Warrior's Cross Page 13

  “You had your chance,” Julian told him calmly. He pulled the trigger three times, barely blinking as the gun popped in his hand.

  Then he turned and walked away, leaving the restroom and heading out into the empty hallway. Across from him was a large, enclosed cafeteria area for school trips, and Julian knew on either side of him there were stairs leading up to the main floor. Why the man hadn’t tried for them, Julian couldn’t guess. People did odd things when they ran for their lives. They also did stupid things when they were stupid people, but that was just Julian’s personal opinion.

  He also knew that on the other side of that bank of windows in the McDonald’s on the far end of the museum was an outdoor courtyard surrounded by a brick wall that would be easy to scale. He headed there, not yet hurrying. He hopped over the barriers, grabbed a heavy metal trashcan, and broke the lock of the gate that was supposed to keep people out of the fast food restaurant when it was closed. He wasn’t worried about cameras; he’d already taken care of those.

  He kicked the gates open and headed for the wall of windows, dragging the can behind him. The snow fell in the darkness outside, melting as soon as it hit the ground, creating a peaceful scene in the brick courtyard on the other side of the tinted windows, but not one that would hinder his plans. He couldn’t have investigators finding any tracks in the snow. Or lack thereof. Julian cocked his head, reared back, and chucked the trashcan through the nearest window.

  Alarms began to blare as the glass shattered, and Julian turned on his heel and ran back into the belly of the museum, heading for the nearest stairwell and losing himself in the maze on the floor above that made up the Africa and animal exhibits.

  He turned one corner, then another, and yet another as he heard the commotion behind him. The noise emanated from the lower floor, where he had just been, and Julian slowed as he walked around glass cases of preserved animals. He had all the time in the world since he’d mangled the museum’s security system to the point that it wouldn’t be up and running for quite a while.

  They would find the body soon enough and call the police, and the museum would be almost as crowded with investigators and forensics people as it was during the day with tourists. It would be simple for him to use one of his fake “official” identifications to slip out through the chaos. Hanging around and waiting was so much easier than running like a criminal through the darkened alleyways of the city.

  He stopped at a case near the far wall of the exhibit, his breathing and pulse slow and even as he unscrewed the silencer from his gun and replaced both pieces under the folds of his heavy coat. He pulled off the black gloves he wore and stepped closer to the glass case to study the lions inside.

  He’d seen the Lions of Tsavo many times during his years in Chicago, but he was always compelled to come back. They were much smaller now than they’d been when they lived, their hides having suffered maltreatment over the years before they found their home at the Field Museum. The lions weren’t really all that impressive if you knew nothing about them. They were positioned like tame housecats, looking out at passersby with mere curiosity. The Maneater of Mfuwe on the floor below was much more physically striking.

  But some people claimed the eyes of the Tsavo lions followed them when they walked by. Julian had never seen that. To him they seemed timid and conquered, held in this glass case for eternity as punishment for their sins. But underneath that, the Tsavo lions had a feel to them, one Julian knew all too well.

  They were simply evil.

  They had killed more than one hundred and forty men during the latter part of the nineteenth century in Africa, and that was just the men the British railway had counted. No one knew how many undocumented African and Indian workers had lost their lives to these two animals. It was far too great a number in far too short a time to have been from hunger or even territorial protection. Julian tended not to listen to the various and sundry scientific theories of why these two male lions had gone rogue and killed men together. He had his own theory.

  They simply enjoyed what they did.

  Julian sighed softly, cocking his head as the commotion in the far reaches of the museum died down. By his count, his tally was almost even with the lions now.

  Cameron bent over, laughing so hard that he could barely stand up. Every time he tried to stop, he’d snort and start laughing again. “God. I wish I had a camera!”

  “Shut up,” Julian mumbled at him as he struggled with the four tumbling puppies. Every time he extracted one from his long, flowing scarf, another would take her place and begin tugging again. The scarf was hopelessly wrapped around the legs of one of the puppies, who was upside down and struggling to turn over, and Julian was so obviously uncomfortable with the tiny animals anyway that he could barely touch them to untangle them as his scarf choked him.

  Snickering, Cameron finally dragged himself away from the door to help. “You have no idea how adorable you are right now with that look on your face.”

  “They’re so little!” Julian insisted in frustration. He picked one up to demonstrate, holding it in the palm of one large hand as the puppy’s tiny tail wagged between his fingers. “How can they be so little and so mean at the same time?”

  The earnest question set Cameron off into peals of laughter again. “They’re little, yes, but they make up for their size with their attitude,” he managed to respond. “And Westies aren’t mean. They’re tenacious.” He stooped over to unwrap Scarlet from Julian’s scarf.

  “Why do you have four of them, anyway?” Julian asked grumpily as he bent to carefully set the puppy down again. “And why the hell do they like me so much?”

  Cameron swiped at Julian’s scarf and wound it around his hand, pulling it over the other man’s head before yet another puppy could latch onto it. “Well, originally I was going to get two so they’d be company for each other,” he said. “When I contacted the owner, she had a litter of three. I didn’t want to leave one alone. So I got Cobalt, Scarlet, and Saffron. A few weeks later a friend of mine saw Snowflake at the Humane Society shelter. I figured one more wouldn’t make much difference.” He chuckled and picked up Saffron and Snowflake. “And they like you because you’re so very likable,” he said with a grin, leaning to steal a kiss.

  “Fascinating,” Julian grumbled as he looked down at the pandering puppies in distaste and then reached to pet each of them on the head daintily.

  Cameron smiled warmly. “Thank you,” he said. “Now get Cobalt and Scarlet, and we’ll put them in the playpen with some snacks so you can have some peace,” he teased.

  Julian looked down at the other two puppies. He frowned, bent over, and picked them up carefully. He carried them over to the playpen and knelt to place them inside. Cameron knew he was afraid he would drop them if he tried it any other way.

  Biting his lip, Cameron watched Julian being so careful, finding it endearing and hilarious at the same time. “They will get bigger. They’re just babies right now.”

  “They’re evil,” Julian announced with certainty as he looked down at them.

  Cameron snickered again and set the other two in the playpen. “Yes, we’re planning to take over the world.”

  Julian muttered under his breath and shrugged out of his coat.

  Cameron raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” Julian answered as he tossed his coat on the back of the couch and turned to face Cameron with a small frown.

  “Right. Sure you don’t want to share? I can always let them out again,” Cameron mentioned.

  “No, that’s okay,” Julian said quickly.

  Cameron laughed and walked over to stand a foot away, hands on his hips. “You know, if you’re so uncomfortable around the dogs, we could go somewhere else.”

  Julian inclined his head slightly, a hint of discomfort showing in his eyes. “I don’t mind the dogs,” he finally responded.

  “If you change your mind, we can always go out,” Cameron said, shrugging. “I don’t mea
n to trap you here,” he said, his voice and manner obviously reluctant.

  “Do you want to go out?” Julian asked uncertainly.

  Cameron met Julian’s eyes and shook his head. “I want you to myself,” he admitted.

  Julian smiled widely and nodded. “Good,” he responded softly.

  Cameron took that last half-step and slid his arms around Julian’s neck. “Good,” he whispered just before pulling Julian down for a kiss.

  Julian hummed happily and wound his arms around Cameron’s waist. “I love Tuesdays,” he murmured against Cameron’s lips.

  Cameron smiled. “Me too.”

  Julian grinned and gave Cameron’s ass a pinch.

  “Ow!” Cameron yelped. “What’d you do that for?”

  “Because it’s fun,” Julian answered enthusiastically.

  “For you, maybe!” Cameron objected. “Ow!”

  Julian snorted and easily picked Cameron up so his toes dangled above the ground and gave him a little kiss. Cameron laughed and set his hands on Julian’s shoulders. “Okay, I cannot tell you how much I like it when you do this.”

  “Oh, really?” Julian asked with a smirk.

  Cameron grinned and kicked his feet gently, but couldn’t get any footing on the hardwood floor. Julian tightened his grip and kissed him slowly. Cameron sighed against his lips and opened his mouth to invite a deeper kiss.

  “Would you care to do anything before I take you to bed?” Julian asked in a low voice.

  “Um. Not that I’m not really interested, but I have something for you first,” Cameron answered as he was held suspended.

  Julian blinked in surprise, but then he smiled slightly. “It better be damn good,” he whispered teasingly.

  Cameron didn’t smile; he was suddenly nervous. “You’ll have to tell me, I guess,” he said.

  Julian’s smile fell as he saw that his teasing had fallen flat, and he slowly released Cameron and nodded obediently.

  Biting his lip slightly, Cameron backed away once he was solidly on his feet. “Why don’t you go ahead to the bedroom, and I’ll bring it in there?”

  Julian looked at him curiously and nodded again, moving slowly.

  Cameron watched him until he disappeared into the darkness behind the screens. He walked over to the desk and slid open a drawer so he could pull out an envelope. He’d prepared it over the weekend, and he’d wondered ever since if it was the right thing to do. He held the envelope in his hand for a moment as he doubted himself. What if it was too fast, too much, too soon? What if he scared Julian off? It had only been a month or so…

  But he’d already told Julian he had something to give him. He couldn’t back out now.

  After another few moments’ waffling, Cameron grew annoyed by his indecision. He turned on his heel and walked between the screens to join Julian. He approached the bed where Julian sat and held out the envelope. Although he wasn’t shaking, he was afraid his voice would crack if he tried to speak.

  Julian looked down at the envelope and then up to meet Cameron’s eyes questioningly.

  Cameron’s lips pressed together for a moment. “It’s for you,” he said shakily. “Don’t… ” He gave a short, nervous laugh. “Don’t feel obligated to accept.”

  Julian took the envelope without looking away from Cameron. He smiled at him affectionately and carefully slid his finger under the flap of the envelope as he looked down at it. He glanced up at Cameron one more time and then peered into the envelope. It held a keycard and a key, both strung on a simple black woven key chain. Julian blinked down at it before looking up at Cameron in surprise.

  “I said any time,” Cameron said, not mentioning the fact that Julian already seemed to be able to get into the building without the card. “I meant it. I want you to know you’re welcome here.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Julian said candidly. “Thank you, Cameron.”

  “You’re welcome,” Cameron answered as he watched Julian carefully.

  Julian stood and picked Cameron up again with a smile. “I’m thrilled,” he whispered.

  Cameron gasped softly in relief as he braced one hand on Julian’s shoulder. “I’m glad I made you happy.”

  “Well, it’s Tuesday,” Julian murmured with a smile as he slowly turned them in a circle. “You always make me happy on Tuesdays.”

  “Technically, it’s Wednesday,” Cameron corrected.

  Julian hummed in acknowledgment. “Spoilsport,” he accused softly.

  Cameron’s smile was unrivaled. “But you’ve been with me all the Tuesday nights and Wednesday mornings lately,” he pointed out.

  “That’s true,” Julian acknowledged with a grin as he set Cameron on his feet again. “Perhaps we’ve earned ourselves another day.”

  “Yeah?” Cameron asked hopefully. He’d love to see Julian more than one night a week. He’d wondered sometimes why Julian couldn’t be here more often, besides the obvious explanation of work. Julian had to sleep at some point, didn’t he? Why couldn’t he do it here? But Cameron kept those questions to himself. They’d almost argued once over Cameron pushing for information, for explanations. He didn’t want to risk it happening again.

  “I’ve seen you at the restaurant every Tuesday for months,” Julian was saying as Cameron thought about the situation. He looked down at Cameron curiously. “Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve… Do you ever not work?”

  Cameron gave him an amused smile. “I guess we have that in common, don’t we?”

  Julian shrugged. “Do you work so much because you like it or because of the money?”

  “I do like it a lot,” Cameron admitted as he slid his hands into his pockets. “And the money’s nice, but I inherited the condo, and I’ve got more than enough money saved up for just me and the dogs that I wouldn’t have to work for awhile if I didn’t want to. Mostly it’s because I don’t have anything else to do.”

  “I’d like to see you more,” Julian told him bluntly. “Perhaps we could both pick a day to be free?” he asked. “Then you could have something else to do.”

  Happiness clutched at Cameron’s chest. His joy at that idea was clear on his face. “I’d really like that.”

  Julian grinned widely and nodded. “Good. Is it easy for you to get nights off?”

  “It’s my job to make the schedule,” Cameron answered with a small smile.

  “Any night but Sunday and Monday,” Julian told him with a smirk.

  “Damn.” Cameron huffed. “The restaurant’s closed on Mondays; that would have worked well,” he told Julian with a frown.

  “The restaurant’s closed on Mondays because Blake is busy with his other business responsibilities,” Julian answered vaguely, smiling slightly.

  “Oh. Well, will we still have Tuesday nights?” Cameron chanced, knowing better than to delve further into that little tidbit of information.

  “I wouldn’t miss them,” Julian answered.

  “How about Fridays for a regular day off? For all I know, you look different by sunlight,” Cameron prodded.

  “I’m actually a blond,” Julian deadpanned. Then he smiled crookedly. “I like it.”

  Cameron chuckled over the joke and then hummed agreeably, closing his arms around Julian’s middle and hugging him close. “You mentioned taking me to bed?”

  “Yes, I did.” Julian picked Cameron up completely and turned fluidly, tossing him onto the bed without the slightest effort.

  Cameron yelped in surprise and laughed as he bounced on the mattress and looked up at Julian. “You enjoy that, don’t you?”

  “Immensely,” Julian growled with an evil smirk as he crawled onto the bed.

  Blake Nichols sat in his office, tapping his pen against the desk as he watched the little television in the corner. Cameron sat across from him, patiently waiting until the news story ended before he spoke.

  “Authorities are still baffled by the murder of Theodore Young,” the news anchor said. “Young, a research assistant at Chicago’s Field Museu
m, was found Thursday night in the men’s room in the Museum’s basement after an alarm alerted museum security to a break-in. He was shot three times in the chest. While the Chicago PD is remaining silent in regards to the circumstances of the murder, an insider claims the killing looks to be a, professional hit. The thirty-eight-year-old Young was said to be assisting on—”

  Blake reached over and turned off the television before the anchor could drone on. “Some people just have no luck, hmm?” he said to Cameron with a wry smile. “Can’t even take a piss without getting it,” he mumbled as he fiddled with some papers on his desk and then looked up at Cameron again. “Now, what was it you needed?”