Page 54 of Priest

Once upon a time, Priest thought Jeremiah had been a little too paranoid.

Now, with Oliver pressed against his side and so achingly vulnerable, he was grateful for it all.

Knight opened the door ahead of them, and Priest immediately got a whiff of rich spices. Slate was obviously there because he cooked when he was stressed, and Priest couldn’t help his excitement because he loved Gargoyle cuisine.

“Remind me to stress him out more often,” Priest said as the doorway led directly into the kitchen.

“Fuck off,” Slate muttered, not turning away from the stove.

Oliver shot Priest a curious look, and Priest kissed the frown off his lips. “He only plays chef when shit’s hitting the fan. So, you know, good and bad.”

Slate turned and glowered at Priest, then softened his gaze when he locked eyes with Oliver. He was a very quiet, stoic man who kept his cards close to his chest. But nothing enraged him more than those with power using it to ruin the lives of people who had none.

“There’s plenty for you if you’re hungry.”

Oliver blinked. “Oh. Me?”

Slate’s mouth twitched, and he gave a single, regal nod. “Mm.”

Priest grinned as Oliver stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Thank you. I’m Oliver, by the way.”

“I know. You’re pretty famous around here.” They shook hands, and Priest fought the urge to yank Oliver away. A little touching was fine, but it was lingering too long.

Slate eventually pulled back and shot Priest a look rich with understanding. “Go put your shit away. Sunshine’s waiting to talk to you. Those of us who didn’t get a week vacation with a Dragon Hoard have already been briefed.”

Priest growled, but he hurried Oliver along through the archway and down a long corridor. His bedroom anywhere they went was always the second to last on the right, and this was no different. He opened the door and found the layout just theway he liked it. A large bed in the center, blinds drawn, a single dresser, a desk, and a doorway that led to an en suite.

He envisioned a long, hot bath with the two of them later. But for now, they didn’t have long to explore. He shoved their cases against the far wall, then pressed Oliver next to the door and cradled his face.

“Tell me how you are.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and attempted to push Priest back, but he was either weak from travel or not using his newfound strength to move him because Priest didn’t budge. “I’m fine.”

“Do you still feel him?”

Oliver closed his eyes, breathed, and the heat of his powers reached out, brushing against Priest. He wanted to drag his fingers through the tendrils, but he was afraid to disrupt his lover. “I can feel him. He’s closer. He’s…” Oliver opened his eyes and licked his lips. “Something’s changed.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He just… He feels different. Like he’s dying, except he’s not.” Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath. “I don’t know what this means.”

“It means we’re on a short timeline,” Priest said. “But we’re close, and I don’t think we’re too late.”

“Promise me,” Oliver said, his voice trembling and his eyes red-rimmed. “Please.”

Priest hated himself for lying because he couldn’t actually make that promise. He didn’t know who had taken Poe and why. He didn’t know what the human had been through and what his life would be like after they got him back. If he’d recover from the weeks of captivity.

But he also couldn’t stand seeing Oliver so terrified.

“I promise.”

Oliver sagged forward, laughing wetly into the front of Priest’s shirt. “I know you don’t mean that, but thank you.”

Priest kissed the side of his neck, then urged him to straighten. “Come on. The sooner we’re debriefed, the sooner?—”

“You can eat?” Oliver teased.

Priest growled and darted forward, nipping at his ear. “The sooner we can get started on our rescue mission, little human.”