turning away Spike’s gaze focused on the hedgerow 
his eyes going vacant for a moment. There was a long 
drawn out silence, and then he spoke softly. “Ain’t that 
hard. Not any harder than some lives.” 
Taking a deep breath Liam stood stretching his back 
and popping his joints. “Look I know what kind of life 
a pro can have. I see it everyday walking the streets of 
LA---the broken dreams…” 
“What do you know about sodden dreams?” Spike 
asked his words edged with anger. 
Liam smiled as he turned to Spike. “I heard you sing.” 
Fumbling with the pack of Camels Spike shook one 
from the pack---hands trembling---bringing it to his 
lips. “So? What’s that got to do with anything, pet?” 
Sitting down again Liam shifted closer to Spike his lips 
curling in a sad smile. “You have a beautiful voice. It’s 
as beautiful as your face.” He reached out his hand 
brushing Spike’s jaw. 
A soft gasp slipped from Spike’s lips---his cigarette 
dropping to the ground---as he jerked away. “Don’t 
touch me!” He stood and walked back to the patio 
doors, and then paused. “Don’t touch me like that 
again.” Then he slipped inside leaving Liam staring at 
his back. 
*** 
Gunn trudged across the parking lot heading for his 
truck lost in thought. He knew that he needed to get in 
contact with the manufacturer of those scarves. There 
was no doubt in his mind that whoever their murder 
was he was connected either to the manufacturer or to 
the academy. 
“Charles!” 
He stopped looking up to see Pryce running across the 
parking lot waving his arm. 
“Yo, man,” he waved back, “…what’s up Pryce?” 
“I was just with Ms. Burkle and she found something 
quite interesting about Connery’s cause of death.” 
Gunn rolled his eyes and grinned. “So what did Ms. 
Burkle have to say about the victim?” 
Running a hand through his hair Pryce leaned against 
Gunn’s truck with a sigh. “Our killer is escalating. The 
last victim, Connery, he didn’t die of strangulation---he 
was drowned.” 
“Drowned?” Gunn’s brow shot up. “But the body was 
bone dry and there were marks on the throat that 
matched up with the previous victims.” 
“It appears Charles that our killer manipulated the body 
so it would reflect the previous victims. Whatever he 
was drowned in was not water. Ms. Burkle took a 
sample of the compound and sent it to the lab. The 
analysis should be complete by morning.” 
Gunn slammed his fist into the side of the truck and 
growled. “This is just fucking perfect!” 
“Look Charles I know Liam took Mr. Flatley to a safe-
house do you have any way of contacting him. I 
honestly believe he may be in danger as well as his 
charge.” Pryce scrubbed his face. 
“No doubt, bro’ the shit’s about to hit the fan. Willow, 
from the CSI unit, came to see me tonight. Turns out 
we have a little love-fest going with London.” 
Pryce frowned. “What did she come up with?” 
“Turns out the scarves the perp used to bind all the 
victims are manufactured by a company in London and 
the scarves are made exclusively for the Delphi Arts 
Academy. Two guesses who was a student at the 
academy and the first doesn’t count.” 
A sigh escaped Pryce as his head dropped. “William 
James Flatley.” 
“Bingo---give the fed a cookie.” 
*** 
Liam lay staring straight up watching the shadows play 
across the ceiling. Next door he could hear Spike 
tossing about in his own bed and he found his hand 
moving down his stomach---drifting along the soft 
cotton of his pajama pants---coming to rest on his 
aching cock. His eyes drifted shut and he sighed softly 
as he began stroking himself through the material. 
“William,” he whispered just beneath his breath. 
In his mind he could see his charge, his beautiful blue-
eyed whore stretched out on the bed next door. He 
imagined William was one to sleep nude, lying on his 
stomach, one hand flung across the tangled cotton 
sheets, and the other curled beneath the pillow that 
cradled his head. 
“Beautiful…so beautiful,” Liam slipped his hand 
beneath the waistband of his pajamas---fingers curling 
around his swelling erection. 
William would roll over looking up with that bottom-
less cobalt gaze, the sheet sliding down to bare his 
chest. A tiny smile dancing across his lips as he 
stretched out---muscles rippling beneath pale smooth 
skin. 
“God, I want you,” hand tightening around his cock 
Liam began thrusting into his fist. “Want you so much I 
can’t stand it.” 
In his minds eye William pulled himself to his knees 
then stalked across the tangled sheets to the foot of the 
bed where he stood. “Take me…take me if you bloody 
well can,” William smiled licking his lips. 
Back arching off the mattress Liam swallowed the 
moan that rose in his throat. “Yes,” he hissed softly. 
William was lying back stretching out on the mattress, 
his hair pure silver in the moonlight; his legs spread 
open, and inviting. He crawled up towards William 
growling in his throat. As he ran his hands over those 
long lean legs to where William’s own erection lay 
curled against his flat belly he sat up on his knees. 
“So fucking beautiful,” Liam moaned his eyes clenched 
shut as he fisted his erection tighter. “Never wanted any 
other person like I want you…” 
In his heart he knew that this would come to pass. This 
coupling that would bring him closer to the joy he had 
sought for so long. The need that he had hidden away 
since he had lost Alexander all those years ago. 
“Mine,” he whispered his voice rough with need. “My 
beautiful boy…my precious angel…” 
He could feel William’s legs wrapped around his hips; 
their mouths locked together in a bittersweet kiss as he 
pushed forward. Ensnared completely by his beauty, 
surrounded by the silken tightness of his body William’s 
soft cries echoed in his mind. 
Turning his head at the last moment Liam screamed 
into the pillow as he came hard. His warm seed soaking 
his pajamas and splattering across his chest. 
“Love you…love you,” Liam moaned into the pillow as 
tears ran down his face. 
*** 
He stood in the shadows watching the two officers of 
the law talking in low whispers. 
Officers of the law---what a joke, he thought. 
The only law to live by was not written by politicians, 
magistrates, or by anyone of this earth. The true laws of 
existence were simple. 
Kill or be killed. 
It was survival of the strongest. 
He had learned these laws at a young age. God 
provided for those who did not bow before the law of 
man. There was no law greater than the law of God and 
he was the disciple of that one true god. 
His eyes narrowed as he sneered at the two officers---a 
growl rising in his throat. 
“He was promised to me. He is the single blossom, rare 
and perfect. Designed for me and me alone. No one of 
this earth will stand between my rose and I---no one.” 
Turning---his coat swirling around him---he walked 
into the darkness whistling softly to himself. 
*** 
Standing in the bathroom his face flushed with 
embarrassment at his own need Liam swiped the mist 
from the shower off the mirror. 
“What are you doing, idiot?” he asked the man staring 
back at him. “He’s a whore, an annoying, smart ass boy 
who would rather die, than be with you.” The man in 
the mirror stared back with silent dark eyes. “Stupid 
bastard!” 
His fist slammed into the mirror splintering it into 
shards that still reflected his face back. Sometimes he 
wished he couldn’t see his own face---that it was erased 
so all the pain and years would be invisible. His gaze 
moved down to where tiny droplets of blood dripped in 
the sink basin. 
“Idiot,” he mumbled as he turned on the sink rinsing the 
blood from his hand. Turning the sink off Liam turned 
to go back to his room when he suddenly heard Spike’s 
voice through the bathroom door and he wondered why 
he was awake. Reaching for the fresh pair of sweats he 
pulled them on and opened the door slowly. 
“William?” He peered into the room and was shocked 
to find Spike’s bed empty. “Shit!” 
Running back to his room Liam grabbed his gun and 
headed down the stairs when he heard the patio door 
open. As he hit the bottom of the stairs Liam took a 
deep breath and for the first time since the night 
Alexander died he found himself praying. 
Quietly he moved down the hall to the kitchen the gun 
held tightly in both his hands. Beads of sweat dripped 
down his face as he paused outside the kitchen door. 
“William?” Liam called out. 
A few seconds of silence ticked by before he decided 
that if Spike was there and able he would answer. With 
a quick fluid motion he stepped into the room scanning 
from left to right---his weapon following his gaze. 
Nothing seemed out of place, but the patio door was 
open---a soft breeze stirring the pots that hung over the 
island counter. Heading for the door Liam felt as if his 
heart was going to rip its way through his ribcage it was 
pounding so hard. As he stood in the door scanning the 
courtyard Liam caught a glimpse of movement from the 
corner of his eye---a flash of silver white. 
“William!” Liam screamed leaping down the stairs and 
heading for the opening into the maze. 
What the hell was he doing, Liam wondered? 
Why would he be wandering out here? 
Moving through the yard---his bare feet whispering on 
the grass---Liam stepped through the opening into the 
maze trying to be as quiet as possible. As he walked 
through the shadowed maze he strained his ears only to 
catch a hint of Spike’s voice on the wind. 
“…Grass between my toes, the twigs that brush my 
arms, the thoughts that flow though my curious mind,” 
Liam’s brow rose as he followed Spike’s voice. Was he 
singing, he wondered? 
“…I wonder. The beauty through my eyes, the way I 
see the world,” 
Taking even breaths Liam crept closer his hands 
clenching the gun until his knuckles turned white. 
“…I wonder. The words upon this page, the way I write 
this way,” 
Finally Liam found the opening that led to the rose 
garden and suddenly his stomach began squirming. 
“…I wonder. The way I wake in morning, the way you 
look at night,” 
Spike’s voice faded out to be replaced by a sound that 
made Liam’s chest tighten. Stepping out into the rose 
garden his gaze moved among the roses until it finally 
settled on the fountain. 
“William?” He whispered.

Hunched at the base of the fountain Spike sat rocking 
back and forth whimpering softly. As Liam got closer 
he could see Spike’s hands were wrapped around a 
rose---it’s stem ragged where it had been ripped from 
one of the bushes. 
“William?” Liam flipped the safety on and tucked the 
gun into the waistband of his sweats. “William it’s 
Detective Hanlon.” He knelt down next to Spike. 
Spike looked up his eyes almost black in the darkness, 
tears trailing down his pale face. “He wa…was my 
friend,” his voice sounded so young---so filled with 
pain. “Why…why did he…” 
“Who William? Who was your friend? Connery?” 
Rocking harder Spike shook his head. “Can’t tell…no 
can’t tell,” his voice cracked as he squeezed the rose 
tighter the thorns tearing his hands. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Liam whispered his hands settling 
over Spike’s. “Go easy on that, William.” 
Another whimper escaped Spike as he scuttled back 
from Liam. “Loved the roses…loved the garden…took 
it from me…” 
Reaching out Liam caressed Spike’s tear slicked cheek 
with his palm. “The garden?” Liam’s eyes narrowed as 
he realized that Spike wasn’t really there. He was some-
where in the past lost and Liam’s gut told him that who-
ever he was talking about was possibly the killer. 
Spike’s voice suddenly rose in a wail as he crushed the 
rose in his fist---blood trickling through his fingers. “He 
promised he wouldn’t hurt me…he promised…” 
Liam pried the bloodstained rose from Spike’s hand 
tossing it to the stones beneath them. Leaning in he 
pulled Spike into his arms as the other man’s body 
began shaking. 
“Shhh…it’s okay, William. It’s okay you’re safe. I 
promise you.” 
Huddled there on the dew-dampened stone Spike curled 
into Liam’s embrace trembling as Liam rocked him. 
“He promised, too.” 


Chapter 5

*** 

Spike rolled over and moaned as the first light of 
morning danced across his face. “Bloody sunshine,” he 
grumbled beneath his breath. “No respect for us night 
creatures.” 
Shifting so his face was turned away from the window 
he let out a sigh as sleep began to descend over him. 
That’s when he felt the arms around him. Blinking back 
the sleepiness that seemed to clog his brain---as well as 
his eyes---he relaxed into the strong arms, and then it 
suddenly dawned on him. Those arms were very much 
solid---not a dream. Someone was holding him close, so 
close that he felt the person’s morning erection pressing 
against his ass. 
Suddenly he was wide-awake. 
“What the bloody hell?!” He began squirming inside 
the circle of those strong arms and the more he 
struggled the tighter the arms encircled him. 
“Hush…just me, William.” 
The feel of Liam’s warm breath at his ear sent a shudd-
er through Spike’s body and he growled in fury at the 
entire situation. “Let me go you sodding poof!” 
Instead of letting go Liam shifted rubbing against 
Spike’s trembling body. “Are you, okay?” Liam 
whispered sleepily. 
“Of course I am you bloody idiot!” Spike snarled his 
hands fighting with Liam’s as he tried to pull free. “I’d 
be even better if you’d get your sodding cock away 
from my arse!” 
Drawing his arms back Liam sat up as Spike rolled off 
the bed and grabbed for the pack of Camel’s on the bed 
side table. He watched with narrowed eyes as Spike 
lowered his head cupping the lighter, and then inhaled. 
Taking a deep breath he let his gaze move over Spike’s 
smooth muscled back as the younger man exhaled a 
cloud of blue-gray smoke. The silence was deafening in 
the room as Liam waited for anything---just one simple 
word---to ease the worry in his gut. 
Spike stood stretching like a lazy cat and took another 
drag off his cigarette, and then he turned looking at 
Liam with those cobalt blue eyes that drove---like his 
name---a spike through Liam’s heart. He studied Liam 
for a moment exhaling another cloud of smoke. 
“So what you bloody doing in my bed? Don’t right 
recall inviting your sodding arse.” He crossed his arms 
over his chest his eyes narrowing. 
“You were sleepwalking last night.” 
“Bollocks! Is that your way of seducing me? Sneaking 
into my bed at night, giving me this shit about sleep-
walking?” Spike began pacing. “Didn’t want to come 
with you, but you made me.” 
Sliding from the bed Liam walked to where Spike stood 
staring out the window. “You were in danger.” 
Spike snorted. “So you say you big lummox. So what if 
my mate happened to go with the wrong guy---happens 
in the business---part of the risks of being a whore.” He 
flipped the cigarette around studying the cherry-red 
glow of the tip. “Always is---bloody well always will 
be.” 
Liam leaned against the window with a sigh. “Wasn’t a 
load of shit. I found you in the rose garden if you don’t 
believe me, fine. I suggest you look at your hands 
though.” 
Raising a brow Spike turned to Liam, and then looked 
down at his hands. Across the pale skin he noticed the 
reddened scratches some of them deeper than others 
and already beginning to scab over. The color slowly 
began to drain from his face, his fingers going limp, and 
the cigarette dropping to the floor. 
“Tell me I’m lying now, William.” 
Spike shook his head. “Get out.” He turned on Liam his 
face pasty white slamming his hands into Liam’s chest 
with a roar. “I said---get out! Just get the bloody fuck-
ing hell out!” He continued slamming his fists into 
Liam backing him up to the door. 
Liam raised his hands in surrender. “William---please?” 
“My sodding name ain’t, William! It’s Spike you 
bloody bastard!” He shoved Liam through the door 
slamming it shut in Liam’s face. 
Standing in the hallway Liam stared at the door in 
shock as from behind the door he heard Spike’s voice 
faintly. 
“William is dead.” 
*** 
Liam stood at the island chopping peppers and onions 
as he muttered beneath his breath. 
“Damn ungrateful little bastard, “ his eyes narrowed as 
he chopped faster, “…should have left his pale, pasty 
little whore ass in LA. Left the fucker to die---see if I 
care!” The last word came out a roar as he turned 
throwing the knife across the room. With a thud it 
embedded into the wall. 
“Do you?” 
Liam’s gaze settled on Spike leaning in the doorway 
not two feet from where the knife still vibrated from the 
impact with the wall. He shook his head as he strode 
across the room and yanked the knife from the wall. 
“Do I what?” He snorted. 
“Care?” 
Moving back to the island Liam wiped the knife clean, 
and then started chopping again. “About what?” 
Spike strolled across the room as Liam looked up from 
the cutting board. Damn that boy, he thought, he moved 
like liquid mercury. 
“Me? Can’t begin to understand how a man like you 
could possibly care a bloody pence for a whore like 
me.” 
Setting the knife aside Liam turned his back and moved 
to the refrigerator opening the door. His gaze moved 
through the contents as he spoke. “I wish you wouldn’t 
call yourself that.” He grabbed eggs, milk, and then 
considered the cheese as if it were a crime scene photo. 
“It’s what I am, luv. No need lying to myself.” Spike 
fished a cigarette from the crumpled pack in his tee-
shirt pocket. “Been a whore for a long time---pays the 
bills and feeds me right and proper.” 
Liam swallowed hard as he picked up a package of 
Italian blend cheese, and then turned kicking the door 
closed with a booted foot. “It’s not who you are---it’s 
what you do.” He mumbled as he dropped the food to 
the counter then moved away to find a bowl. “There’s a 
difference, William.” 
Behind him Spike shivered at the way he had whispered 
his given name. “And what is it I am then, pet?” 
Pulling out a mixing bowl Liam pushed the door closed 
gently leaning his forehead against it trying to collect 
his thoughts. “An artist---a singer with a voice like…” 
“What?” Spike asked as he lit the smoke---staring out 
the glass doors at the muted morning light. 
“Like…” Liam swallowed again, “…like an angel.” 
Spike’s brow rose as he turned back to Liam---watching 
the other man stand---then sighed. “Makes one person 
in the damn world that thinks I have bloody talent.” 
Retrieving a whisk from the utensil draw he turned 
back and studied Spike with serious eyes. “You do have 
talent---you’re better than…” 
“What? Being a whore? Bending over for every rich, 
scum bastard in Hollywood? Bastards so scared of 
losing their sodding careers they’d rather screw a 
stranger in a dark bathroom than just admit what they 
bloody well are?” 
Spike inhaled and closed his eyes his hard features 
softening for just a moment as his thoughts drifted and 
Liam could see again the young boy that had been in 
that photo. A beautiful blue-eyed boy who had the hope 
of the future gleaming in his eyes---hope for his 
dreams. 
Reaching for the eggs Liam began cracking them into 
the bowl as he watched Spike sway to a song he could 
only hear. Why would any one want to hurt this 
beautiful man, Liam wondered? He was so perfect---so 
fucking beautiful. 
“Thought so once. Had bloody dreams, but no more.” 
Spike opened his eyes and for a moment Liam could 
have sworn he saw tears shimmering on the surface. 
“Dreams should never die,” Liam whispered, as he 
looked deep into Spike’s eyes, “…never.” 
*** 
Gunn was juggling his briefcase and a tray of lattes for 
the girls in Records as he made his way to his desk 
cursing beneath his breath. As he dropped his briefcase 
he looked up to see a stranger sitting in the chair next to 
his desk. What the fuck now, he thought, as he carefully 
sat the tray of cups on his desk. 
“Can I help you?” 
The man stood and held out his hand. “Allen Doyle, sir. 
Agent Pryce said I could find you here. I hope that’s 
fine, sir.” 
Raising a brow Gunn offered his hand back. “Detective 
Charles Gunn---what can I do for you?” He settled back 
in his chair studying the man further. 
“I’ve worked with Agent Pryce on a number of the 
cases and he was thinking that I might be of some help 
now.” His rich brogue was almost lulling and hypnotic. 
“And exactly what is it you do Mr. Doyle?” Gunn 
crossed his arms leaning back in his chairs. 
A bright smile lit up the other man’s blue eyes. “Doyle 
is fine detective---all me friends call me that. I’ve a bit 
of the gift.” His smile faded and he sighed at Gunn’s 
blank expression. “You know? I see things.” 
Gunn snorted as he sat up, and then stood. “Well I wish 
I could say it was nice meeting you, but not happen-
ing.” He picked up the tray of lattes and turned to go 
yelling over his shoulder. “Tell Agent Pryce thanks, but 
no thanks.” 
“Detective Gunn---hear me out at least.” Doyle stood 
moving quickly after Gunn. “I know it’s a bit of a 
hardship now to be believing in the things I do, but you 
need me.” 
Pausing in the middle of the hall surrounded by the 
bustle of officers, lawyers, and suspects Gunn cursed 
beneath his breath, and then turned to Doyle. “Look I 
don’t know what Pryce told you, but the last thing we 
need on this case is a fucking…” 
Doyle’s face suddenly went pale and he swayed as he 
turned searching the crowd of people. “He’s here.” 
“Excuse me? Oh, no fucking way! I ain’t buying this 
crap!” He turned heading down the hall leaving Doyle 
where he stood. “Dumb ass Fed what the hell was 
he…” 
“My love for you…your love for me, I wonder…” 
Gunn stopped dead where he was at the change in 
Doyle’s accent. Now it was a cultured British accent as 
he sang softly. Turning his eyes widened as Doyle 
looked straight at him and spoke softly. 
“A single blossom, rare and perfect. Designed for me 
and me alone,” Doyle chuckled his eyes narrowing, 
“…foolish Bobbies thinking they have a chance. No 
one will take my sweet boy from me.” 
“What the fuck?” Gunn’s hand opened and the tray of 
lattes hit the floor splattering across the faded tile. 
“He’s here,” Doyle moaned in his own voice as his 
knees buckled beneath him and he came crashing to the 
floor. 
*** 
“Dammit Charles! I do wish you could hold your 
temper. I was on my way back to explain when what do 
I find, but a bloody mess!” 
“Psychics, Wes---psychics! What in the fuck were you 
thinking?!” 
“I was thinking perhaps we could use some help on this 
case, but apparently you are as hard headed as bloody 
Hanlon is! Allen is a sensitive of the highest order and 
his rate of hits is quite high. Ninety-five percent to be 
precise and he has worked with the Bureau as well as 
Interpol and a number of organizations.” 
Doyle groaned as he sat up blinking. “Could you be a 
bit quiet now lads? Me head feels as if an elephant of 
the highest order has bleedin’ well sat on it.” Swinging 
his legs over the couch he sat up swaying for a moment 
as the room spun wildly. 
Moving to the couch Wes sat down next to Doyle 
offering a glass of water and two tablets of Tylenol to 
the pale faced man. “How are you Allen?” 
“Like I’d been up all night partying with the lads. Shit, 
Wes he was here.” Doyle took the proffered tablets and 
tossed them back. 
“Who was here, Allen?” Wes frowned as he watched 
Doyle finish off the glass of water. 
Rolling his eyes Doyle turned to Wes. “Who do you 
think I’d be talking about now? The bastard was right 
here in the precinct. Walked right by me he did.” He 
glanced up to where Gunn was pacing the floor of the 
break room. “I know you don’t want to be believing me 
detective, but it’s true. When it comes to such things as 
murder I’m not one to be spreading the blarney---now 
the lasses are a wee bit different.” He chuckled softly as 
he lay back against the cushions closing his eyes. 
“How in the hell could he get past the cops in here? 
Why would he come here at all?” Gunn fumed. 
Doyle opened one eye chuckling which only made 
Gunn grind his teeth harder. “He’s friends with 
someone here---intimate friends.” 
“Fuck me!” Gunn growled turning away rubbing his 
hands over his head. “That’s just what we need!” 
“It’s worse than that isn’t it, Allen?” Wes questioned 
his wide blue eyes sharp behind his glasses. “What 
haven’t you told us, Allen?” 
Shaking his head Doyle sat up running his fingers 
through his dark hair. “Aye, it is.” 
“What? What could be worse?” Gunn demanded as he 
flopped into the chair across from the other men. 
Doyle turned a frown marring his brow. “He knows 
where your Detective Hanlon and your witness would 
be staying.” 
“That’s impossible,” Wes’ mouth gaped open like a 
guppy searching for air, “…no one knows…” 
“Thirty miles outside LA. House is off the Pacific Coast 
Highway outside of Citrus Grove---a wee farming 
town. It’s in the mountains.” 
“Son of a bitch,” Gunn groaned. 
“He’ll be on his way lads. He don’t take kindly to 
others taking his beautiful boy from him.” 
*** 
Liam sat across the table sneaking glances at Spike as 
they ate. He felt like beating himself over the head with 
the most convenient blunt object after their conversa-
tion. He had said more than he had meant to, but he was 
the king of swallowing his foot most days. 
Across the table Spike was poking at the remainder of 
his omelet thinking basically the same thing. He hated 
this whole situation more than he cared to admit. 
Spike’s thoughts drifted to waking up in Liam’s arms 
and he hated it---he hated himself. He’d never needed 
anyone in more years than he could count. He did what 
he had to for his own survival. Pushing back the plate 
he stood reaching for the cigarettes in his pocket. 
“I have something for you.” 
Turning back to face Liam a frown creasing his brow
Spike snorted. “Another helpful bloody tidbit on how 
I’m not a whore?” 
Liam shook his head and silently stood. “That first 
night I heard you sing I decided I had to protect you 
from that bastard.” He moved back into the kitchen
And called out over his shoulder. “I also knew that you 
deserved better than a second hand acoustic guitar that 
had seen better days.” 
Lifting a brow Spike wandered into the kitchen curious 
where the hell this little love-fest was leading, too. He 
could hear Liam rattling around in the pantry and a 
couple of muffled curses. 
“Don’t know what you think you can do, pet. If you 
think I’m going to crumble at your feet in awe at your 
generosity you’d be sadly…” 
Stepping out of the pantry Liam held out something that 
stopped Spike mid-rant. His eyes widened as he moved 
closer his heart thundering wildly. 
“No, bloody way in hell!” His hands shook as he reached 
out and stroked the smooth sleek lines. Lifting his wide 
gaze to Liam he whispers softly. “Do you have any idea 
what this is? This is a sodding…” 
“Fender Stratocaster.” Liam couldn't help the tiny smile 
that curled his lips as Spike looked at him in awe. “Hey 
I’m a cop---not stupid. Hendrix was the greatest fucking 
player on the planet.” 
“I can’t take this,” Spike stepped back shaking his head, 
“…it’s bloody well too much.” 
Liam frowned, and then sat the guitar gently on the 
counter. “The rest of the set-up is in there,” he tilted his 
head back towards the pantry. Take it or leave it.” 
Moving past Spike he headed out of the kitchen and 
upstairs leaving Spike, open-mouthed and staring at his 
back. 
*** 
Liam was stretched out in a chair next to the balcony 
doors in his bedroom. In his lap was a leather bound 
volume of Irish folk tales by Yeats that he had been 
trying to read. The tales reminded him of his mother 
who had been born in Ireland as his father had been, but 
he had never seen Ireland. He had been born in the States 
after his parents had immigrated. 
Reading them had always relaxed him before, but now 
he couldn’t focus no matter how hard he tried. All he 
could think of was Spike. Damn the boy to hell, he 
thought, as he lifted the book again. Every time he 
turned a page he felt as if he had accomplished nothing. 
Setting the book on the table next to him he sighed and 
pulled himself to his feet. “Little whore,” he grumped, 
“…little annoying…sexy…blue-eyed whore.” He let 
out a groan of frustration as he headed for the bathroom 
in search of a cold shower. 
As he opened the door he heard it---faint and ghostly---
and he turned back walking to the balcony doors. 
“Why am I doing this to myself?” Liam mumbled as his 
hand drifted to the latch. 
Pushing open the doors he stepped out onto the balcony 
and sighed as he heard the faint notes drifting on the 
wind that stirred his hair. Leaning against the iron 
railing he closed his eyes and strained his ears. As the 
notes rose up so did Spike’s voice in a rich bitter 
sweetness that made Liam’s heart ache in longing. 
In the midnight of my rose garden, 
In the nightmares of my troubled mind, I wonder. 
The grass between my toes, the twigs that brush my 
arms the thoughts that flow though my curious mind, 
I wonder. 
The beauty through my eyes, 
The way I see the world, I wonder. 
The words upon this page, 
The way I write this way, I wonder. 
The way I wake in morning, 
The way you look at night, I wonder. 
Liam’s breath caught in his throat as he listened to each 
word. Such loneliness and pain, he thought, as his eyes 
drifted open. How could he exist with all that pain 
inside him, Liam wondered? 
Turning he moved back into the bedroom and down 
stairs the words of Spike’s song echoing in his ears. 
*** 
Spike hadn’t wanted to accept this gift, but it was like 
the forbidden fruit---something he had longed for---in 
the Garden of Eden. 
He had hauled the set-up out to the one place he felt a 
connection with in this house. As he unpacked the 
equipment he smiled like a child at Christmas. Liam 
had gotten everything that he could have possibly 
needed including a x-Power portable power pack. 
Now he was sitting in the rose garden on the edge of the 
fountain his fingers caressing—making love---to the 
sweet instrument in his arms. His voice lifted as he 
sung the words that came to him as he played. 
My love for you, your love for me, I wonder. 
I wonder why I wonder,
But what’s life without wonder---I wonder? 
As the chords vibrated beneath his fingers he closed his 
eyes and listened to their echo. 
“Who hurt you, William?” 
Jerking Spike turned and looked at Liam with glittering 
eyes. “What makes you bloody well think that?” His 
voice cracked with suppressed anger. 
Liam moved across the stone courtyard his eyes never 
moving from Spike’s face. “Because,” he reached out 
lifting the guitar from Spike’s trembling arms, “…I’m 
an observer of people, because a person untouched by 
pain would have never written those words,” Liam sat 
the guitar carefully to the side, “…and finally because I 
know pain far better than you think I do.” 
Leaning further in Liam’s eyes glittered darkly as he 
grabbed Spike’s arms yanking him to his feet, causing a 
gasp to escape Spike as he was pulled closer. 
“What the bloody hell…” 
“Just shut up,” Liam growled as his mouth closed over 
Spike’s. 
Squirming Spike tried to pull away, but Liam was 
damned tired of fighting the boy. He knew that Spike 
wanted him no matter how much he might deny it and 
he knew---for damn sure---he wasn’t going to wait a 
moment longer. 
His tongue darted out sliding over that sweet mouth that 
had refused to do anything, but push him away with 
foul words and veiled threats. Liam drew Spike’s lower 
lip into his mouth sucking, and then biting until a groan 
escaped Spike’s trembling body. 
Yanking back Spike yelped as Liam’s teeth broke the 
delicate skin along his lip. “What in the sodding name 
of all that’s holy?” He pushed out at Liam in anger and 
just a tad bit of fear. As he backed up the back of his 
knees hit the fountains edge and he lost his balance. 
Mere seconds later he was tumbling backwards into the 
fountain, cursing as the icy water soaked through his 
jeans and tee shirt. As the water closed over his head he 
could hear Liam laughing and he wanted to smack the 
bloody hell out of him, he thought. 
Suddenly a strong hand grabbed his flailing arm and 
yanked him above the water. Coughing he looked up at 
Liam with furious eyes. 
“Bastard! You bloody bastard!” Grabbing Liam’s free 
arm as if to pull himself up he flashed a smirk at him, 
and then promptly yanked him into the fountain with 
him. The look of surprise on Liam’s face was priceless. 
“Son of a…” 
Liam’s curse was cut off as his head disappeared be-
neath the water and Spike rolled to the side laughing 
hysterically. Struggling to the edge of the fountain he 
shook his head as he pulled himself to his feet only to 
feel Liam’s arms encircle his waist and pull him back 
wards against his body. Letting out a yelp he fought the 
firm grip twisting and squirming. 
“You sodding idiot! Let me go!” Spike screamed. 
Liam’s warm breath caressed his ear sending a shiver 
down his spine. “Not this time my beautiful boy…” 
The next thing Spike knew he was being twisted around 
and Liam’s mouth engulfed his---his warm tongue 
teasing and demanding entrance. A deep moan slipped 
from Spike’s parted lips and Liam’s tongue slid past 
delving deep into the warmth of his mouth. 
Huge hands slid down his water slicked back and 
cupped his ass pulling his hips forward. Another moan 
rose in his throat as he felt the hard outline of Liam’s 
cock straining against his own growing erection. 
At that moment Spike knew he had lost all sense of 
control. Liam’s hands moved back up to the waistband 
of his jeans and tugged frantically at Spike’s tee shirt as 
their tongues danced in a fury. Pulling back gasping for 
air Spike looked into Liam’s eyes and yanked his shirt 
over his head tossing it onto the stone courtyard. 
“What do you want…?” Spike purred as he reached out 
tugging at Liam’s shirt. 
Liam’s lips twitched with a tiny smile. “I want you---I 
always have.” He growled. 
“How much?” Spike purred. 
“More than you could ever know.” 
Spike chuckled. “No, you silly poof---how much you 
paying?” 
Liam’s eyes darkened in a mix of fury and lust. “I don’t 
want the whore!” He growled as he grabbed Spike’s 
arm. “I want the man---the beautiful blue-eyed boy with 
the voice of an angel!” 
Rolling his eyes Spike clambered from the fountain. 
“There isn’t a boy. There’s only the whore and the 
whore gets paid.” 
Liam pulled himself from the fountain his eyes 
narrowing in fury as he grabbed Spike’s arm whirling 
him around. “Fuck that shit!” 
“What the hell did you think?” Spike’s eyes went cold. 
Snorting Liam yanked him off his feet and tossed him 
over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. “What I know is 
I’m done playing games!” 
Kicking and twisting Spike cursed Liam for the 
ignorant bastard he was. “Put me the bloody fuck 
down! I’m not doing this and you can’t make me!” He 
howled furiously. A yelp swelled in his chest as Liam 
smacked his ass. “Leave my bloody arse alone!” 
“It’s not your ‘arse’ any more---it’s mine boy! And you 
would do well to remember that!” Liam chuckled as he 
made his way back to the house through the maze. 
*** 
The trip up the stairs was anything, but simple. 
Spike apparently had to play the game out to it’s fullest 
and annoy Liam to no end. He screamed and howled 
like a banshee, not to mention the various ways he 
questioned Liam’s parentage. All the while his legs 
flailing and his fists beating at every inch of Liam he 
could reach. 
When he reached his bedroom Liam kicked the door 
open and tossed Spike onto the bed like a sack of 
potatoes. He slammed the door shut and turned back 
with an evil grin to see Spike---dripping wet---crouched 
on the bed like a pissed cat. 
“I ain’t doing this you---you bloody son of a whore!” 
“Oh, cut the shit, William!” Liam moved to the bed 
reaching into the bedside table. “I’m tired of this 
elaborate dance we’ve been doing. I want you. You 
want me and it’s that simple.” 
“Bollocks!” Spike growled. “I want you to stop think-
ing you can have what isn’t bloody well free!” 
Liam lifted his hand from the draw of the bedside table 
a pair of handcuffs dangling from his finger. “We can 
do this easy or we can do this hard? What is it going to 
be, William?” 
Eyes narrowing Spike growled. “Fuck off, poof!” 
With a deep breath Liam shook his head. “Hard, then I 
guess.” 
Diving on the bed Liam pinned Spike to the mattress 
and the fight began. Spike was a limber little fuck, 
Liam thought, as he tried to pin his arms down. Spike’s 
hand came up hitting Liam in the jaw as Liam straddled 
his hips pinning his lower half. 
Spike roared bucking his hips. “Get off you great 
lummox!” 
Stretching out Liam rubbed his body along Spike’s and 
chuckled as he lowered his lips to Spike’s ear. “That 
beautiful mouth says no, but,” he ground his crotch 
against Spike’s, “…that sweet cock of yours screams, 
yes.” He clicked one cuff around Spike’s left wrist. 
“Bloody well go fuck yourself!” 
Liam clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth 
and smiled as he yanked Spike’s arm above his head 
thread the cuff through the bedstead. “Not planning on 
that my nasty mouthed little whore.” He grabbed 
Spike’s other wrist and fought until the cuff was firmly 
in place. 
“Bastard!” Spike screamed twisting beneath Liam and 
rattling the cuffs. “Knew you’d do it this way. Can’t 
bloody well take no for an answer.” 
Chuckling Liam sat up tugging his dripping shirt over 
his head and tossed it to the floor. Spike’s eyes went 
wide and his breath caught just a bit in his throat. 
“Like what you see---do you now?” Liam’s soft growl 
was thick with arousal, his eyes sharp and glittering in 
the dimness of the room. “You see my sweet boy I can 
take no for an answer that is if it’s a true no.” 
Reaching up he curled his fingers around Spike’s wrists 
and began rubbing his thumbs in gentle circles over the 
pulse points. A soft whimper escaped Spike and he 
squirmed beneath Liam’s weight. 
“I don’t want you---don’t want you.” There was no 
truth in his words now, but his gut screamed to still 
fight with every breath. “You’re a bastard---a sick 
twisted bastard,” he moaned as Liam’s hands ran down 
his arms. 
Liam leaned in his mouth close to Spike’s ear and 
whispered softly. “Tell me---tell me what you want.” 
“Want you to let me go.” Spike groaned as Liam’s 
tongue darted out teasing the curve of his ear. 
“Is that what you really want?” Liam breathed against 
the damp skin of Spike’s throat as it convulsed. “I’m 
not him---not him my sweet Will. I won’t hurt you. I 
would never hurt you.” His lips grazed against the vein 
pulsing beneath the pale smooth skin. 
Another moan escaped Spike’s lips as he turned away 
his eyes clenching shut. “Don’t bloody well know what 
you’re talking about. No, one hurt me.” 
Slowly sliding down Liam left a trail of hot kisses along 
his collarbone. “The one who took your dreams away, 
Will. The one who made you think you weren’t deserv-
ing of love.” Each word he spoke was punctuated by a 
kiss down Spike’s chest. “You can’t lie about it any-
more my beautiful boy.” 
Spike growled softly pushing his chilled skin against 
Liam’s warm lips. “Didn’t happen,” he snarled, “…no 
one hurt me---bloody well swear.” 
Caressing Spike’s arms Liam looked up with dark, 
passion-dilated eyes. “Dreams should never be 
shattered, Will. And no matter what you think---you are 
deserving of love.” 
Spike turned his head shivering as his eyes opened and 
he took a ragged breath. “This isn’t love, pet.” 
Liam smiled softly as his gaze took in Spike’s flushed 
cheeks and tangled wet curls. “It will be.” His mouth 
lowered over one dusky pink nipple and he nipped 
gently. 
“God…shit,” Spike moaned his hips lifting off the bed 
grinding against Liam’s flat stomach. “Wh…why in 
sodding Christ’s name?” 
“Because you’re beautiful,” Liam blew softly against 
Spike’s nipple watching it harden. “Because I’ve given 
up on a lot in my life, but I won’t give up on you.” 
Setting up---astride Spike’s hips---Liam ran his hands 
down along Spike’s heaving rib cage. He mapped each 
inch of porcelain smooth skin and he growled in anger 
at the thought of anyone else doing this. Spike was his 
now and damned if he would let him go. He had let his 
own fear cost him Alexander---he wouldn’t allow it to 
take this second chance. 
His thumbs rubbed roughly across Spike’s nipples and 
he smiled as a soft purr rippled through the perfect body 
beneath his hands. 
“Beautiful blue-eyes,” Liam groaned as his hands 
moved in gentle strokes down along Spike’s stomach, 
his fingers hooking in the wet waistband of his jeans. 
“Do you want me, Will?” 
Spike’s intense cobalt eyes focused for a moment as he 
licked his lips slowly. “No, I don’t want this. I don’t 
want you---I need you.” He groaned lifting his hips. “I 
bloody well need you inside me.” 
It was enough, Liam thought, at least for now. 
Popping the button at Spike’s waist he fingered the 
seam along the zipper, relishing the feel of the pulsing 
flesh trapped beneath the damp denim. Warm, sweet, 
hard flesh beneath his hand that screamed for his touch 
silently as he caressed it. 
“God, Liam,” Spike moaned and squirmed, “…do it 
please…bloody hell.” 
He gripped the zipper tab and slowly slid the zipper 
down revealing inch after inch of pale flesh. Grinning 
wide Liam shook his head in awe as he peeled back the 
heavy wet material. 
“You’re perfect,” Liam whispered, “…perfect and 
beautiful.” He wet his suddenly dry lips as he pulled 
Spike’s jeans down over his hips releasing his erection 
from its tight confines. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he 
moaned. 
Spike groaned as Liam released his cock from the 
soaking wet material. “Bastard…bloody hell…please, 
Liam.” He shifted his hips as his jeans slid over the 
curve of his ass and down to his ankles. 
Liam yanked them off and tossed them to the floor 
sitting back on his heels. “Fucking work of art,” Liam 
growled, “…Michelangelo’s David.” 
Writhing against the cuffs Spike whimpered and 
moaned as Liam’s gaze moved from the top of his head 
to the tip of his toes. “Please…please…” 
“Please what beautiful boy?” Liam’s voice lowered to a 
honeyed whisper. 
“Touch me,” Spike gasp. “Please just sodding touch 
me.” 
“I will.” 
Liam’s eyes glittered as his hands settled on Spike’s 
trembling thighs, pushing until his legs parted. Stretch-
ing out between Spike’s legs he lowered his mouth 
peppering tiny nipping kisses along the inside of his 
thighs---his eyes never leaving Spike’s face. 
“Bloody mother of God,” Spike whimpered beneath his 
breath. 
With a chuckle Liam continued nipping until his mouth 
hovered over Spike’s twitching cock. His tongue darted 
out sliding over the heated flesh causing Spike’s hips to 
jump and spasm against the mattress. “Is this what you 
want my beautiful boy? Do you want me to taste you?” 
“Yes! God…fuck…please!” Spike’s heels dug into the 
mattress his body trembling as he wailed desperately. 
“Or maybe…?” Liam lowered his head, his tongue 
sliding around the weeping head, then he drew pack 
blowing against the damp, hard flesh. “This?” 
Spike howled his hips jerking madly and his cock 
twitching. “Yes…yesss…!” 
Pulling himself to his knees Liam slipped from the bed 
and reached for the bedside table’s draw. He smiled 
down at Spike as he pulled out a tube of lube. “Don’t 
worry my sweet blue-eyed boy,” he leaned in kissing 
Spike hard and fast, then pulled back leaving Spike 
panting, “…I’m going to give you everything.” 
Liam tossed the lube down next to Spike’s thigh, and 
then slowly stripped off his own soaked jeans. Smile 
widening---he chuckled---as Spike’s gaze settled on his 
cock and he moaned in want. 

“Like that do you?” 
Crawling onto the bed Liam straddled Spike’s heaving 
chest and fisted his cock. Stroking himself he moaned 
softly his eyes locked with Spike’s. 
“Do you want to taste me?” His eyes darkened as Spike 
nodded. “Then taste me.” He moved closer until his 
erection brushed Spike’s soft lips. 
Spike lifted his head his eyes focused on Liam’s and 
darted his tongue out circling the tip and then flicking 
into the slit. Liam gasped and gritted his teeth supress-
ing the urge to thrust between those perfect lips and into 
the wet heat he knew waited there. 
“Enough,” lowering himself he slithered down Spike’s 
body until he was facing the younger man. His mouth 
brushed against the sharp edge of his cheekbone and to 
his ear. “Not now,” he whispered, “…no teasing, no 
playing. I want you---you want me.” Liam nipped 
Spike’s earlobe as one hand lifted to tangle in Spike’s 
damp curls and he levered himself up with the other. 
Eyes sparkling he yanked Spike’s head back roughly 
and began kissing his throat. Spike moaned and squirm-
ed beneath Liam’s weight as their cocks brushed 
between their bellies. 
Liam lifted his head and smiled. “You like this don’t 
you.” 
Whimpering Spike met his gaze. “No teasing…promis-
ed. No, bloody teasing,” his words ended in a drawn out 
moan as Liam sucked at the throbbing pulse in his 
throat. 
“I’m…not,” Liam growled. 
Releasing Spike’s hair he slid further down until he was 
facing his cock once more. With a shaking hand he 
reached for the tube of lube next to Spike’s thigh. 
Sitting up on his knees Liam spoke softly. “Pull your 
legs up and spread them as wide as you can.” His heart 
began pounding hard as he watched Spike’s body shift 
and his back arc. He looked for everything in the world 
like a huge pale cat wanting it’s belly scratched and that 
sight only made his cock throb more with need. 
“Like this?” Spike purred as he lifted his hips. 
“Oh, yes,” a soft moan escaped Liam as he began 
stroking the inside of Spike’s trembling thigh. “You are 
the most incredibly beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” 
Spike purred again and writhed just enough to draw 
another moan from Liam. “I like it when you make that 
sound, pet.” His eyes glittered. 
Smacking Spike’s thigh he chuckled. “Now who’s 
teasing who my beautiful boy?” 
“You can’t be expecting me to tease you, pet. When 
I’m the one being the sodding prisoner.” Spike snorted. 
“Prisoner? That’s what you think this is about?” Liam’s 
eyes narrowed. “You’re stubborn boy and I’m just 
going to show you how wrong you are about me.” 
Stretching out Liam opened the lube lifting it and 
letting the cool liquid drip down first on Spike’s 
erection, then along the swell of his ass. Spike shivered 
and moaned as the lube slowly glided along his heated 
skin in a web of glistening lines. 
“Are you ready for me boy?” Liam growled as he ran 
one finger from the base to the tip of Spike’s cock and 
back again. “Are you clean and ready for me?” 
Panting Spike squirmed as Liam drew patterns through 
the slick oil. “Yes, bloody fucking hell…yes, always 
ready.” 
“Then should we start?” Liam chuckled as one hand 
encircled Spike’s erection and began pumping. 
A keening sound escaped Spike’s parted lips as Liam’s 
hand tightened on his cock. “Jesus bloody Christ! Just 
do it!” 
“Do what?” Liam’s other hand traced down between 
Spike’s ass cheeks spreading the oil. 
Spike’s head thrashed as he moaned and twisted his 
hips madly. “Know…you bloody well…” 
Pressing his finger against Spike’s twitching opening he 
smiled as Spike’s words cut off to be replaced with a 
desperate wail of need. “This? Do you want more?” 
“God…yes…bloody bastard!” 
Slowly he worked the finger past the muscle and into 
Spike’s warmth. “Like this? God, you’re so warm and 
tight my sweet little whore.” He continued pumping 
Spike’s swelling cock as he pumped his oil-slicked 
finger in and out of Spike’s ass. “Maybe you want 
more? Is that it?” 
“Yes…god damn you,” Spike panted as he pushed back 
against Liam’s invading finger, “…more…more…” 
Pulling back Liam added one more finger slowly work-
ing them into Spike with gentle pumping motions in 
time with his fist. “How’s that my sweet boy?” 
Moaning Spike thrust into Liam’s fist and squirmed 
against the sheets. “Good…shit Liam…bloody well 
killing me…” 
Liam chuckled as he crooked his fingers and brushed 
against Spike’s prostate with a feather touch. Spike let 
out a roar his back arching---the cuffs clattering against 
the headboard. 
“God you are so fucking hot!” Liam stroked against 
Spike’s prostate again and closed his eyes letting the 
sound of Spike’s keening envelope him. 
“Please…bloody fucking bastard!” Panting Spike 
pushed back on Liam’s fingers. “Want you inside 
me…” 
Releasing Spike’s cock Liam pulled his fingers from his 
body and sat up on his knees. “All you have to do is 
relax my beautiful boy.” Shifting he pulled Spike’s ass 
into his lap so his cock brushed against his opening. 
“Tell me what you want. Tell me.” Liam whispered. 
Spike’s eyes drifted open as he whimpered. “Want you 
inside me…your cock inside me now,” he squirmed as 
Liam grasp his own cock and rubbed it along his crease. 
“I want that to my sweet boy.” 
Positioning himself Liam reached out with his free hand 
and began stroking Spike’s weeping cock. Slowly he 
leaned forward pushing against the tight opening gently 
and then more insistent. Spike moaned and pushed back 
against Liam. 
“Hate you,” Spike whimpered, “…hate you…need 
you.” 
“Hush now. Just relax for me and take me inside you 
like we both want.” 
Spike grunted as the thick head stretched him open 
slowly entering him until it popped through the tight 
ring of muscle. “God…so bloody,” he panted, “…so 
bloody big…” 
“It’s okay my beautiful, William. You’re so tight and 
sweet…god damn I want to fuck you so bad.” Liam 
leaned forward releasing Spike’s cock and bracing 
himself on his arms---one hand on either side of Spike’s 
body. 
Whimpering Spike closed his eyes. “Never…” 
Liam leaned closer his cock slowly penetrating Spike’s 
quivering body. “Never what baby boy?” He bowed his 
head brushing his lips across Spike’s mouth. 
“Never been…been with anyone like thisss…” 
Lifting up Liam’s dark eyes narrowed. “Like what?” 
“Inside me,” Spike whimpered as Liam shifted his hips 
sliding deeper, “…never let anyone…just oral sex…” 
Opening his eyes Spike looked up at Liam as tears 
trickled down his jaw into his damp hair. Liam saw the 
truth in those cobalt depths and it confused him. 
“But you’re…” 
Spike whimpered. “…a whore?” 
Liam’s eyes glistened and suddenly he understood more 
than he had before. “It’s okay…hush…” 
Slowly he began pumping his hips, stroking the side of 
Spike’s face with one hand as he braced his weight with 
the other. His thumb wiped at the silent tears that Spike 
wept until he was seated deep inside Spike’s trembling 
body. 
Beneath him Spike’s body shifted and arched up from 
the mattress. Soft keening sounds escaped Spike’s 
convulsing throat as his head thrashed from side to side. 
“Only you,” Spike whimpered, “…only you and no one 
else…” 
Liam groaned as he pumped his hips. “Mine. You’re 
mine now and---shit I will kill anyone who touches 
you.” 
“Touch me…bloody Christ…touch me, Liam!” 
Reaching between their damp bodies Liam wrapped his 
fingers around Spike’s cock and began stroking again. 
“Yes…good…fuck so good,” whining Spike began 
thrusting his hips back into Liam’s slowly increasing 
strokes. “Yours…always…bloody hell…faster…” 
Roaring Liam’s back bowed as he began pounding into 
Spike’s hot, sweet, ass harder. “My boy…yes 
mine…come for me my sweet, William!” 
Beneath him Spike convulsed his lips parting in a 
scream as his cock exploded. Warm cum splashed 
across their bellies as his muscles tightened around 
Liam’s cock. Seconds later Liam came violently 
with a roar that echoed the distant thunder of the 
coming storm. 
“William!” 
*** 
Outside the town limits of Citrus Grove a black jeep 
pulled up to the small gas station. A tall man stepped 
from the jeep and walked towards the shelter of the 
building as the first fat drops of rain began to fall. As he 
entered the small station he smiled at the attendant. 
The young woman looked up from her copy of Cosmo 
popping her gum. Meeting his gaze she swallowed her 
gum shivering. 
“Can I…help you?” 
“Yes, you can, luv.” He removed a thin wallet and 
flipped it open. “Interpol and I am looking for an 
escaped prisoner.” 
She stared at the shiny badge and swallowed hard. 
“Interpol? What's that?” 
“An international version of your FBI.” He reached in 
his coat and pulled out a snap shot of Spike and Liam. 
“I would like it if you could tell me if you’ve seen these 
two men.” 
The clerk picked up the photo and studied it. “I think they 
were in here…couple of days ago.” Her wide gaze 
moved up to the man’s face. “You said---a prisoner.” 
“Yes, I did.” He snatched the photo and tucked it back 
into his coat. “The dark-haired one is a killer and he 
abducted my partner---the blonde.” 
Turning he headed out the door his eyes narrowing in 
anger. “I’m coming my sweet perfect rose.” 


Chapter 6


***

It was so dark. 
What little light there was seeped around the edge of 
the cupboard door---a weak white light---that he was 
sure was sunlight. He had no idea what time of the day 
it was or how long he had been here. All he could think 
of was what was coming and his heart was pounding 
hard against his chest like a galloping horse. 
As he shifted tugging on the ropes that bound his wrists 
tears ran down his face. Beyond the door he heard 
footsteps and leaned forward his forehead pressing 
against the edge of the door. His captor moved past the 
door and he whimpered behind the gag that filled his 
mouth. 
He struggled harder against the ropes as he tried to free 
himself. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat he 
flinched as the friction of the rope burnt the pale skin of 
his wrists---rubbing them raw. He had to get away, he 
just had, too. 
Suddenly the door opened bright light flooding the tiny 
space beneath the staircase. Looking up his eyes grow-
ing wide with fear he moaned. 
“Now…now my sweet rose, look what you’ve gone and 
done to yourself.” The man knelt down his hand caress-
ing his cheek. “You’ve been crying, sweet. There is 
absolutely no reason to weep like this.” 
The man’s hand lowered down curling around his 
bound and bleeding wrists. Head lifting back up the 
man’s eyes focused on his pale tear streaked face. 
“Why must you fight this my sweet boy?” 
Squirming he kicked out with bound legs and began 
screaming into the gag. 
*** 
“William! William wake up!” 
Sitting up Spike let out a scream of terror scrambling 
across the bed on all fours. Liam grabbed him from 
behind and another scream tore from Spike as he 
struggled against him. 
“Spike!” Liam roared yanking him around and slapping 
him hard across the face. 
Spike’s eyes went wide, then rolled back in his head as 
he went limp in Liam’s arms. 
“Shit…” Liam hissed as he shifted bringing Spike’s 
head to rest on the pillows. “Come on, Will.” He strok-
ed Spike’s sweat soaked hair. “Come on and open those 
beautiful eyes.” 
Moaning softly Spike shivered. “…no…please…” 
Liam looked down and grabbed the tangled blanket 
pulling it up over Spike’s shivering body. He pulled the 
younger man into his arms and held him tight humming 
softly. 
“Hey…come on now it’s me, Liam. Wake up. Just a 
bad dream---that’s all.” He continued stroking Spike’s 
cheek gently as he twitched and whimpered. “Just me 
and you Will---no one else.” 
Slowly Spike’s eyes drifted open---sleepy and 
unfocused---as he sighed. “Liam?” 
Liam smiled down at Spike. “Yeah, Liam.” 
“Where?” 
“My room. We fell asleep after…well after…” 
His grip loosened as Spike struggled to set up. “It’s 
raining…my guit…” 
Liam hushed him with a gentle kiss. “It’s okay I just 
went down right before the storm started. It’s all safe 
and dry in your room. I was in there when I heard you 
scream.” 
Shaking Spike turned away from Liam his eyes 
focusing on the French doors that stood open a cool 
breeze blowing through the room and stirring the sheer 
drapes. Beyond the doors the sky was black as midnight 
and the sound of rain played out a hypnotizing song on 
the roof. 
“Don’t know what you’re going on about, mate.” He 
pulled away swinging his legs over the edge of the 
mattress and stood. 
Liam sat staring at Spike’s naked backside as he walked 
to the open doors---his brow furrowed. “You had a 
nightmare, Will.” 
“We all have a bloody nightmare time and again, pet.” 
With a sigh of frustration Liam rolled over and sat up 
reaching for the night stand draw. “Yeah, I get that, 
Will.” He pulled the draw open and pulled an unopened 
pack of Camel’s from it, then stood. “I’ve had my share 
of them…being a cop isn’t conducive to sweet dreams.” 
Moving across the room he grabbed his robe slipping it 
on, and then opened the chest of draws pulling out a 
pair of sweats. He turned to see where Spike was and 
couldn’t help smiling despite what had happened mere 
moments before. 
Spike was standing on the balcony his face lifted to the 
storm. His eyes were closed rivulets of rain rushing 
over his naked body---a sculpture of pure unblemished 
marble. 
Moving to the door Liam stood watching Spike and he 
remembered the taste and the feel of Spike’s skin. The 
way the younger man had moved beneath him, the soft 
sounds he had made, and suddenly his heart began to 
swell. 
This was more than sex. 
More than lust. 
He had only ever felt this way about one other man and 
he had never thought he would feel that way again. 
“Hey!” He whistled sharply to catch Spike’s attention. 
Spike’s face lowered and he turned just as a bolt of 
lightening lit up the sky behind him. Liam just stared 
openly not caring what Spike thought. He had waited 
for a moment like this since he had laid eyes on the 
younger man. 
As he stepped towards the doors Spike moved through 
into the room and lifted his arms running his slender 
fingers through his rain-soaked platinum curls. With a 
quick shake of his head he growled and raised one dark 
brow at Liam. 
“What the bloody hell are you staring at, luv?” 
“You…” Liam whispered, “…got a problem with that?” 
Spike chuckled as Liam tossed him the sweat pants. “A 
towel would’ve been nice you bloody git.” 
Snorting Liam stepped into the bathroom and a few 
seconds later a towel flew through the door hitting 
Spike in the back of the head. 
“Hey, now, luv! None of that!” Spike turned grabbing 
the towel before it hit the floor. He dropped the towel 
over his head scrubbing ferociously then ran it down 
over his chest. As the towel dropped down he caught a 
glimpse of Liam leaning against the door jamb. “Still 
looking are you, pet?” 
Liam strolled across the room his hands stilling Spike’s 
and leaned in kissing him deeply. His hands stroked 
down Spike’s trembling back, cupping his ass, and 
pulling his hips forward. “Why wouldn’t I?” Gasping 
he pulled back just enough so they could both take a 
breathe. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
“Am I?” Spike whispered his eyes getting a far away 
look in them. 
With a frown Liam snapped his fingers in front of 
Spike’s eyes. “Talk to me. Tell me who the hell this 
man is and why he’s after you.” 
Spike shook his head trying to focus on Liam once 
more. “Man?” His voice began to tremble. “What 
bloody man?” 
“Dammit William! What is it with you? The bastard 
that killed your room mate. And don’t try and deny it, 
okay? It all fits. Why the hell do you think I brought 
you here?” Liam tromped to the bed flopping down and 
staring at the ceiling. 
Silence filled the room, and then Spike’s breathing 
hitched. Liam turned as he felt the mattress dip next to 
him. 
“…my professor…” 
Liam pushed up on his elbow studying Spike’s slumped 
shoulders and the taunt muscles in his back. 
“Your professor?” Liam sat up now his eyes narrowing. 
“I trusted him…looked up to him…” Spike’s voice 
cracked as he stood. “Children are foolish…” 
Liam looked down at the pack of cigarettes in his hand 
and slowly opened them. Pulling one from the pack he 
ran it beneath his nose with a soft sigh as he inhaled. 
He’d quit almost six years ago, but he wanted one so 
fucking bad right now. 
“You weren’t foolish, Will.” He lifted the cigarette to 
his lips and reached for the lighter on the night stand. 
“You were young and someone who you should have 
been able to trust betrayed…” 
Rounding on Liam the young man growled in the back 
of his throat. “What do you know?!” 
Liam’s dark eyes calmly studied Spike’s furious face as 
he lifted the lighter flicking it. The pale blue flame 
danced in the dim room bathing Liam’s features in an 
ethereal glow as he lit the cigarette inhaling deeply. 
Closing the lighter he tossed it on the bed as he pulled 
the cigarette from where it dangled on his lips and 
exhaled with a soft groan. Holding out the cigarette 
Liam met his gaze head on. 
“I know more than you think, boy.” 
*** 
Gunn stood outside Winifred Burkle’s office listening 
to Wes ramble at Doyle. Why in the name of God the 
little Irish pain had to be here he had no idea, but there 
he was with his coal dark hair and his wide blue eyes. 
“Charles? Did you hear me?” 
Turning Gunn frowned at Wes’ apparently clueless 
expression. “Heard you just fine, English. Now could 
you explain to me again ‘why’ McPsychic is here? Or 
maybe ‘why’ I should let you bring a civilian in on this 
case?” His fists clenched and unclenched as he stared 
into two sets of sapphire eyes. 
“I’d be taking it kindly if you’d find your way to not be 
referring to me as McPsychic. Me name is Francis or 
Doyle---I prefer Doyle.” Doyle’s eyes narrowed in 
annoyance. “Of course if you’d keep calling me that I 
could call you out into a round of fisticuffs. I was a bit 
of a boxer in me school days.” 
Snorting Gunn rolled his eyes. “Well now Lucky…I bet 
you never had to duck a drive by in East LA.” 
Wes let out a loud sigh as Doyle opened his mouth. “It 
would be lovely if you two uncivilized apes could find 
your way to agree to disagree.” His gaze met Gunn’s. 
“Do not make me have to pull rank on you, Charles. I 
respect you far too much, but do not think for one 
moment I would not. And as far as you…” his gaze 
shifted to Doyle, “…I am surprised at you. You are 
usually the consummate professional and yet you allow 
Charles to get your ire up with a few well placed Irish 
jokes.” 
Both men glanced at Wes in disbelief, then at each 
other. Pryce had never dressed either down with such a 
simple statement. Gunn was the first to speak---only to 
prove he was the bigger of the two. 
“Fine. So why are we here and why is Mr. Doyle…” he 
glanced at the fuming Irishman, “…accompanying us?” 
“Ms. Burkle---as I told you Charles---discovered 
something unique about the last body. I believe Doyle 
will be able to give us more information. He has been 
able to work with bodies in previous cases. Then I shall 
have Ms. Burkle update us and see just how accurate 
Doyle’s visions are.” 
Taking a deep breath Gunn scrubbed his face and let 
out a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine, English. Lets get this 
done and over with,” he pushed open the morgue door, 
“…I hate dead bodies…” he mumbled beneath his 
breath. 
*** 
He stood staring at the high stone wall the darkness of 
the storm concealing him. Eyes narrowing he began 
walking the perimeter of the wall his passing unheard 
above the loud roar of the thunder and the splattering of 
the heavy rain on the leaves of the trees. 
One gloved hand reached out to caress the stone wall 
and his eyes drifted shut. Rivulets of icy rain trailed 
down his face as his lips curled into a smug smile. 
His boy was here. 
So close he could almost taste his sweet essence on the 
storm tossed wind. So many years and still his boy was 
perfect---unblemished---despite his attempts to conceal 
the truth. Nothing could ever defile that sweet perfect-
ion that he had tasted so long ago. 
Smooth porcelain pale skin very much like the finest 
Italian marble. And those eyes---so filled with passion 
and intellect---were two perfectly polished sapphires. 
His eyes drifted open as his memories began to fade 
back into his thoughts. 
“My perfect flower. Fear not my midnight rose for I 
have come to claim you at last.” 
Continuing his track along the stone wall he began 
humming softly to himself. He recalled that this 
particular song had been his boy’s favorite. 
Green Sleeves. 
*** 
Liam sat across the table from Spike studying him with 
curious eyes. The younger man had promised that he 
would talk if Liam would just shut up. So despite his 
better judgment Liam had dressed, then went down-
stairs to the kitchen and began searching the cupboards 
for ingredients. 
Now he was watching Spike eat---really eat---for the 
first time since they had arrived. 
He’d cooked up a pan of Pasta con Broccoli, a loaf of 
cheese garlic bread, and then found a bottle of ex-
pensive scotch. He reached for another slice of bread 
and as he did his fingers closed over Spike’s. 
Wide sapphire eyes looked up at him with a start. 
“Hey, sorry…” he pulled his hand back, “…go ahead 
help yourself.” 
Spike snatched the slice of bread in question and dipped 
it into the cream sauce. As Liam watched he lifted the 
bread to his mouth taking a huge sloppy bite. A tiny 
trickle of cream sauce dripped down Spike’s chin as he 
chewed slowly. Despite his best efforts Liam felt a 
twitch in his groin. Leaning forward Liam’s dark eyes 
twinkled as he licked the sauce slowly off Spike’s chin 
up to his perfectly sculpted lips. 
Beneath his kiss he could feel Spike stiffen for a split 
second, then relax as he swallowed. Pulling back Liam 
smiled at the look of raw need in Spike’s eyes though 
he doubted the boy would admit it. 
“You had a bit of sauce---on your chin.” 
Spike blinked and his lips parted his tongue darting out to 
lick across the delicate skin. “Is it gone?” He whispered. 
Liam grinned. “Yeah, most definitely gone.” 
The moment had passed. 
With a sigh Liam stood and moved to the counter 
retrieving a glass and filling it with ice. “Would you like 
a scotch?” He reached for the decanter pulling out the 
cork with slightly trembling hands. 
“Scotch…yeah that sounds bloody fantastic.” 
“Straight or on the rocks.” Liam retrieved another glass. 
“Straight up. No other way to drink scotch.” 
Dumping the ice into the sink from his glass Liam poured 
the two glasses and returned to the table setting one in 
front of Spike. “There you go---scotch straight up.” 
Spike lifted the glass his eyes watching the amber liquid 
swirl and the light from the overhead spark through the 
cut crystal of the glass. He brought the glass to his lips 
sipping and sighed as the burn of the smoky liquor 
traveled down his throat. 
“Ever wondered what makes a person a bloody nutter?”

Glancing up from his own drink Liam stretched out in the 
chair the best he could. “Never gave it much thought to 
tell you the truth, Will. I’ve seen so many of them and it 
never seems that they ever have the same reason. They 
blame their parents, they blame nature…” he took a quick 
gulp of scotch, “…it’s always someone else’s fault. Hard 
to tell the real nuts from the fake ones.” 
Spike snorted. “Fake?” 
“You live on the streets, Will. You know how it is---what 
you have to do to survive. Some people put on a show 
just so the world will let them alone.” 
Nodding Spike took another sip and smiled. “Yeah like 
that crazy sod---Jesus.” 
“Jesus?” Liam raised a brow. 
“No, not ‘Gees-us’ it’s ‘Hay-sus’. You know him works 
on Hollywood and Vine. He’s always talking to himself 
and wears that bloody foil hat with the ping-pong ball 
antennas.” Spike chuckled. 
Liam’s second brow joined the first. “You mean that tall 
skinny fucker? He’s a loon. Every one in vice knows 
about him.” 
“Don’t know much---now do you.” Spike swallowed the 
last of his scotch. “Jesus is one of the highest paid boys 
on the street. He’s clean and he does kink---any kind of 
kink. His specialty is daddy kink.” 
“Daddy kink?” Liam stood taking Spike’s glass and his 
own walking back to the counter. 
“Yeah…let’s them ‘upper-class’ business men whip his 
ass while they do anything from jerk themselves off to…” 
Liam turned at the feel of Spike pressed against him. He 
dropped the glass in the sink shards of glass skittering 
across the polished chrome. 
“…him sucking them off.” 
Falling to his knees Spike looked up with wide eyes---a 
mixture of innocence and a well taught whore. 
“What are you doing?” Liam’s voice was a tight squeak 
as Spike reached for the waist of his jeans. 
“What do you think---officer?” 
His hands moved down to cover Spike’s trying to still 
them. “You don’t have to do this.” 
Spike cocked his head and grinned. “Bloody well don’t 
have to do anything, peaches.” 
His fingers began to pop the buttons one at a time. 
*** 
Doyle stood, sleeves rolled up, and hands encased in latex 
staring at the sheet covered body. A chill crept up his 
spine as he stared down at the swell of head, chest, arms, 
and legs beneath the bleached white cotton. 
“Mr. Doyle? Are you ready?” 
He glanced up into Winifred Burkle’s warm brown eyes 
with a weak smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be lass.” 
She lifted the corner of the sheet carefully pulling it back 
to reveal the face of Stephen Connery. His skin pale and 
devoid of the blood that had once pumped through his 
veins gave him the appearance of a marble statue. He 
would even be cold to the touch Doyle thought as he 
continued to study the square jaw, the full lips now blue 
with no breath to speak of. 
“More?” Winifred questioned. 
“Yes.” 
The sheet lowered a few more inches revealing the neatly 
stitched arms of the Y-incision. Doyle inhaled through his 
nose the scent of menthol filling his head. 
He glanced up and signaled Winifred to stop at the chest, 
then looked back down in Stephen Connery’s lifeless face 
with a sad expression. “Well, boyo…speak to me.” He 
whispered as he lowered his hands---the left above the 
unbeating heart and the right against the cold forehead. 
Almost instantly he felt the jolt travel up his spine and 
into his skull. He hissed between clenched teeth as he 
rode the wave of lingering energy. 
Leaning against the far wall Gunn suddenly stood 
straight as he caught what he thought was a glimpse of 
a spark. “Shit…” he glanced over at Pryce who was 
casually watching Doyle, “…was that?” 
“Energy as far as I can tell.” Pryce smiled excitedly as 
he was caught up in Gunn’s disbelief. “It happens each 
time he touches a body. Frankly I am fascinated by it.” 
Gunn shook his head and grinned. “Well I’ve seen it all 
now.” 
“Not quite Charles.” 
As if on cue Doyle screamed. 
*** 
“Shit!” Liam squirmed as Spike curled one slender 
hand around his balls and squeezed gently. 
Spike’s gaze traveled up Liam’s trembling body to 
study his face. “You know you’re gorgeous, pet.” His 
other hand lifted to curl around Liam’s swelling cock 
and pumped gently. His thumb caressed the head in tiny 
circling motions. 
A choked cry escaped Liam’s parted lips as he lowered 
his eyes glancing down from beneath his thick dark 
lashes. “You…you need to stop…” he moaned. 
“Is that what you really want---Liam?” Spike’s eyes 
sparkled with amusement and want. “Or do you want 
more?” His hand released Liam’s balls and moved to 
caress his hip---his thumb rubbing along the bone. 
“Christ…” his fingers tightened on the countertop, 
“…you’re impossible…”

“Am I?” Spike whispered his voice cream smooth as he 
squeezed the pulsing flesh in his other hand. “Or are
you the impossible one, luv?” 
Liam hissed between his teeth. “Who has who naked in 
the kit…” he gasped as Spike swallowed his cock in 
one swift movement. “Sweet…Jesus…” 
*** 
Outside the storm was reaching its crescendo as he 
found what he sought---a way to his boy. 
It wasn’t much. Just a small space just big enough for 
him to slip through between the end of the stone wall 
and the beginning of the hedgerow. With a grunted 
curse he pushed through the opening and fell to the 
ground. 
As he lifted to his feet he smiled. “Ahhh…yes my 
sweet boy I am so close to bringing you home.” 
He tilted his head back letting the rain wash over his 
face as he pushed back his hair. As his gaze lowered he 
chuckled to himself. 
A rose garden. 
How perfect was that? Too perfect. 
Moving through the pouring rain he whistled to himself 
as he worked his way through the storm darkened maze 
to the backyard of the house. Studying the house his 
eyes narrowed. There were no lights on in the house 
with the exception of the patio doors at the rear of the 
house. 
Soft stripes of pale gold shimmered along the wet 
courtyard, reflecting in the pools that had gathered. His 
gaze focused on that light as he moved to where the 
glass doors---covered with vertical blinds---looked into 
the kitchen. Peering through the blinds he saw the 
remains of dinner on the kitchenette table, then the 
island with the pots and pans dangling from the ceiling. 
Frowning he moved along the windows and that’s when 
he saw his perfect rose---his beautiful boy. 
He was kneeling on the floor and the cop was in front 
of him. A low growl rose in his throat as he saw what 
was happening. 
“…bastard…” he hissed. 
As he watched through the blinds his sweet boy was 
forced to do the unthinkable with that disgusting cop---
what was his name?---Liam Hanlon. Each thrust of 
Liam’s hips drove him closer to the edge. Grinding his 
teeth he pressed a hand against the glass. 
“William. My poor sweet rose…he shall pay for 
defiling your sweet mouth.” A deep frown creased his 
brow as Hanlon’s hands lifted, fingers weaving through 
William’s tousled hair. 
*** 
Spike swallowed hard as he deep throated Liam his 
tongue swirling, and his teeth teasing along his flesh. 
“Shit…God…Will…” Liam moaned as he fought the 
urge to thrust his hips harder. “Beautiful…damn you 
have…have an amazing mouth…” 
His gaze lowered to watch as his cock thrust in and out 
of that perfect mouth. The sight was too much for him 
and he tightened his fingers in Spike’s hair. He opened 
his mouth to warn Spike, but he cried out instead---
coming hard. 
As he collapsed against the counter panting Spike 
chuckled as he laved him clean. “Was that good for 
you, luv?” 
Liam snorted. “That was fucking incredible…think my 
knees are going to collapse real…” 
Suddenly there was a loud cracking sound. 
“What the hell?!” Liam yanked his jeans up. “Did you 
hear that?”

Spike slowly stood his face going paler than was 
natural. “Yeah…I heard it, luv. What the bloody hell 
was it?” 
Moving to the table as he zipped his jeans Liam pulled 
his gun from the holster hanging on the back of the 
chair. “Sounded like glass.” Checking the clip Liam 
popped it back in, then flipped off the safety. “Stay 
here, Will.” 
“Like bloody hell I will!” Spike snapped. 
“Fine,” Liam sighed, “…but stay behind me---okay?” 
“No problem, peaches. Not really big on the dying 
thing anyway.” 
“Oh, and Will.” 
“Yes, pet?” 
“Could you not call me peaches.” 
Spike snorted behind him as he headed to the patio 
doors. Hushing Spike with a finger to his lips he 
reached out to flip the lock. That was when he felt the 
air---cold air---against his legs. Squatting he pushed the 
blinds aside sucking in a deep breath. 
“What the bloody hell is it?” Spike whispered---his 
voice cracking. 
“Doors been broken.” Liam ran a finger along the 
spider web of cracks radiating from a fist sized hole. 
He could hear Spike’s breathing hitch and he turned his 
gaze meeting the younger man’s wide eyes. 
“He’s here…” Spike gasped. 
Liam stood and moved to where Spike leaned against 
the wall shaking. “Who?” 
“Judas…he’s here…he’s coming…” 



****
WARNING: In this chapter there is mention of 
sexual abuse of a minor. Though not extremely 
graphic, it may be distasteful to some readers. I do 
apologize, but it is important to the plot and I hope 
that it will not deter those of you have been reading 
“Midnight.” Child abuse is never a subject to be 
taken lightly.
****

Chapter 7
 
***
 
“Judas…” 
 
That name rang in Liam’s ears as he swallowed 
back the bile that rose in his throat. The name of 
the sick fucker who had sent the roses to the police 
station two days ago. Behind him, Liam heard a 
thud and he turned his dark eyes focused on Spike 
with a look of concern.
 
Spike was huddled on the floor---his back against 
the island---rocking back and forth. His usually 
bright eyes were glazed over in terror and pure 
shock, a lone curl falling over his pale forehead. In 
that moment Liam could see the boy of fifteen who 
had been betrayed by a teacher he had trusted. His 
gut twisted into a knot as he lowered to his knees 
on the hard, cold tile floor his large hands gripping 
Spike’s trembling shoulders.
 
“Will come on…look at me.” His own voice was 
on the edge of breaking as his vision began to blur 
with unshed tears. He didn’t have time for this, but 
his own memories were rising to the surface.
 
Faded and boxed memories of another young man, 
this one with wide dark eyes, and another rainy 
night on a lonely stretch of road. There had been 
blood then---too much blood to think of---and the 
scent of fear as he huddled in the tall grass.
 
***
 
Clearfield, Pennsylvania
September 09, 1990
 
He’d had no idea that it would end like this.
 
A fool was what he’d been.
 
Liam lifted his head from the airbag his entire body 
aching with the aftershocks of the impact. He could 
taste blood on his lips and for a moment he 
panicked, then realized he had bit through his lip.
 
“Alex…” he croaked softly.
 
Turning his head with a wince, it took a moment 
for him to realize that the passenger seat was 
empty. He blinked then let his gaze lift to where 
the windshield should be. In its place was a gaping 
hole, the glass lying scattered across the hood of 
the car in a shower of sparkling shards that 
glistened in the pouring rain.
 
“ALEX!”
 
***
 
“Doyle can you hear me?”
 
With a soft groan, Doyle blinked as his vision 
began to clear, Wes’ worried face coming into 
focus above him.
 
“Aye, that would be me.” He chuckled weakly as 
he tried to set up on the worn sofa in Winifred’s 
office. 
 
Gunn pulled a folding chair up handing a paper cup 
of water to Doyle, the shock still evident in his 
eyes. “What did you see, man?”
 
A rush of acid filled Doyle’s throat as Wes helped 
him set up as he accepted the cup. Slowly he 
sipped the water and tried to will the acid back in 
his gut where it belonged. The images that had 
come to him were horrifying and at the same time 
mesmerizing.
 
“He’s a sick man…” he whispered in reply to 
Gunn’s query. “He’s punishing his boy for running 
away…for escaping the closet.”
 
“The closet?” Gunn raised a brow turning to Pryce 
with a questioning look.
 
Clearing his throat Pryce leaned forward with a 
deep frown. “Did you see him, Francis?”
 
Doyle shook his head. “Nay…not a clear picture I 
didn’t. Vague images…” he took another sip of the 
water trying to moisten his dust dry throat. “Hands 
in leather gloves. He doesn’t wear the gloves to 
keep his prints off the body. I’d be swearing that he 
wears them to hide a flaw…maybe scars.” He 
glanced up at Pryce with wide blue eyes. “Me mum 
used to warn me of the ones like this…the men 
who had a taste for the young lads. Your boy 
Hanlon he’s in more danger than he knows. The 
boy in his custody…”
 
“Flatley.” Gunn spoke up.
 
“Aye.” Shaking his head Doyle scrubbed at his 
eyes with the heels of his hands, “…he’s the one 
who got away.”
 
“Shit…” Pryce and Gunn both whispered at once.
 
***
 
Liam was forcing Spike up the stairs one by one as 
his eyes darted back and forth. He had to get both 
of them out of here; there wasn’t a choice. 
 
“Will listen to me…” he paused on the shadowy 
landing pressing Spike against the wall, “…I won’t 
let him have you. You’re mine now and I won’t let 
anything change that, but we have got to get the 
hell out of here.”
 
Spike blinked and whimpered softly in the back of 
his throat. “Yours?” 
 
Smiling despite the situation Liam nodded. “Yes, 
you’re mine now beautiful boy.” He leaned for-
ward kissing Spike deeply. 
 
At first, his mouth was stiff beneath Liam’s, but 
gradually it softened as he blinked again. Ever so 
slowly, he gave into the kiss, then pulled back to 
look into Liam’s dark eyes.
 
“Do you mean it?” Spike chewed on his lower lip 
his gaze lowering to the floor. “Am I really yours 
now, luv?”
 
Liam pulled Spike into his embrace tucking his 
head beneath his chin and kissing the top of his 
head. “Yes…you’re mine now and I’ll kill the 
bastard with my bare hands before I let him touch 
you ever again.”
 
He could feel Spike tremble against him as he 
spoke and finally he allowed the tears to fall. He 
lifted a hand stroking the soft loose curls beneath 
his chin. Spike had run enough---so had he---and 
they both deserved some peace and happiness at 
last. A soft chuckle escaped him as he thought of 
the final time he had spoken with Kate Lockley, his 
deceased partner.
 
<Liam don’t you think it was about time you 
allowed the past the rest. You’re a good man; you 
deserve to be happy. Alex’s death wasn’t your 
fault. You were just a kid. Just because you lost 
him it doesn’t mean you’ll lose everyone you 
love.>
 
“What’s so funny, pet?” Spike lifted his head from 
Liam’s chest frowning in confusion.
 
“Just some old ghosts coming back to taunt me. 
Can you help me get our shit together? We have to 
leave the house before…”
 
His words faded as the lights flickered, and then 
the electricity cut off leaving the house swathed in 
darkness.
 
***
 
Quietly he closed the fuse box, then slipped the 
wire cutters back in his coat pocket. It would have 
been better if the bloody detective didn’t know he 
was here, but his anger had taken over for that split 
second.
 
He closed his eyes breathing slowly through his 
nose trying to erase the image that was imprinted 
on his mind with a crystal clarity. William was his 
boy and to see him like that on his knees, his sweet 
lips wrapped around Hanlon’s cock, was almost 
too much to bear. Swallowing hard, he let his eyes 
drift open and he smiled pearly white teeth gleam-
ing in the flickering light of his torch. The cop 
would pay for defiling his boy; he would pay with 
his blood.
 
Years had passed, yet he still remembered that first 
time he had laid his gaze on his sweet rose. It was 
that memory he clung to as he started up the stairs, 
the beam of the torch bobbing against the walls.
 
***
 
Delphi Arts Academy
London, September 1989
 
As he watched from the row of high windows 
William Flatley moved to the fountain smiling and 
laughing as he greeted his friends. Classes had 
begun once more and he was grateful that they had 
for the summer break had been long and quite 
tedious. 
 
William slapped the shoulder of another student 
and the sound of laughter rose, drifting in the 
window along with the sharp chill of the early 
autumn air.
 
“What’d you do Willie boy during summer 
holiday?”
 
“You know me mum and dad always the same. 
Work, work, and more work. Practically had to cry 
to get them to leave for the shore, Alfie.”
 
“Headmaster Wydown says that we have a new 
music’s professor.”
 
“Really, now? And since when are you Wydown’s 
best friend.” William flopped onto the edge of the 
fountain, his duffel dropping to the stone courtyard.
 
“You bloody, git!” Alfred snorted, “I ain’t now---
am I? Me mum is best friends with his daft wife.”
 
“So what is this new professor look like? Maybe 
we’d be getting lucky and it’s a skirt with big…”
 
Alfred smacked William in the back. “No such 
luck. That’s him now.” The boy lifted his hand 
pointing up to the windows.
 
Smiling he waved at the boys and they waved back 
leaning into one another whispering.
 
He’d seen the boy William at the end of the year 
before summer holiday and he’d even stopped by 
his parent’s shop. There had been a few short 
conversations and the Flatley’s had even invited 
him to dinner once. Had they known what his 
motives were they would have been horrified, but 
they hadn’t.
 
Fools, he thought, his gaze moving over the slender 
form of the boy below in the courtyard. A soft 
groan rose in his throat as his hand drifted out of 
sight to rub at his crotch.
 
He was beautiful, perfect, an exquisite example of 
art come to life. Lust and desire filled him as he 
imagined having him.
 
That youthful sleek body, naked and bound 
beneath him as his cock slid in and out of that tight 
warmth. His hands roaming over rosy nipples that 
would tighten at his touch.
 
The boy on his knees suckling his cock, huge 
terrified eyes looking up as he moaned
 
Bent over the end of his sofa in his living room 
bound and gagged as he took him from behind. His 
fist would be stripping the boy's cock brutally in 
time with his vicious thrusts.
 
He shook his head and smiled softly as he heard 
the boy’s voice below.
 
“That’s him? I know him…he’s a customer at me 
parent’s shop. We had him to dinner once or twice 
over the summer.” 
 
***
 
Liam was halfway through the final drawer when 
he heard what was the distinct sound of a door 
closing downstairs. Checking the clip in his gun he 
grabbed his duffel, slinging it over his shoulder and 
stepped through the connecting door to Spike’s 
room. With a worried sigh he glanced around the 
candle lit room in search of his charge who now 
meant more to him than his life.
 
To his surprise he found Spike huddled in the 
corner of the room, a heavy metal candlestick 
clutched to his chest. His bag, packed completely, 
sat on the carpeted floor next to his trembling 
body. The expression though in his eyes ripped 
Liam’s heart to shreds. His eyes were wide with 
terror, almost pitch black in the dim light, and they 
were focused on the door that led into the upstairs 
hallway.
 
“Spike?” Liam lowered his voice, though it didn’t 
seem to matter.
 
Spike nearly jumped out of his skin, yet at the same 
time managed to crawl deeper into the shadowy 
corner. He blinked as his gaze lifted to focus on 
Liam’s face taking in the expression of worry the 
creased his brow.
 
His voice came out soft and small like a young boy 
who was frightened by the monster under the bed 
that he was sure existed. “Liam, he’s here…”
 
Liam knelt down in front of him, nodding. “Yes, I 
know, William.”
 
“You promised, luv.” Spike whispered. “You said 
you would protect me from him.”
 
“Yes, I did.” Liam reached out his hand settling on 
Spike’s trembling shoulder, the tremors traveling 
up his hand and his arm. “That’s why we’re 
leaving my beautiful boy.” Standing he held out his 
hand to Spike. “We have to get out of here, get to 
the car before he finds us.”
 
Shaking himself out of whatever dark memory he 
had been trapped in Spike took Liam’s proffered 
hand allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He 
reached down he dropped the candlestick and 
retrieved his bag. “Yeah, you great bloody git, we 
do.”
 
Liam bit his lip to keep from chuckling as he drew 
Spike into his arms for a quick kiss. Releasing him, 
he reached into the waistband of his jeans at the 
small of his back, pulling out his back-up weapon. 
Spike’s eyes widened as he saw the small glossy 
black nine-millimeter in Liam’s palm. With a 
nervous shake of his head, he took a couple of 
steps backwards.
 
“William…” Liam cleared his throat, “…listen to 
me, please. I want you to take the gun.”
 
“No…no I can’t…” Spike took another step back 
swallowing so hard that Liam could see his 
Adam’s apple bob convulsively.
 
A frustrated grunt escaped Liam as he reached out 
grabbing Spike’s shoulder roughly, his fingers 
tightening. He needed Spike to do this, he thought, 
but he didn’t want to scare the holy living shit out 
of him. He was already drifting between the 
present and the past as it was. Loosening his grip, 
he lowered his voice, his thumb stroking the 
prominent curve of Spike’s collarbone.
 
“Baby…listen to me carefully. I want you to have 
protection if something happens to me.”
 
Pure horror lit up Spike’s wide eyes, his face going 
ghost white. “Promised…” he whimpered, “…you 
bloody well promised…”
 
“He’s a fucking murderer, William!” Liam snapp-
ed. “I damn well know what I promised and I 
swear I’ll protect you with my final breath.”
 
Swallowing back a choked breath Spike took the 
gun from Liam’s hand. “I’ve never…”
 
“It’s okay, Will. I understand.” He calmly turned 
Spike’s hand in his with a gentle smile. “This is the 
safety.” He flicked a tiny button on the side of the 
gun. “You have to have it in this position before 
the gun will fire. All you have to do is point and 
fire---okay?”
 
Nodding Spike smiled weakly in reply.
 
“Now let’s get the fuck out of here, Will.” Liam 
turned heading for the door the sound of Spike’s 
soft steps close behind.
 
***
 
Pryce slammed his fist into the wall flinching as 
the vibrations traveled up his arm, then turned his 
eyes filled with fire. His brow furrowed as he 
began to pace in front of Doyle and Gunn.
 
“How did we bloody well miss this?”
 
A snort escaped Gunn as he stood running his 
hands across his head. “Liam didn’t, bro’. He knew 
that fucking bastard was after Flatley. Why in the 
hell do you think he ask for protective custody for 
him?”
 
“A fat lot of good that did your boy, lads.” Doyle 
piped up from where he was sitting at Winifred’s 
desk doodling. “He right well knew about the 
roses---Black China---the boys favorite. That 
would be why he crowned the others with them. 
They were gifts to his boy---a promise.”
 
“A promise?” Pryce halted his pacing raising a 
brow as he rubbed his bruising knuckles. “Exactly 
what kind of promise would that be, Doyle?”
 
Doyle sighed softly lifting the sheet of paper he’d 
been doodling on. “Crucifix, boyo. Positioned the 
bodies like the Christ---now didn’t he?”
 
Crossing the room Pryce took the paper from 
Doyle's hand studying it. A crude human figure 
along with scribbled notes in Doyle’s messy hand 
covered it.
 
“Roses were how he lured the lads into his 
confidence---roses and music. Cause I’ll be telling 
you when he came into the precinct he was singing 
a song and it wasn’t one I’d ever heard. It was the 
boy’s song…” Doyle glanced up at Pryce and 
Gunn, “…why he drowned the boy…the last one. 
Miss Burkle told ye---didn’t she? Tell me I’m 
wrong. Trust me I’d like to be wrong I would. 
Drowned him in the tub he did. With the pesticide-
--the kind that they use on the roses.”
 
“How the fuck…?” Gunn growled.
 
Doyle chuckled softly. “The lad told me he did.” 
He glanced over his shoulder at the morgue door 
with a sad expression. “The dead have a bit now to 
say. It’s just that most folks never have the nerve to
 
listen.”
 
***
 
Pulling open, the front door Liam waved Spike out 
into the storm, then headed for the car. The first 
thing he noticed was the hood had been popped and 
he swallowed hard wiping the rain from his eyes.
 
“Son of a bitch…” he mumbled beneath his breath 
as Spike tossed the bags in the car.
 
“Tires are slashed, pet.” Spike spoke up a slight 
tremor in his voice. “We can drive on them though-
--can’t we?”
 
Liam growled deep in his throat. “We could, but 
the bastard took the distributor cap.” His gaze 
focused on Spike and he swallowed hard. “If we 
want out we have to walk, Will. Do you think you 
can do this?”
 
Spike trembled as he stepped closer to Liam his 
eyes lifting to focus on the dark windows of the 
house. “Yes…” his eyes lowered to focus on Liam 
face and another tremor traveled through his body.
 
“Then let’s go.” Liam grabbed his shoulder squeez-
ing it quickly trying to reassure his boy. “It’s going
 
to be okay, Will. I promise you.”
 
Nodding Spike followed Liam through the gates 
and onto the main road. He refused to glance back 
at the house as he stiffened his shoulders. If he’d 
done so he knew what he would have seen. Even as 
he moved closer he could feel the monsters gaze on 
him---the gaze he had felt that night.
 
***
 
London
October 1989
 
William was furious with his dad.
 
His mum always understood but never his dad. All 
he wanted to do was make music---to sing. Of 
course, his dad would never understand how he felt 
when he was on the stage letting the music flow 
through him and his voice move with it. 
 
A hobby that’s all it was his dad had said. Some-
thing that would look good on his transcripts when 
he interviewed with Oxford after he finished his 
secondary schooling. Then he would study botany 
and come back to take over the family business 
after he received his degree. 
 
Shivering he pulled his coat tighter around him and 
sniffed back the tears that threatened. The only two 
people who really understood were Alfie, his best 
friend, and his music’s professor. However, Alfie 
was gone---vanished three weeks ago. The 
inspector and his detectives had concluded that 
Alfie had run away, but William knew better.
 
Alfie wasn’t unhappy. Sure he complained about 
his mum and dad, but then they all did. It was part 
and parcel to being a teenager. He’d known Alfie 
since nursery school and Alfie wasn’t the bloody 
type to up and runway. Besides, if he had he would 
have told him about his plans.
 
Glancing up at high wall of the academy William 
sighed. All he had now was the professor and he’d 
spent a lot of time talking to him. He lived on the 
school grounds in one of the cottages and he had 
the most fantastic little garden out back of the 
cottage. Just roses---nothing else. Black China 
roses were what he’d said they were, a deep, dark 
red that was almost black. William had decided 
they were far more beautiful than any of the roses 
his father grew in their greenhouse. Of course, his 
dad preferred the softer colors.
 
Finding the spot just behind the rose garden 
William pushed through the bushes that hid the 
damaged wall. He silently dropped to his knees and 
crawled through the hole hoping the professor 
wouldn’t be too angry with him for coming without 
calling first. His dad had gone for his belt after 
he’d told him he was a right bloody bastard for not 
letting him do as he wanted. There hadn’t really 
been time to call as he fled the flat.
 
As he reached the end of the hole in the thick wall, 
he could hear his professor whistling to himself. A 
small smile curled his lips as he slipped through 
into the garden. He was about to stand and call out 
when he noticed what the professor was doing.
 
He was digging a hole---a very large one---and 
near by was a new rose bush still in the wrappings 
from a local greenhouse. Now that was odd, 
William thought, why would he be planting a bush 
this late at night? Moreover, it was October, not 
really the time of year to be planting---now was it?
 
Creeping on hands and knees behind the bush, he 
watched as the older man paused to light up a 
cigarette. He started to talk though William 
couldn’t see anyone else in the garden.
 
“Ahhh…what a lovely night isn’t it my boy. The 
stars sparkling and just the right bit of a chill in
the air.” He inhaled, then blew a soft cloud of gray 
smoke into the air. “It is quite sad when I must bid 
one of you lovely creatures good-bye, but young 
William is awaiting my attentions.”
 
A sudden chill crept down William’s spine and that 
tiny voice that always warned him to back off 
whispered in his ear. Something wasn’t right, he 
thought. He crept closer his knee landing on a twig 
causing it to crack. Sucking in a deep breath his 
eyes grew wide with fear as the man dropped his 
cigarette to the ground and crushed the glowing 
ember out.
 
William didn’t move a muscle as the man glanced 
around the garden with narrowed eyes. God please, 
he prayed silently, don’t let him see me. He held 
his breath as the seconds ticked by. 
 
“Oh, well then let’s get you taken care of sweet 
boy.” The professor knelt down disappearing from 
William’s sight and began to whistle. 
 
After a few seconds he stood again lifting some-
thing from the ground and as he turned William 
saw what he held cradled in his arms. For a 
moment, he thought he was hallucinating or 
perhaps this was all a bad dream. Definitely, a bad 
dream that had come about from a bit to much of 
his mother’s blood pudding. 
 
But it wasn’t now was it?
 
Gently cradled in his professor’s arms was the pale, 
nude, limp body of his best friend, Alfie.
 
No.
 
No.
 
Alfie was dead.
 
By the time he had truly registered what he was 
seeing William Flatley was screaming.
 

Chapter 8

***
 
Lightening lit up the thick darkness as Liam 
moved through the trees. He’d decided that 
staying on the main road would make them to 
easy of a target for the man who was hunting 
them. He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes 
listening for any sign they were being followed, 
though it was almost impossible in the storm to 
hear anything. Rather than easing off it seemed to 
be growing in intensity with each passing mo-
ment.
 
Another jagged streak of  silver tore through the 
pitch black clouds above ripping open their 
bellies. What had been a heavy rain now became 
a deluge that even soaked Liam through the 
canopy of trees. Opening his eyes Liam turned his 
mouth opening as if to speak when he realized 
that Spike was no longer with him.
***
 
Huddling beneath the thicket of bushes Spike 
whimpered lost in memories he had thought long 
hidden. He’d escaped that was all that mattered, 
but now he was trapped again. The walls he had 
erected over fifteen years crumbling like so much 
dust in the wind.
 
His trembling hand lifted swiping at the rain that 
ran down his face as he chewed at his lower lip 
like a small child. The whimpers escaping his 
throat turned to choked sobs as bile rose up from 
the pit of his gut. With each desperate sound he 
forced his mind to draw further into itself. His 
chin dropped resting on his knees as the 
horrifying memories drifted up and out of the 
grave he had buried them in all those years ago.
 
***
 
October 1989
 
Turning William ran like a frightened rabbit his 
chest tightening the air exploding from his burn-
ing lungs in an animal cry.
 
Alfie was dead.
 
As he hit the narrow passage at the side of the 
cottage he began crying. Tears streaked his face 
as he struggled with the gate latch.
 
His friend was dead.
 
No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get his 
numb fingers to work the latch. All he could think 
of was the way Alfie had looked in the pale 
moonlight. The bruises, the congealed black 
blood, and his eyes---oh, my God his eyes.
 
“…please…god please…” he whimpered as the 
latch finally released.
 
His professor.
 
His friend.
 
His mind was spiraling like dirty water down the 
drain. He’d known, William thought, he’d known 
that Alfie wouldn’t have run away from home. Of 
course he had never imagined that Alfie had been 
murdered.
 
Bile rose in his throat as he pushed the heavy 
wooden gate open. It had barely opened when a 
heavy hand settled on his shoulder yanking him 
around. His mouth opened a scream burbling up 
from his gut as the man in front of him---someone 
he had trusted completely---clamped his hand 
over his mouth cutting off the scream before it 
had a chance to escape.
 
“Hush now, William. Now this most definitely 
puts a crimp in my plans.”
 
William looked up with terrified eyes into the 
face of a man he had admired---a man he had 
respected. Shaking his head in denial he bit into 
the palm of the hand gagging him. A sharp bark 
of pain exploded from the older man as he yanked 
his hand back
 
“Now that wasn’t very polite---was it?” His hand 
swung around backhanding William across the 
jaw hard. 
 
William felt the sharp pain in his jaw as he bit the 
inside of his lip, fresh blood filling his mouth. He 
whimpered as stars danced behind his eyelids and 
he felt himself crumpling to the ground.
 
His professor knelt down close his voice a tight 
whisper. “That’s quite enough, boy. Do look at 
what you’ve made me go and do. Now I must 
punish you.”
 
Vision swimming William looked up and blinked 
at the face he had thought of as his friend, the 
moonlight reflecting in anger-filled eyes. He spit 
blood and held up his hands to ward off the next 
blow.
“…please…please, sir.”
 
***
 
This was bloody well getting out of hand, he 
thought, as he carefully made his way through the 
darkness. If it weren’t for the exquisite perfection 
of the boy he would kill them both. He heaved a 
sigh and swiped the rain from his eyes, rubbing 
the bridge of his nose in an effort to cease the 
beginning throb in his skull.
 
He paused cocking his head to the side listening 
carefully. In the distance he could hear that 
bloody detective moving through the darkness 
like a stampeding elephant. It wasn’t surprising 
that the arrogant oaf had no grace. Bloody 
Colonials were the most arrogant people in the 
world---thought that they were invincible.
 
Smiling he headed back towards the west where 
he had heard the cop stomping about. It was 
apparent that he’d been separated from his boy 
and was searching for him. That was the perfect 
solution though to the problem. He would take 
care of that idiot Hanlon first and then---well his 
boy would be easy to take back.
 
***
 
“How much further, Charles?” Pryce leaned 
forward in the passenger seat, the safety belt 
cutting into his shoulder, as the truck screeched 
around the curve of the highway.
 
“Dammit English! Do me a favor quit asking 
every five minutes ‘Are we there yet?’ and give 
Rosenberg in CSU a call.”
 
Raising a brow in annoyance Pryce peered out the 
windshield  trying to see beyond the storm as 
Gunn took another curve practically on two 
wheels. “Very well, Charles, but what am I to ask 
the young woman?”
 
Gunn glanced to the side for a split second, then 
growled low in his throat. “Ask her if she and 
Doyle have gotten anywhere with those fucking 
employee files from London. Okay?!”
 
A soft snort escaped Pryce as he fished in his coat 
pocket for his cell, then flipped it open to dial the 
number in question.
 
“CSU…Rosenberg…” came the exhausted sound 
of the young woman’s voice through the static.
 
“It’s Agent Pryce how is that research going Ms. 
Rosenberg?”
 
There was a low frustrated sigh, then the distinct 
sound of an Irishman cursing in the background. 
 
“Not good to be frank, Wes.” Willow sighed 
again and the sound of her fingers tapping against 
the computers keyboard filled his ears. “We’ve 
narrowed it down to males who taught at Delphi 
during the past twenty years. I use the word 
‘narrow’ lightly. The list includes about thirty 
names.”
 
Wes rubbed his eyes with a soft grunt. “So what 
else do we have? Honestly we need to get that list 
narrowed further. Has Doyle been of any help?”
 
“Yes, he has. We have a number of things he 
picked up about our suspect, but they’re just 
fragments…nothing clear nor concise.”
 
“Tell me Ms. Rosenberg.”
 
She began reading off a list of items that Doyle 
had given her---the frustration obvious in her soft 
voice. Pryce closed his eyes focusing on the 
words as he braced himself against the dashboard 
with one hand, the other clutching the cell.
 
“Stop!” He barked his eyes flying open. “Repeat 
the last three items.”
 
Gunn turned his head to give Pryce a wary glance 
as he maneuvered the truck around another 
dangerously slick curve. “What is it? What did 
they find?”
 
Hushing Gunn with a glance Wes began to 
mumble softly. “He was a music’s professor…the 
song…okay. The roses…that’s it. Rosenberg find 
out who the music’s professor was in…yes, 1989 
would be the right year. Oh, yes and find out 
everything you can about his hobbies, also his 
teaching credentials. Yes and there is one more 
thing. Search for any missing boys from the 
schools he taught at...runaways or definite 
deaths."
 
Clicking the phone shut Pryce turned grim eyes to 
Gunn. 
 
“So what’s the 411 Pryce?” Gunn asked without a 
glance from the rain-soaked highway. “Do we 
have a name for this sick mutherfucker?”
 
“Perhaps…” Pryce whispered, “…not sure, but I 
am sure of one thing.”
 
“What would that be?”
 
“William was not his first victim, but if we do not 
stop him he might be his last.”
 
***
 
Liam trudged through the darkness cursing him-
self for a fool. He should have brought a flash 
light, but then he was a city boy and how was he 
to know just how god damned dark it would be.
 
“William!” He screamed as he turned in a circle 
his fingers running through his rain-slicked hair 
nervously. “WILLIAM!!”
 
Behind him he heard the sound of something 
moving through the brush. He swallowed hard 
and stood as still as possible straining his ears in 
hopes of catching the noise again. Reaching for 
his gun carefully he began to turn his heartbeat 
racing.
 
“Will…” he turned suddenly only to be brought 
to the ground by a heavy weight his words cut off 
as the air exploded from his lungs.
 
“Bastard!” 
 
Liam twisted beneath the weight of his assailant 
with a harsh growl, His knee came up as his head 
was gripped by two strong hands, then lifted and 
slammed back. He grunted in pain as his knee 
connected with what he hoped to God was the 
bastard’s balls.
 
“You sick, twisted…” his assailant wailed in pain 
as Liam’s knee connected with his crotch. The 
man reared back falling to the side and rolling.
 
Scrambling across the muddy leaf strew forest 
floor Liam searched blindly for his gun. “Son of a 
bitch…” he mumbled as he staggered to his feet 
and turned to find the man gone---vanished into 
the shadows. “Where the fuck are you?!” He 
screamed.
 
“You’ll pay for that you sodding prick!” Came 
the answering voice edged with pain.
 
“Funny that you would use that word…seems I 
put a dent in yours!” Liam growled his eyes 
narrowing as he searched the shadows for any 
sign of movement.
 
“You touched him! You defiled him with your 
sickening, filthy cock!”
 
To his left Liam heard the crackling of branches 
beneath the roar of the storm. “If I’m not 
mistaken you already did that with your own---
you sick son of a bitch!” He backed away his 
gaze darting across the ground in search of his 
gun still.
 
“How dare you!” The man’s rich accented voice 
hissed from the shadows as he stepped forward to 
face Liam. “You were the one who defiled him!”
 
Liam’s body tensed in preparation of the fight he 
knew would come. Without his gun in hand and 
not knowing if the man in front of him had a 
weapon he needed to be prepared for anything.
 
“How old was he?” Liam growled. “How old was 
he when you forced yourself on him?”
 
A jagged streak of lightening tore open the sky 
followed by the distant roll of thunder. Flickering 
silver light glimmered off the rim of metal framed 
glasses perched on the man’s nose.
 
“How fucking old?!”
 
The man took a step forward his fists clenching 
and unclenching. “Old enough!” He snapped.
 
“Who were you to him? To that innocent boy you 
destroyed? A family member? A family friend? A 
teacher?” Liam began slowly moving to the left 
as he saw the expression change on the man’s 
face. “Hit a nerve---did I?”
 
Taking a step forward the man growled softly 
reminding Liam of a caged animal. “What do you 
know of perfection you great lummox? An 
exquisite symphony…a sonnet of such beauty it 
causes you to weep in joy? You would know 
nothing of these things. He was perfection 
molded by the hands of a God you can not 
comprehend!”
 
Liam’s foot hit his gun and he grinned. “A God? 
Is that what you think you are?”
 
“No, you bloody fool! I am his servant and he 
promised me someone who would be mine 
completely!" A soft growl of disgust escaped the 
man as he moved with Liam in a deadly dance of 
bodies. “I gave him what he wanted, but I had 
almost lost faith, then William appeared.”
***

London
October 1989
 
Head throbbing William woke with a soft 
whimper into a nightmare that would forever 
change him---though perhaps he hadn’t known it 
in that moment. Blinking in the dimly lit room he 
tried to focus and remember how he’d gotten here 
or where here was even. He turned his head to the 
left with a soft moan unable to understand why he 
couldn’t breath right either.
 
Candles, he thought, there were candles scattered 
around him. With a soft groan he tried to move 
his arms, but they couldn’t. They seemed to be 
held down---pinned by something. That was 
when he panicked. He was tied down with rope of 
some sort and the rag in his mouth left his tongue 
dust dry.
 
“Hush, precious…”
 
The sound of his professor’s voice was a soft 
breath of air against his ear. William tried his 
hardest to turn away, but the man’s slender strong 
fingers gripped his chin like iron rods.
 
“Open your eyes my precious rose.”
 
Blinking back tears of fear William allowed his 
eyes to drift open looking up into the face of pure 
evil. Who would have thought evil’s face would 
be so kind and yet his eyes were cold like the first 
frost of fall. He made a faint gurgling noise in the 
back of his throat as he met those cold eyes.
 
“You were always the one darling William. The 
darkness promised me the perfect creature of my 
dreams. If only you had not been so curious and 
followed my rules.” The man cocked his head the 
candlelight reflecting off the lenses of his glasses 
---almost, but not quite hiding the icy gaaze. “Now 
I must punish you for your inability to follow my 
simple rules. Why did you sneak in tonight with- 
out calling first?”
 
William whimpered as his vision cleared and he 
realized that the reason he was shivering was one 
part fear and one part nudity. His clothing was 
gone just like Alfie’s had been. Squirming he 
tried to escape the bindings that held him spread 
out like a feast for the wolves. And if there was 
one thing of which William was sure it was that 
the man above him was exactly that---a ravenous 
wolf.
 
The slender fingers stroked his jaw, then 
wandered lazily down his throat to trace his collar 
bone. “I do apologize for the gag, luv. I can not 
have anyone hearing you scream again and I am 
sure that you will." Slowly the cool fingers drifted 
down along his breast bone, then back up to circle 
one pale dusky pink nipple. “Still young enough 
not to show the full extent of manhood and 
yet…” his thumb and forefinger closed over 
William’s nipple twisting cruelly.
 
Crying out against the gag William’s tears began 
to fall trailing down his jaw into the soft tangled 
curls of his hair. This wasn’t real he kept telling 
himself.
 
Not real.
 
Not real.
 
His breath caught in his chest as his captor 
lowered his mouth to his other nipple, his tongue 
sliding over the delicate nub like damp sand 
paper. His mind tried to wrap itself around what 
was happening, but it couldn’t.
 
Whimpering softly he clenched his eyes shut as 
the man he had known as professor and friend 
suckled his nipple, one hand sliding down to his 
crotch. Those cool fingers teased at his flesh as 
the man lifted his head with a faint smile. He 
licked his lips and sighed.
“You taste of innocence and fear…” the man 
whispered softly. “Why do you fear me sweet 
rose? I offer you the world and the chance to be 
the one.” His fingers traced William’s limp organ 
as the boy trembled. “I had hoped you would 
understand unlike the others…perhaps you still 
might.” He raised one brow. “But now my sweet 
one I must punish you for being a naughty boy.”
 
William cried out his eyes popping open as the 
man’s fingers tightened around his cock and 
began to stroke roughly. 
 
“I had hoped to take you more gently, but you 
were foolish…” the man sighed in disappoint-
ment as he released the twitching flesh in his grip.
 
Taking a step back he moved across the room as 
William fought desperately to free himself. There 
was a part of him that knew what was about to 
happen and another part that refused to accept the 
truth no matter how dark it was. He stopped 
struggling as he felt a gentle hand stroke his 
trembling thigh and glanced up with terrified 
eyes.
 
“Even in fear you are exquisite…”
 
Those hands gentle, despite the coldness in the 
man’s eyes, lowered to spread him open. A soft 
moan escaped William as he began shaking his 
head trying to give his denial physicality. 
 
***
 
“He was nothing, but a child you sick fuck!” 
Liam hissed through clenched teeth as his gaze 
focused on the face of the demented man. “A 
child! Do you understand what you did to him?”
 
Soft laughter escaped the man in front of him as 
they circled one another. “He enjoyed my 
attentions---did he tell you that? He came hard 
and fast the first time I took him…” his lips 
curled up in smug smirk.
 
Liam tried to suppress the urge to vomit as he 
shook his head in anger. “Sick…” he hissed, 
“…how many others were there? He wasn’t the 
first was he?” 
 
Shrugging the man grinned wider, his teeth 
flashing brilliant white in the storm-drenched 
darkness. "The others were offerings to the 
darkness---dispensable.”
 
“They were just children!” Liam snapped his dark 
eyes flashing as he dove for his gun.
 
The other man roared in surprise diving on top of 
Liam as his hand closed over the butt of his gun, 
his fingers slippery with rain. Falling back Liam 
twisted trying to keep a grip on the gun and fend 
off the punches of the man above him.
 
“You will not…” the man’s fist connected with 
Liam’s jaw, “…take him from me!”
 
“Bite me you sick fuck!” Liam roared as his 
elbow caught the other man in the ribs.
 
Neither of them was aware at the moment of 
William’s presence as he hunched in the brush his 
eyes wide with fear. Neither did they realize that 
a decision would be made in the next few seconds 
that would change all their lives.
 
***
 
William had heard Liam’s voice faintly over the 
storm and he crept from the bushes on hands and 
knees. His breathing was erratic, his heart 
pounding, but his mind still recognized Liam’s 
voice as safety. Safety and security---the voice of 
home. 
 
Crawling through the mud shivering from the icy 
rain he made his way to the clearing where he 
saw Liam staring down a dark man. No, not just a 
dark man---he knew this man.
 
His heart began to speed up as his memories rose 
to the surface. The face of a trusted man from a 
time when he was innocent. A time when he had 
trusted and loved openly like every person should 
be able, too.
 
“Bastard…” he whispered his voice breaking.
 
****
 
London
October 1989
 
Back bowing William cried out in fear and pain 
as his assailant’s fingers impaled him. His chest 
tightened with each ragged breath as he tried to 
expel the fingers. 
 
“Now…now. Don’t fight my sweet rose. You are 
so beautiful like this---so sweet and tight. I can 
not wait to take you completely. When that time 
comes you will scream and beg for more.”
 
William shook his head furiously as he tugged at 
the ropes binding his wrists. This was not what he 
wanted, he didn’t want to be taken against his 
will. He didn’t want this man to touch him like 
this, but no matter how hard he fought his body 
reacted.
 
Reacted to the touch of the monster’s fingers 
deep inside him.
 
****
 
“You had no right!” Liam growled as he flipped 
the man off him. “You raped him! Took his 
innocence from him!”
 
Scrambling to his feet he panted as he watched 
the man get to his feet as well. He was scared like 
he had never been scared before. Not for himself, 
but for William---his Will.
 
Yes, Liam thought, William belonged to him now 
and damned if he would let this monster touch 
him. Liam’s gaze settled on the gleam of wet 
metal in the flash of lightening. The other man’s 
mouth twisted into a sneer as he lifted Liam’s gun 
aiming at him with a firm grip.
 
“Perhaps you thought yourself in charge? I think 
not you disgusting excuse for a man. I saw what 
you made my sweet rose do---kneeling in the 
floor, your cock in his innocent mouth. What 
makes you so different from me Detective 
Hanlon?” 
 
“I don’t rape children!” 
 
Eyes narrowing the beast in front of him snarled 
in anger. “Is that what you think? I am not a child 
molester. William knows to whom he belongs.”
 
Clenching his teeth Liam shifted to the left his 
chest heaving. “Is that why he ran? Is that why 
he’s been running for the past ten years?! He 
crossed a fucking ocean...left his home and his 
family behind!"
 
The man’s lips twisted in disgust as his hand---
gripped tightly around Liam’s gun---followed 
Liam’s movement. “I tire of this little game 
Detective Hanlon. William is mine…he has 
always been mine and he always shall be.”
 
“What about the others? What about the young 
men you killed in my town?”
 
“What of them? They were nothing, but whores 
to be used and disposed of. As a matter of fact I 
would think you would thank me for cleaning up 
the filth on your streets, detective.”
 
Liam snorted swiping rain from his flushed face 
with a steady hand. “Not in this lifetime…”
 
“Ahhh…well that is to be expected from such a 
fool as yourself.”
 
“So you have the gun…you have the power.” 
Liam smiled. “Tell me…how did he escape? How 
did William get away from you? The way you 
posed the others---does it tell me that?”
 
“Well…it appears you are not as ignorant as you 
first appeared, detective.”
 
****
 
November 01, 1989
 
How long he had been in the cupboard William 
wasn't sure, but he knew he had to escape. 
 
Tonight was the night.
 
Tonight the man who had held him, hurt him, 
would do what he had promised. 
 
William was terrified beyond words or imagi-
nation. What had been forced upon him thus far 
had destroyed his mind bit by bit, yet he still had 
a tiny bit of hope. He’d saw the small sliver of 
glass in the floor of the cupboard and prayed to 
whatever god might be listening that his captor 
would not discover it.
 
Somehow he had managed to pick up that tiny 
sliver and right at the moment was sawing at the 
thin baling twine that bound his wrists. His 
fingers were cut and bleeding, but he didn’t feel 
it. He’d ceased to feel anything from that moment 
he had been used---used and tortured by his own 
professor, even his own body had betrayed him. 
 
Soft whimpers escaped him as he recalled the feel 
of those fingers working him open and stroking 
that spot deep inside his body. He was suddenly 
drawn from his disturbing thoughts by the twine 
snapping. Tears welled in his eyes as he fought 
with the tangled pieces until his hands were freed. 
Yanking the gag from his mouth he gasped for air 
as he freed his ankles, then stood on weak legs.   
 
Now to get out of the cupboard, he thought, as he 
reached out with trembling fingers to grasp the 
doorknob. To his utter amazement it turned and 
for a moment the thought that this was a trap 
crossed his traumatized mind, but frankly he 
didn’t care.
 
Trembling William slipped from the cupboard 
into a narrow hall, blinking at the sudden glow of 
light. Quietly he began moving his way down the 
hall, his arms wrapped around his too thin chest 
trying to warm himself. He knew this hall. It was 
the main hall that ran the length of the professor’s 
cottage and if he remembered right, then he was 
heading towards the kitchen. At the end of the 
hall he stepped into the kitchen the stone floor 
almost icy beneath his bare feet and his gaze 
darted about the room in search of anything that 
would help him.
 
Eyes settling on the simple wooden table he 
darted across the room to where a wool coat hung 
over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. A soft 
sigh of relief escaped him as he wrapped the folds 
of the coat around his bruised and lacerated body 
careful not to cause himself anymore pain. The 
sleeves almost covered his bleeding hands, the 
tail almost fell to his ankles, and despite the fact
it 
smelled of his abuser he felt better.
 
On the table was a tin of tea biscuits and William 
felt his stomach grumble with hunger. Just one, 
he thought, as he picked up the tin with shaking 
hands and fumbled with the lid. Once open 
though he found himself desperately stuffing 
biscuits in his mouth---he was so hungry.
 
“Oh, dear what have we here?”
 
At the sound of that smooth voice William 
dropped the tin, biscuits scattering across the 
stone floor. He slowly turned, eyes wide with fear 
and smears of chocolate on his chapped lips, to 
look into his captors calm face.
 
“…please…please?” William choked out his 
body shaking in fear. “…please let me go. Won’t 
tell a soul…promise…”
 
His professor clucked softly in amusement, 
leaning in the doorway. “Do tell, William, why 
should I give up what is mine?”
 
William backed up shifting slowly across the 
floor until the table was between him and the 
monster. “…not yours…” he whimpered as his 
eyes darted about the room in search of an 
escape. He’d been so close, he thought, so close 
and now he was trapped again.
 
“Truly William I do wish you would be more 
accepting.” The man stood straight and took a 
step forward. “You are after all mine and to fight 
the truth is a useless agenda.”
 
Darting across the room William headed for the 
door only to be blocked by the larger man. Tears 
welled in his eyes as he backed away until the 
edge of his spine hit the counter top. His hands 
flew back to catch himself and that was when he 
felt it. His heartbeat began roaring in his chest as 
he looked up in terror at his captor as he moved 
closer.
 
“William my sweet precious rose…my delicate 
blossom you must accept the truth. Did not your 
body even tell you the truth? You enjoyed my 
attentions…the feel of my fingers sliding into that 
sweet virginal body…” the man smiled wide as 
he got closer his hands lifting to reach for 
William.
 
That was when William snapped.
 
It was as if he had stepped from his body and 
even as the years passed he would never truly 
understand where he had gotten the strength.
 
Lunging forward with a wild scream, his slender 
hands wrapped tightly around the knife’s handle 
he pushed the blade through the man’s left hand 
into his right, then he ran. He ran harder and 
faster than he ever had in his fifteen years.
 
As he hit the door running into the winter night, 
the snow freezing his bare feet, the sound of his 
captors furious pain filled screams echoed in his 
ears. It would be a sound that haunted his dreams 
for the rest of his life.
 
****
 
Now almost a decade later the past had finally 
caught up with him. The monster from his dreams 
had come back to claim him, but he was no 
longer that frightened fifteen year old boy. He 
was a man---a grown man. Yet still his body 
shook with fear or perhaps it was a combination 
of the freezing rain and his own fury.
 
“Is that why you wear the gloves?”
 
William was drawn from his dark thoughts by the 
sound of Liam’s voice firm and filled with a 
strength that warmed William’s frozen soul. He 
slowly stood his shaking hands reaching to the 
small of his back and feeling the slick metal that 
lay cradled there.
 
The other man snorted as he stepped closer to 
Liam. “The little bastard never knew how good 
he had it.”
 
“Good?” Liam shook his head in disbelief. “You 
beat him? Raped him? How is that good you sick 
mother-fucker?”
 
“Enough Detective Hanlon! Now the game is 
about to come full circle.”
 
William stepped from the bushes his eyes darting 
from Liam to the man he had feared his entire 
life, the monster who he had ran from. “No…” he 
whispered softly.
 
Liam looked up to see William standing in the 
rain, head lowered, his soaked body trembling. 
 
“Don’t, Will!” 
 
“No.” His voice was louder this time as he looked 
up at the man who had finally understood. 
 
Liam took a step forward as the killer turned his 
teeth gleaming in the predatory smile. 
 
“Ahhh…come to save the nasty little colonial 
beast have you, William?"
 
Head lifting higher Spike let icy cold eyes settle 
on the monster. But the monster wasn’t as scary 
anymore for some reason. 
 
“Will! Run!” Liam screamed over the roar of the 
storm. “Get the fuck out of here!”
 
“NO!” Spike screamed now. “Done running, pet! 
Done hiding!”
 
The beast began to laugh. “So the sweet little rose 
has grown some thorns has he? Do tell me 
William when did you grow some balls?”
 
Head snapping around Spike snarled. “William is 
dead you bastard! Died in a little stone cottage ten 
years ago!" His hand slithered to the small of his 
back fingers curling around the butt of the pistol. 
 
“Then I suppose that William won’t miss this 
useless tub of lard!” Turning with a quickness 
that shocked Spike the monster pulled the trigger.
 
There was a loud explosion and a flash of light, 
then Liam stumbled back a look of shock on his 
face as he clutched at his shoulder. Even in the 
dim light Spike could see the blood well between 
Liam’s clutching fingers.
 
“LIAM!!!” Spike screamed in horror as he 
watched Liam lose his footing and tumble over 
the edge of embankment. “You bloody bastard!”
 
Turning he barreled across the mud slicked 
clearing all thoughts of the gun forgotten. His 
body slammed into the monster’s and the gun 
went off again---bullet flying wildly into the 
storm.
 
****
 
They had just pulled into the drive of the house 
and were stepping from the truck when Gunn 
turned his head. A frown creased his brow as he 
reached for his gun.
 
“You hear that, English?”
 
Pryce nodded as he retrieved his own gun. “In-
deed I did, Charles.”
 
Gunn flipped out his phone and dialed 911 as he 
headed towards the tree line. “This is Detective 
Charles Gunn…LAPD…I have shots fired at 811 
Pacific Grove. Possible officer down…” rattling 
off his badge number he flipped the phone shut 
and turned to Pryce. “Time to teach you how we 
lowly LAPD do it, English!”
 
Shaking his head Pryce flipped the safety off and 
headed after Gunn, his coat flapping out behind 
him in the wild wind.
 
****
 
Spike was lost in a storm of grief and anger so 
bitter that all he saw was red. 
 
Red so like Liam’s blood.
 
“You sodding bastard! I’ve had enough! 
Enough!!” He didn’t even recognize his own 
voice cracking and screeching above the storm as 
his fist flashed with an almost inhuman speed. “I 
won’t run! I won’t bloody well hide anymore!”
 
The monster fought back, but he was older, 
slower, and he no longer held the upper hand. His 
skin split blood trickling from his quickly 
swelling lip as he tried to fend off the fists of a 
boy he no longer could control.
 
“William! Stop it this instant!” He roared flipping 
the younger man beneath him as he lost his grip 
on the gun. “You are being foolish and I shall 
have to punish you!”
 
“Fuck off!” Spike shrieked his voice edged with 
hysteria. “Won’t listen…won’t listen!” His 
knuckles were split and bleeding yet still he 
continued to take out a decade of terror and anger 
out on the beast above him. “Not yours! Never 
yours!”
 
Around them the storm reached it’s crescendo as 
legs and arms tangled, bodies rolling through the 
mud and debris of the forest floor. Leaves stuck 
in their hair, material ripped and shredded 
beneath clawing fingers, and blood mixed with 
mud as they slowly came closer to the embank-
ment. Finally the monster got the upper hand as 
he pinned Spike to the ground slapping him hard 
across the face.
 
“You little piss ant!” This time the slap was 
harder. “You think after ten years I will give you 
up? That I will bend to your will?” Another slap 
caused Spike’s head to rock back, fresh blood 
splattering across the rain soaked leaves. “I will 
not be defied! Your precious Detective Hanlon 
thought to stop me, yet where did it get him?!”
 
Spike whimpered and clawed at the man above 
him all human thought lost. There was nothing 
left inside him, but animal instinct. 
 
“He’s found himself at the bottom of a cliff by 
God!"
 
That was the moment Spike froze his soft 
whimpers ceased as he looked up into the eyes of 
the beast.
 
Liam.
 
Shot.
 
The cliff---he had fallen over the cliff.
 
The only one who had ever loved him.
 
The only person who had ever wanted him.
 
With a roar Spike brought up his hands and his 
knees. A shocked expression crossed over the 
beast’s face as Spike pushed him up and back 
sending him hurling over the cliff. 
    
Eyes widening he felt himself falling as he 
clawed out desperately grabbing the edge of the 
cliff. He panted harshly as he fought to keep his 
grip on the slick crumbling earth. Above him 
Spike slowly got to his feet.
 
“William…” the beast gasped as he looked up at 
the harsh blue eyes. “Help me.”
 
Spike looked down into the face of the man who 
he had once trusted. That had been so long ago, 
but now he was older---wiser. His hands hung 
limp at his sides as the storm roared around them, 
his face emotionless. 
 
“Why?” He spoke his voice calm for the first time 
since he had entered the clearing.
 
“Please, William. You know you can not let me 
die. I am a part of you...you are mine...you 
always were." His fingers dug deep into the mud 
as he dangled from the edge the ocean far below 
crashing on the beach. “You are mine, William!”
 
Kneeling in the mud, Spike’s gaze drifted to 
where Liam’s gun lay and he reached out his 
fingers curling around the butt. “No…” his voice 
was empty of all emotion now, just as his eyes 
were. 
 
Slowly he lifted the gun and studied it, then 
glanced back down at the older man dangling 
from the cliff’s edge. His pale face streaked with 
mud and blood, surrounded with tangled wet 
silver-white curls was reminiscent of a fallen 
angel as he focused on the man. To be honest he 
felt like one as well, he thought, fallen and lost.
 
“You wanted my innocence…” Spike whispered, 
“…wanted my purity.”
 
The beast began to shake his head as he realized 
that there was no winning this time. “William? 
William?”
 
Slowly Spike got to his feet once more and a 
demented smile curled his lips. “You got my 
innocence you bloody bastard. Are you happy 
now?” He slowly lifted his arm aiming the gun at 
the man clinging desperately to the cliff edge at 
his feet. “Are you?”
 
“William…” the man glanced up at the boy above 
him.
 
“William died long ago…you saw to that didn’t 
you? Well, now there’s no one left, but Spike and 
he is far from innocent.”
 
The barrel of the gun came to rest, aimed at the 
knot just between the beast’s eyes. Slowly Spike 
pulled the trigger and the gun fired. A look of 
shock crossed the beast’s face as the bullet 
penetrated his skull. His fingers flexed as he 
jerked and the last thing he would ever see was 
the pale face of a boy who no longer existed.
 
“Good-bye Rupert…” Spike hissed through 
clenched teeth as he watched Rupert Giles’ body 
tumbled down into the dark waters below.
 
****
 
When Spike came back to himself he was 
huddled on the ground the storm now a light 
drizzle. He pushed wet curls from his face and let 
out a soft whimper.
 
“Liam…” he whispered as the tears flowed down 
his already rain soaked face.
 
“Jesus…fuck that hurts…”
 
Glancing at the edge of the cliff Spike’s eyes 
went wide as a hand reached up and over the 
muddy edge. A few seconds later Liam Hanlon’s 
bruised and bloody face appeared as he struggled 
to pull himself up with one arm.
 
“Liam?” Spike scrambled across the ground on 
hands and knees. “Liam…I thought…”
 
Liam’s brow furrowed as he smirked at Spike’s 
expression. “Yeah, well if you don’t help me here 
I just might be yet.”
 
With trembling hands Spike reached out and 
gripped Liam’s arm tightly. He braced his feet 
and pulled with all the strength he could muster.
 
“Shit! Fuck me!” Liam growled as he managed to 
get a foothold and push himself up. “Show that 
asshole who a tub of lard is…” he grumbled.
 
As Spike pulled him the rest of the way up they 
collapsed into a pile of wet, muddy, abused flesh 
panting for air. Finally Liam sat up clutching at 
his shoulder with a wince and a hiss. 
 
“Where…?” He glanced around in confusion.
 
His words were cut off by Spike who threw 
himself into Liam, encircling him with shaking 
arms, and hanging on for dear life. Wretched sobs 
tore from the younger man as he burrowed his 
face in Liam’s chest.
 
“…thought…thought…”
 
Liam glanced down and lifted Spike’s chin with 
his fingertips. “Hey…hey now…it’s okay.”
 
“I…I…” Spike stuttered softly, “…I killed the 
beast…he’s gone…”
 
“Hush, baby…hush Will…” Liam wrapped his 
good arm around Spike pulling him close. “I got 
you, Will…I got you.”
 
****
 
By the time Gunn and Pryce found the clearing it 
was over. Liam was sitting in the mud with Spike 
in his arms humming softly as he rocked the 
younger man.
 
“Well, doesn’t that beat all hell?” Gunn turned 
smiling at Pryce.
 
Pryce shook his head in disbelief as Liam looked 
up mouthing ‘bastard is dead’ and glanced 
towards the cliff. “Yes…” Pryce smiled gently as 
he watched Liam kiss the top of Spike’s head, 
“…I do believe it does, Charles.”
 
In the distance the roar of sirens filled the pre-
dawn air as the storm retreated into the eastern 
sky.
 
****
 
Three Hours Later
 
Liam was tired of the poking and prodding. He 
was tired of the endless questions. All he wanted 
was to see Will.
 
Trudging up the stairs---his arm in a sling---he 
reached the end of the corridor where a uniform 
stood outside one of the bedrooms. The young 
man looked up and grinned.
 
“Officer…” Liam glanced at the man’s name tag 
and raised a brow, “…Osborne?”
 
“Yep.” The officer raised a brow in amusement.
 
“How’s William?” Liam grinned at the officer    
 
“Quiet…paramedics left a bit ago, sir.”
 
Liam nodded thoughtfully. “Do me a favor would 
you---Oz.” He motioned to the stairs.
 
“Got ya.” 
 
As soon as the young officer disappeared down 
the stairs Liam reached out and opened the door 
with a shaking hand. He was afraid of what he 
would find on the other side of that door. The 
look in William’s eyes had been enough to tell 
him the young man had been in shock. Not 
surprising considering what he had done. Liam 
remembered the first time he had taken a human 
life and it hadn’t been a pretty thing.
 
The door swung open slowly and he stepped into 
the shadowy room. Glancing around his gaze 
settled on the chair next to the window where 
William sat curled a blanket wrapped around him.
 
“Will?” Liam whispered softly as he closed the 
door behind him. “You awake?”
 
William lifted his head and turned towards Liam 
his face starkly pale in the darkness. Tears glist-
ened on his cheeks highlighting the dark bruises 
along his jaw.
 
“Hey…” Liam moved across the room and knelt 
at William’s feet, “…why the tears?”
 
“I…I killed him…” turning back to the window 
William swallowed hard. “I’m a monster…a 
monster like he was.”
 
“Never. You did what you had to Will…did what 
any person in your situation would.” Reaching up 
Liam cupped William’s chin, his thumb caressing 
his trembling lower lip. “He took something from 
you---your innocence. He raped you, tortured 
you, and when you escaped he hunted you like an 
animal.”
 
William turned his face into Liam’s hand sighing 
softly as his eyes opened. “But I could have 
ran…I should have. You told me, too.”
Leaning in Liam pulled William closer and kissed 
him softly at first, then harder and deeper. Moan-
ing in need William let his lips part allowing 
Liam’s tongue access to the warmth of his mouth.
 
“Never a monster…” Liam whispered against his 
lips as he drew back to take a breath. 
 
Slowly he stood taking William’s hand in his and 
drawing him to his feet. The blanket slid down 
William’s shoulders to pool in the floor and Liam 
was surprised to find William naked. A smile 
teased his lips as he pulled William to the bed.
 
“Expecting me were you?” 
 
A soft blush rose in William’s cheeks as his eyes 
lowered to the floor. “I was…I suppose I’d 
hoped, pet.”
 
Liam laughed as he pushed William back onto the 
bed carefully tugging off the sling. “No need to 
hope Will…no need at all. I’m here”
 
Eyes growing wide William pushed himself up on 
his elbows. “Does it hurt much, luv?” His voice 
was soft and filled with worry.
 
Looking up his hair wildly mussed and his tee-
shirt tangled around one arm still Liam chuckled 
as he looked into William’s eyes. “Hell, yeah it 
hurts, but you’re worth it.”
 
Liam dropped his tee-shirt to the floor, then 
kicked off his sneakers as he struggled with the 
fly of his jeans. A soft grunt of frustration 
escaped him as William reached out his fingers 
curling into the waistband of the offending jeans.
 
“Let me help you with those.” 
 
Laughing Liam let William tug him closer to the 
bed by his jeans and watched as nimble pale 
fingers slowly unfastened one button at a time. 
His chest tightened as he looked into those deep 
cobalt depths filled with so much love and 
something else he hadn’t seen before.
 
Freedom.
 
It was as if a huge weight had lifted from 
William’s soul, as if Liam were truly seeing that 
innocent boy he’d never met.
 
When his jeans were finally unbuttoned Liam 
leaned in capturing William’s mouth with his in a 
passionate kiss. As he deepened the kiss he 
pushed his jeans down his hips wiggling until 
they were around his ankles, then kicked them off 
never breaking the kiss. With a sigh he pulled 
back licking his lips and smiled.
 
“You are fucking beautiful…my beautiful Will.”
 
Pushing William back he knelt between those 
long, slim, muscled legs lowering himself down 
until their cocks brushed. William mewled softly 
his hips surging up as Liam leaned in kissing 
along his jaw and down his throat.
 
“…beautiful…perfect…” Liam mumbled against 
the smooth curve of his collar bone.
 
“God…Liam…” William moaned his hips thrust-
ing up as Liam’s mouth left a trail of butterfly 
kisses along his skin. “Never knew it could…that 
it could be this good.”
 
“Only for you baby…only for you…” Liam 
whispered as he took one nipple in his mouth 
suckling it as he reached between their bodies and 
wrapped his hand around William’s cock.
 
Soft grunts exploded from William as he thrust 
into Liam’s warm fist, his head thrashing from 
side to side. “Want…god want…” he whimpered.
 
“Yes?” Liam raised a brow as he looked up into 
William’s flushed face. He blew gently on the 
damp nub watching as it peaked and hardened.
 
“Want you…” William panted softly, “…want 
you inside me so bad. He spread his legs wider in 
an open invitation.
 
Growling Liam blinked trying to hold back the 
need to bury himself in that tight, lithe body. 
“Will…sweet mother of god. A work of utter 
beauty…” he bit his lip as he continued stroking 
the pulsing hardness in his hand, “…plenty of 
time for that baby.”
 
With soft whoosh of breath he leaned in again 
and began trailing kisses down Will’s heaving 
chest. When he reached his stomach his tongue 
darted out swirling around his navel causing a 
burst of laughter to come from Will’s lips.
 
“Tickles…” William grumbled squirming 
beneath Liam.
 
“Now does it?” Liam’s dark brow rose as he 
tickled Will’s navel again with his tongue. “I like 
it when you squirm for me, Will.”
 
William whimpered his hips surging up once 
more. “Yes…god yes, luv. Anything…anything 
for you my angel.”
 
Releasing William’s erection Liam lowered 
himself off the bed onto the floor on his knees. 
He grasp Will’s hips pulling him forward---
flinching at the pain in his shoulder---until his ass 
was even with the bed. Will glanced up his eyes 
glittering with lust, love, and laughter.
 
“Lube?” Liam whispered his voice a low raspy 
growl.
 
“Bedside table, luv.”
 
Leaning over he reached into the bedside tables 
draw and pulled out a tube, then chuckled. “Umm 
…flavored? That’s perfect for what I had in mind. 
Now baby spread your legs as far as you can.”
 
William grasp his thighs pulling himself wide 
open and Liam moaned at the sight. He fumbled 
with the lube, then tossed the lid aside with a 
growl, turning the tube up and squirting the liquid 
out. Watching with dark eyes he smiled a preda-
tory smile as the slick liquid trailed down Will’s 
crease and small shudders traveled through the 
young man.
 
“Cold…” Will whimpered, his hips squirming.
 
“Not for long.” Came Liam’s soft growl.
 
Grasping Will’s ass-cheeks in his hands Liam 
used his thumbs to spread him open further as he 
squeezed and massaged the firm muscles. Soft 
moans filled the air as he leaned closer massaging 
the lube along Will’s crease, his fingers trailing 
down to circle the tight pink bud. The scent of 
cherries filled his nose and he chuckled to himself 
at all the comebacks for that.
 
“Li...Liam…please…” Will panted.
 
Without a word he leaned in and ran his tongue 
along the silky crease and over the twitching 
pucker. William’s hips surged up wildly and he 
gasped and moaned.
 
“Like that now---do you my blue-eyed boy?”
 
“…yeeesss…”
 
Smiling he leaned in again swiping his tongue 
along the twitching flesh, tasting the lube and the 
underlying musky flavor of Will. Using one hand 
to keep Will spread open he teased along the cleft 
and circled his twitching opening with one finger.
 
“…ggg…god…” Will choked and whimpered.
 
“More baby?” Liam asked.
 
A soft mewling was the only reply as he pressed 
his finger to Will’s opening and pushed. Slowly 
his finger sank into that hungry body until it was 
seated deep. “God you’re so tight baby boy…”
 
Gently he pulled out then pushed back in as 
Will’s back bowed, his ass pushing back. With a 
smile he began to pump his finger in short thrusts 
until Will was squirming in need, then he pulled 
out and pressed two fingers into the slick tight-
ness.
 
“…oh…oh god…pleasssseee…”
   
Liam pump his fingers faster and with each 
inward thrust he curled the tip stroking that small 
spot that sent Will thrashing against the sheets. “I 
love to watch you like this…so beautiful and 
open to me. Touch yourself baby…touch yourself 
for daddy…” he hissed softly.
 
All it took was that one word and William gasped 
his hands moving up to stroke along his chest, 
then his belly. “Yes…daddy…” he whimpered as 
his trembling fingers curled around his own 
erection. “Anything for you…anything…”
 
His hip surged up as Liam added a third finger 
pumping and twisting until he was a mass of 
trembling flesh. A deep moan ripped from his 
chest as he tightened his fingers and pumped his 
cock faster.
 
“Gonna come…” he whimpered.
 
“Not yet my beautiful blue-eyed whore.” Liam 
growled pulling his fingers free causing William 
to whimper softly. “Daddy wants you to ride 
him.”
 
Standing Liam crawled onto the bed pulling 
William on top of him with a smile. He was 
fucking amazing, Liam thought, so amazingly 
beautiful. William sat up his knees on either side 
of Liam’s thighs, his hair a mass of sweat tangled 
curls, a sheen of perspiration glistening against 
the backdrop of his flushed pale skin. His eyes ---
the color of polished sapphires---were filled with 
so much need and desire that Liam found himself 
wanting to weep. 
 
“Liam…” William whispered softly as he shifted 
up so he was right above Liam’s straining cock. 
“I love you.”
 
With those three simple words he reached down 
and grasped Liam’s cock causing a moan to rip 
from his throat. His eyes glistening with unshed 
tears he lowered himself down with a soft purring 
sound taking in every inch into his slick, tight 
opening.
 
“Love you, Liam…” he sighed his face almost 
angelic in the dim light.
 
Liam looked up into William’s eyes swallowing 
back his own tears. He’d never thought he would 
be given another chance to be happy, but at the 
moment he was far happier than any man had the 
right to be.
 
“Love you, too…my beautiful boy.”
 
Then William began to move and the world 
outside vanished. There was only the two of them 
and nothing else. Liam’s back bowed as he thrust 
up into that sleek heavenly body, his hands lifting 
to grip William’s hips.
 
Only the two of them and soon they were just 
one.
 
Their hearts.
 
Their souls.
 
Their bodies moving in unison.
 
Just one complete being.
 
William threw back his head and cried out, tears 
streaming down his face as Liam’s hand moved 
to encircle his cock.
 
“Love you…love you…” Will gasp with each 
breath as he was filled over and over.
 
“Beautiful…so fucking beautiful and perfect. 
Never wanted anyone like I wanted you, Will.”
 
Liam drew up his legs thrusting his hips faster as 
William writhed above him. His breathing grew 
more erratic as he felt himself reaching the edge 
of the most intense orgasm he’d ever 
experienced.
 
“Come for daddy…” Liam growled as his fist 
sped up stripping William’s throbbing cock.
 
Throwing back his head William screamed as his 
cock exploded over Liam’s fist. Pearlescent drops 
of cum splattering across his chest and Liam’s. 
His muscles tightened around Liam’s cock and 
seconds later Liam’s answering scream echoed in 
the silence. With one final spasm William fell 
forward his face burrowing into Liam’s convuls-
ing throat.
 
The real world slowly came back bit by bit as 
they lay tangled in each others arms. Liam 
chuckled softly as his hand lifted, his fingers 
threading through William’s damp silken locks.
 
“You suppose they heard us?” Liam whispered 
softly.
 
“…don’t bloody well care…” came William’s 
muffled reply as he snuggled deeper into Liam’s 
throat.
 
Another soft chuckle rumbled through Liam’s 
chest as he slowly shifted, pressing a kiss to 
William’s temple. “Neither do I baby…neither do 
I.”
 
****
 
Epilogue ~ One Month Later
 
 
Caritas Night Club
Backstage
 
Liam moved through the narrow corridor his eyes 
searching for one thing and one thing only among 
the overactive labor men and performers. As he 
searched he reached up scratching 
absentmindedly at the healing wound in his 
shoulder.
 
“Liam…darling!”
 
He looked up as Lorne, the owner, wove through 
the crowd. Lorne was a showman one-hundred 
percent through and through. Standing at six feet 
he was svelte and classy in a dark gray silk 
double-breasted suit with an emerald silk tie that 
mirrored his eyes perfectly. His perfectly coifed 
hair was dark blonde with frosted tips, on his 
fingers gold and diamonds caught the light 
sending it sparkling across his perfectly 
manicured nails.
 
Liam couldn’t help, but to want to run and hide 
beneath the nearest box, desk, etc.
 
“Hey, Lorne.” He grinned sheepishly.
 
Sweeping Liam into his arms Lorne kissed first 
one cheek, then the other. “I suppose you are 
looking for your little cupcake.”
 
“Lorne…” Liam growled in warning.
 
Dismissing Liam’s growl with a flourish he 
wrapped his arm around Liam’s shoulders 
guiding him through the crowd. “I do believe 
sweet William shall be the bell of the ball so to 
speak. He is just sex on a stick, honey.” Leaning 
in close he whispered in Liam’s ear softly. “You 
must tell me where you found him and if perhaps 
he has an equally tasty friend.” 
 
“Lorne…” Liam rolled his eyes.
 
“Oh, yes…sorry pumpkin. Will seems to be 
having a moment.” Pointing to a shadowy 
corridor Lorne smiled a knowing smile, then 
patted Liam on the back. “I’m just absolutely sure 
you can make his moment and it’s a bit private 
back there…well if perhaps you want to give him 
an encouraging talk.” Lorne winked at Liam, then 
left in a swish of silk and a cloud of Polo.
 
With a put upon sigh Liam shook his head and 
wandered into the shadowy corridor. Lorne could 
be a trial at times, he thought to himself, but he 
was thankful for what Lorne was doing for Will.
 
He was barely a few feet down the corridor when 
he saw William leaning against the wall, one foot 
braced against the wall, the other planted firmly 
on the floor. A cigarette dangled from his slender 
fingers as his platinum head bobbed to music 
only he could hear. His lips were moving as he 
silently sang to himself.
 
Frankly Liam had never seen anything so 
beautiful in his life. William was wearing a pair 
of faded jeans that cupped the curve of his ass, a 
white tank top, and over it all a dark blue short-
sleeved shirt with inserts that resembled leopard 
spots of dark blue and scarlet. Leaning against the 
wall Liam took in every inch of the man he had 
fallen in love with and smiled. It was amazing 
what fate could hand to a lonely cop in his 
darkest hour or what she could give a man on his 
last leg.
 
Clearing his throat his smile grew wider as 
William turned to look in his direction, his cobalt 
eyes sparkling even in the shadows.
 
“Hey, luv…” William whispered, a tiny smile 
quirking the corner of his lip.
 
“Hey.” Liam straightened and moved to where 
his lover stood. “You nervous?”
 
“Naw…” William kept the straight expression for 
a mere second, then shook his head laughing. 
“Who am I bloody well kidding? I’m sodding 
terrified.”
 
Liam pulled William into his arms, stroking his 
back gently as he whispered in his ear. “No need, 
Will. You’re fucking incredible even Lorne 
thinks so. You’re going to knock them dead.”
 
Pulling back William looked up with wide eyes 
and smiled at Liam. “You would say that, pet.”
 
“Not just saying it, Will. You are an incredible, 
sexy, talented man. You’re everything a man 
could ever want in his life and you’ll do great---
got faith in you.”
 
Leaning in he took Will’s lips in a deep kiss, then 
pulled back with a gentle smile. “Now go knock 
them dead---okay?”
 
****
 
Out in the main club Wesley sat with Winifred at 
his side as Charles and his wife Lilah approached 
the table at the front of the stage. Wes stood as 
Charles grinned his dark eyes drifting to Wini-
fred, then back to Wesley.
 
“About damn time you stubborn geek.” Charles 
chuckled. 
 
Lilah rolled her eyes and smacked Charles’ arm. 
“Show a bit of decorum, Charlie!”
 
“Yes, dear!” Gunn snorted, then leaned in kissing 
his wife’s cheek. “So is Rosenberg joining us, 
English?”
 
“A bit later I suppose. Her partner had to work 
late and she promised to get here as soon as 
possible.” Wes settled in his chair.
 
As Lilah and Charles took their seats Doyle 
appeared waving from across the crowed club. A 
few moments later he’d joined them his eyes 
sparkling with amusement. “So have any of you 
lads and lasses heard Liam’s squeeze sing 
before?”
 
Before anyone could answer a round of applause 
rose as a slender man dressed to the hilt appeared 
on stage in the spotlight. With a flourish of hands 
he smiled and spoke into his mike.
 
“Welcome! Welcome ladies and gents to Caritas! 
I am your hostess with the mostess, Lorne and we 
have a fantastic show for you tonight!”
 
Another roar of applause filled the club along 
with catcalls as Liam appeared slipping into his 
chair next to Charles. 
 
“William, okay?” Charles leaned in with a raised 
brow.
 
Liam chuckled, mock punching his partner. “He’s 
a bit nervous, but he’s fine. Hey, Wes anything 
back from Interpol, yet?” 
 
Glancing up Wes nodded. “Inspector Lensal sent 
a report via e-mail to me a couple of days ago. 
Rupert Giles was a busy psycho apparently. The 
cottage that William spoke of at Delphi is now an 
official crime scene. At least three bodies have 
been unearthed and now all his previous residents 
are being investigated.” Wes paused fingering his 
glass as Winifred laid her hand over his other. 
“How is William doing with the whole…shoot-
ing?”
 
Liam frowned. “Better…we’ve been seeing a 
counselor---together and separate. Some night-
mares, but that’s to be expected.”
 
Gunn smacked Liam in the back of his head 
playfully. “Enough business chat boys, okay? 
Will’s getting ready to sing.” 
 
Chuckling Liam picked up his beer taking a sip 
his gaze drifting to the stage where Lorne was 
beginning his introduction.
 
“So sweets without further ado I am pleased as 
punch to introduce a newly discovered talent. So 
ladies hold onto your panties. Introducing Will 
Flatley.” Lorne began clapping as he stepped into 
the shadows.
 
Silence moved over the room as the heavy dark 
stage curtains drew back to reveal William sitting 
on a stool beneath a soft violet spotlight. In his 
arms he cradled the Fender Stratocaster that Liam 
had given him. 
 
A lone platinum curl fell over his brow as his 
fingers whispered over the strings. Just a light 
touch, but the music that came forth was heart-
breakingly sad and sweetly dark. Seconds later 
his voice rose rich and smooth blending with the 
mournful notes that rode the silence of the room.
 
~~~
 
In the midnight of my rose garden, 
In the nightmares of my troubled mind, 
I wonder…
 
The grass between my toes, 
the twigs that brush my arms, 
the thoughts that flow though my curious mind.
I wonder…
 
The beauty through my eyes, 
the way I see the world…I wonder.
 
The words upon this page, 
the way I write this way…I wonder.
 
The way I wake in morning, 
the way you look at night…I wonder.
 
~~~
 
Liam sat his eyes locked  on William as he lifted 
his head. William’s eye glittering with pain and 
something deeper locked on Liam’s face as he 
continued singing.
 
~~~
 
My love for you, 
your love for me…I wonder.
 
I wonder why I wonder…
but what’s life without wonder I wonder?
 
and I wonder what I did to deserve you
and I wonder what it was that made you love me
and I wonder how long will you stay?
 
~~~
 
A tiny smile played along William’s lips and 
Liam returned that smile as he sipped his beer.
 
~~~
 
but I don't wonder how long I will keep you
and I don't wonder what it is that made me love 
you and I never wonder how long I will stay
 
~~~
 
William’s voice rose with the same passion that 
shone in Liam’s eyes.
 
~~~
 
I will stay with you forever
I will love you everyday
I will wonder no longer
because you chased the wonder away…
 
~~~
 
As the notes faded away the lights dimmed, then 
rose as did the applause. William stood and bow-
ed as the crowd went wild. As he lifted from the 
bow his gaze met Liam’s and his smile widened 
lighting up his face.
 
From across the room Liam mouthed three simple 
words as he clapped harder than anyone else.
 
‘Neither will I.’
 
The End