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Killing What Comes Natural

She had rushed to work, sheepish and quiet when she walked into The Pearl’s headquarters and seeing so many people already bustling about. It was all the detective’s fault. Rory put on her game face, smothering the smile that threatened to make her look like some dip-shit school girl. It was becoming dangerous keeping around her new pet.

Watching the intimidating figure of her boss shuffle about at his desk somewhat awkwardly was amusing for her. However, as much fun it was to tease him, something was off about the whole thing. In fact, the past few months were strange concerning Gale O’Kirk. When he looked up at her, she hid all thoughts and concerns for him away and plopped down in a chair.

“Where’s your draft?”

With a smile on her face, she slapped a folder onto his desk. As soon as Mark had left the day before, she had turned on her phone. As suspected, everyone in Pearl it seemed had tried to get a hold of her. Berating herself all the way to headquarters, she vowed to not let her relationships take up her concentration. This was a critical time in the city, and she should have been alert to when the killer struck again. As she listened to the radio on the drive she felt her blood sing. This was probably going to turn into the biggest story of her life.

“There you go, boss. And this is a huge one.” Rory took her traditional position, propping her feet on the edge of his desk.

“Oh?”

“It’s been affirmed, the former ambassador Knightly has become the next victim of the serial murders.”

“Your

source told you this?” Gale smirked on the word, having a hunch the new detective enlisted to aid her was more than that.

“Yes,” Rory smiled, not taking the teasing bait. “Not only that, but another token was left behind.”

“A coin again?”

“Not this time. A charred children’s toy was in her hand. A small, plastic monkey. Those things were sold at the little gift shop at Worthington.”

“So this is for revenge.” Gale stopped moving things about, leveling his gaze at the woman.

“It seems that way. The victims have all been directly involved with the way things were brushed over concerning the bombing before and after.” She went on when he only nodded, “police are pretty sure about the next target, though nothing is concrete.” In silence she added that she wouldn’t print that anyway. Mark’s superiors would know someone with his access was leaking information. It was best to just wait and see if their theories were correct assuming Ortonse Fisher was next.

“How’s that all going?” she nodded to his injured arm.

“Fine, should be normal in another week.” He saw her staring and rolled his eyes, giving an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, it’s just a pulled muscle. I neglected cleaning my garage, was in too much of a hurry, and paid the price.”

“Some dangerous boxes,” she said and let her eyes drift to the cut on his left cheek.

“Are you done?”

Rory smiled sweetly, knowing the expression would further annoy him and rose without another word. When she closed his door she let the frown come to her lips. It wasn’t so much that he was acting strange, but his behavior was odd anyway. Everyone who had worked with him practically since the beginning knew of his past.

She had been there, seen him dash out of the office on his way to the zoo and then watched his slow decay before he wound up in the hospital. While he enjoyed his restful suicide watch, she had visited him a few times. Gale didn’t snap at her and kick her out like many other people that came to his room. Rory was a friend to his family and had even baby-sat his little one on a few occasions.

There had been nothing in him those weeks after the bombing. Even today she shuddered when his dead eyes came into her memory. However, once he was declared sane by his psychologist and was released from the hospital, there was a strange glint in his eyes. He was still robotic, but sometimes there was a flash of something there before he hid it away from everyone around him. He had never spoken of his hatred, but she could feel it boiling beneath his calm since day one. Even before the tragedy, he had felt anger and frustration for the entire island.

When Sean and Bastian died his hatred consumed him. He didn’t have to say anything. Rory could tell by the way he withdrew from the world and his attitude toward the city that he hated what Pearl had turned into. So with this in mind, she found it strange the way he reacted to the murders. First Andre Tatou and now Mika Knightly. All who would be left was Ortonse Fisher. Gale hated them all, yet treated the news about the killings so professionally. It was morbid, but she had been expecting a more thrilled reaction every time one of them turned up dead.

Maybe Gale was too far gone, even his hatred was fading to nothingness.

* * * * *

Stumbling outside onto the balcony, Calen greedily sucked in a lungful of fresh air. He held it in for a few seconds before sighing. His headache was getting stronger. Wincing, he slammed the doors closed, still hearing the thumping bass of the music from inside his house. Ortonse was throwing another party and once again made his son come along.

Calen gripped the railing and brought his stomach under control. He hadn’t even drunk much alcohol. No, the blame for his discomfort tonight was due entirely to the bright flashing lights, fog machine, and song after song of techno-dance. Plus he was just in a foul mood. A snarl came to his lips before he took a swig from his drink.

Three weeks.

The night he had received the strange call was the last time he had heard or seen anything of Gale O’Kirk. How could he do that to him? Everything had been going fine, he felt like he was helping, and suddenly the man cut off all ties with him. Why? Three weeks and not another word from him. He couldn’t have been finished. Ortonse was still alive.

“Where are you?” Calen growled, letting his eyes drift over the city beneath.

The music became louder and giggling soon followed. He kept the groan from reaching a loud volume as he looked over his shoulder. Ortonse walked out, a woman on each arm, followed by Kit. His father laughed along with his companions, nibbling on the redhead’s ear while nuzzling the brunette’s neck. Kit smiled charmingly at him, used to and ignoring Ortonse’s behavior and leaned on the railing next to him. Calen gave a polite smile in return but didn’t greet him as his father took that moment to sling his arm around his neck.

“There you are, my little wonder child.” He hugged him close before pushing him away to give him an affectionate look-over.

“I take it you have gained another backer?”

“Mmm, indeed. I was celebrating, but found my only son was not at my side, as he should be for this occasion.”

“I’ve been at your side to celebrate the last five times, Father,” Calen said, edging closer to the man’s drink in hopes of snatching it away from him. “How many of these has he had?” he asked to Kit.

“Not nearly as many as he usually does. Don’t worry, he’s only buzzed. It takes a lot more than that to get him drunk.”

“What are you two plotting?” Ortonse waggled his eyebrows at them as he grabbed his dates around their waists. “Come on, let’s go back inside!”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stay a bit longer in the fresh air.” Calen’s stomach churned at the thought of breathing in more of the man-made fog, cigarette and joint smoke, and liquor fumes.

“You don’t look well,” Kit said, suddenly at his side again.

Calen blushed, thankful that is was dark out and that his face was already flushed from the heat of the party, as Kit lifted his face to him by his chin. The man’s black eyes bore into his and he couldn’t stop the near frantic movements of his hands as he politely pushed him away. “I’m fine, thank you. It’s just stuffy in there is all.”

“Would you like to go somewhere else? I can take you anywhere you like.”

“Good idea,” Ortonse said, pausing in his kissing. “I insist, Calen. It hasn’t escaped me that you don’t really enjoy this as much as we do. Let Kit show you around to some night spots our lovely city has to offer.” Seeing his son open his mouth to object, he lifted his hand for silence. “Just go. There will be many other times once you’ve gotten used to your new life to enjoy my little get-togethers.”

On their way past, Calen’s breath hitched as Kit laid one hand on the small of his back while his father gave them a wolfish grin. “And have some fun for once, Calen!”

As Calen was led to a shining silver car, he could not shake the dread curling inside his gut.

* * * * *

The drive had taken close to an hour. When the brightly lit places of Pearl’s night life whizzed by, Calen’s anxiety bled to confusion. Kit only smiled slightly, eyes remaining on the road, when he was given a questioning look. Calen gave up, letting himself be “surprised” as he listened to the faintly playing radio while watching the scenery pass.

The car stopped and Calen watched as Kit walked to his door and opened it for him. Why he had let him he didn’t know and mentally cursed himself for it. Kit was being terribly obvious, and Calen was letting him pursue him. If he let him know he wasn’t interested in him it would make things easier on them both in the long run. He stepped out of his seat and tensed as immediately Kit put a guiding hand once again on his lower back, leading him away from the car.

He was going to put an end to whatever the older man was thinking could happen between them when the sounds of waves reached his ears. A firm wind rose up and Calen couldn’t help but smile as cool ocean air caressed his face. The smell was salty and clean and felt like it blew the pollutants of the city off of him. They walked up to the edge of the pier and Calen looked over the steel balustrade.

The darkness of the midnight made the waters black, but the sky from where they were was incredible. From there they could see the Northern lights. Old America could not be seen but he knew it was there. Everything and nothing lay across the liquid beyond. For the first time, Calen considered the isolation of Aquaria. Down a few miles from them were the ferry docks. It was closed but he knew a line would be formed hours before it opened. So many wanted out. Only those that had to or didn’t know any better came in.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Calen said to distract himself and smiled at the taller man. “For a second there I thought Ortonse planned on you taking me to a club or something.”

“You didn’t want to go to something like that. You needed some fresh air and quiet.”

“Well thanks.”

Calen watched out of the corner of his eye as Kit rose from where he was leaning on the rail and turned to him. Kit’s hair whipped about him, licking around his face like a thousand jet snakes. He was staring at him again and Calen felt his body tremble as he imagined those shiny black eyes fixed on him with powerful concentration. He felt scorched by Kit’s stare. The youthful man remained watching him and Calen bit his lip to keep from speaking.

“You despise your father and I for what we do.”

It was not a question.

Calen snapped his head toward him, not believing he had heard right. Kit’s face was serious, though a kind of sadness was in his eyes and curving his mouth into a slight frown. Calen squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. There was no need to lie outright to him.

“Despise is a strong word, Kit.” When the man didn’t get angry or try and speak he felt he needed to say more. “I…just wish that you all could do things legitimately. I wish that you didn’t hurt so many people just for power and money. I’d be happier to be around you all if it weren’t for my conscience.” He shouldn’t care to make him feel better. Kit was as deranged as the others. Why was it so easy to forget his black heart when he was around him?

“Calen, haven’t you seen by now that it isn’t about money for Ortonse and I?” Kit’s tone began to take on a desperate note even though he remained soft-spoken. When all he got was a scoff for a reply, he pressed on. “Pearl, Aquaria—this whole group of islands, wouldn’t know what to do with themselves without someone guiding them. Ortonse is pretty fair, considering what a man like him could choose to do. All he wants is compliance. I have been with him long enough to know that he means the best for Aquaria.”

“And when they don’t comply what? Another Worthington?” Calen bit out.

“It was unfortunate, what happened, but his hand was forced. The previous government made it so that there was no other option.”

“There’s always an option. There’s always a moment when you can choose not to go down that road of no return.”

Kit held off on smiling. Calen was so passionate about things. “Sacrifices always have to be made when momentous changes occur in history.”

Calen scoffed again, turning fully to Kit. “And what of his decadence? The drugs, the parties, the murders, and the suffocating control he likes to exercise on the city?”

“Who am I to deny him when he needs to unwind? Ortonse has always been a free spirit. The city suffers from his ‘suffocating control’ when he is unable to relax and let go for a moment.”

Calen shook his head and let his eyes lower. They felt wet with tears and he became angry knowing he was letting his emotions get a hold of him. It was obvious that Kit didn’t see what was wrong. He was too much like his father. He tensed and inhaled sharply when suddenly one of Kit’s arms was around his waist and his other hand was tilting his head up. He caressed his cheek with his thumb while he pulled him close.

“You’re so sensitive, Calen. Look at you, ready to spill precious tears for things that are dead in the past. You’re so untouched.” Kit relished the feel of his soft skin beneath his hand and let his palm glide down his slender neck. He petted the fine hairs at the base of his scalp.

Calen put his hands out against his broad chest, not pushing him away because he was too stunned to move much. “Kit—”

“Join us, Calen. If it truly bothers you, don’t let it stew in your mind and do nothing. Ortonse has been waiting for you to help him with business. You both are brilliant and together could quickly make Pearl what he has only dreamed about. With you there to put in a more sensible opinion, events like Worthington would never happen again.” Not able to hold off any longer, Kit leaned down and brushed his lips against Calen’s cheek. “We could do so much together.”

Calen gulped, blushing hot as he continued giving his cheek and behind his ear delicate kisses. He fisted his hands into his black coat and began to shake. This was wrong. Kit was psychotic, a murderer, and agreed with his father. He shouldn’t let this happen. A groan escaped him as Kit pressed his soft, warm lips against his sensitive throat. Without thinking, he tilted his head to the side and Kit eagerly set to work giving him a hickey.

Kit stopped and brought the young man’s attention back to him. When he found his eyes looking cloudy and apprehensive up at him through his messy blonde bangs, he felt his insides collapse. Calen was the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen. He loved those eyes. They were like pieces of sky. Throwing his patience aside, Kit leaned down again. He was sick of waiting. The feel of Calen’s sweet lips against his sent a jolt through his body. He gripped him tighter, delighting in the small whimper the action caused.

The smaller, graceful hands against his chest pushed harder and Kit groaned as he finally gave up and fell into his hold more. As delicious as his petal lips were, he wanted to sample something far sweeter. His tongue slid easily into Calen’s mouth and he amused himself by coaxing the young man’s slick muscle to come and play. He smiled around their kiss as he lured Calen into his mouth so he could suck on the tip of his trembling tongue. His hands were just going to start wandering when a loud crash filled the night and the ground shook beneath their feet.

Kit tore his mouth away fiercely, immediately gathering his bearings while Calen sagged against him and gasped for air. They didn’t have to look around for the source of noise. Large balls of fire erupted into the night, lighting the sky with a dirty orange haze. Even from the docks they could see far enough into the city and find where the destruction lay. Kit narrowed his eyes, his exterior not betraying the anxiety he was feeling.

“Oh my God,” Calen breathed, his eyes widening as realization dawned on him.

The billowing pillars of smoke and fire took the place where Mecca Corporations once stood.

“We have to go,” Kit said, reining his emotions back under his tight control. Grabbing Calen by the hand, he all but dragged the stumbling man back to his car. What the hell was happening?

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