Page 8 of Natural-Born Cullers

Light seemed to chase the reference, then he snorted a small smile as he unwrapped a fork. “I’m just here for the food, mate. But thatwouldbe you overstepping the mark. Again.”

“It’s a habit. A bad one.” Martin offered a smile. “You open to admitting yours yet?”

Light fixed him a look, just a brief one. “There’s no tag around your leg nowadays, mate, and yet here you still are… with him.” He flicked a look at Gray. “That says what about you and playing it soft nowadays?”

Martin threw a smile Gray’s way too, just briefly. “Yeah, a little strange how we’re both still here, eh, Piper? The tunes he makes us dance to, huh? Or tries to at least, bless his little Welsh socks.”

“Yeah? You two done?” Gray took his seat. “I have a lesson to get through before my meeting.” He eased the cover off his own food as Light scratched his head down at the food, his knock with Martin shifting away like the play of finger over guitar string and a change to different tune. He’d put on a little weight over the months, but like now, there was no real interest in the food, just a means to an end. Light would drink his coffee, then work his way, start to finish, through most things put in front of him. He ate, but it was deceptive. He ate because he’d made mistakes before over not eating when it had come to running on empty. So he didn’t run on empty anymore.

Gray eased back and sipped at his coffee, watching him. Light had upped his muscle mass. His body was more shaped, finely defined with the slender play of muscles surrounding that youthful height of his, and all a damn sight healthier than when they’d first met.

Mixed in with a diet and daily swimming, the change was subtle, but so carefully thought out. He hadn’t lied with what he’d said about being here for the food. And that was okay. They both knew why Light didn’t choose to miss any meals anymore, what intel he wanted and who he’d try and use to get it.

Gray bit back a snort as Simon pushed back through, and the pan and brush went back in the cupboard before he came over and took his place at the table, opposite Light. Yeah, there was Light’s focus: Simon, more his dark web intel on the cullers. Simon knew it, but his look strayed up and down Light’s body as Light sat shirtless at the table. His frown seemed to ask if Light played that… temptation too.

Light glanced back at the door, the cupboard, then at how Simon sipped at his coffee, but was the only one out of the three of them who didn’t have any food. Martin never ate here. Chemicals at hand or no, his look said he’d never really trust Light.

Flipping the lid to the cover that had kept his food warm, Light threw Martin a look, then scooped some sausage and bacon into it before pushing it Simon’s way.

Martin snorted at the deliberate offer, then glanced around the table, resting on each of them for a second. “Yeah, fuck this,” he said, unfolding his arms. “I can watchThe Walking Deadon Netflix to see how all thisfamily eating each othershit is gonna play out in the end, thanks.” He looked at Gray, then turned away.

“Martin.”

He glanced back at Light as Light took a sip of coffee.

“Tell Jack thanks, yeah? He’s a good cook.”

Martin narrowed a look on Light, as unsure as Gray at just how to take that. It didn’t sound like a dig at Martin not being able to tell Jackanything, but Light had a habit of biting back at the best when the best stepped close to his. And Martin had just stepped close to Simon.

“Whatever, kid, just don’t choke too much on your food there.” Martin went to leave, but Simon called out, stopping him. As Martin cocked a brow, Simon thumbed back into the kitchen.

Jack’s phone sat dejectedly on the kitchen floor.

“Fuck.” Martin went over and picked it up. He did “mobile” phone about as well as Jack did social. He’d been brought up on landlines and still couldn’t quite get into the habit of not leaving Jack’s phone crying on its own. That was the third time this week he’d dropped it.

As Martin left mumbling to himself, Light started eating and a frown went his way off Simon. Feeling was still there for Light, but Simon was damn sharp too. He stopped eating and pushed his food away from Light’s offer of a shared meal at his table. He wasn’t here to be used. Simon’s silence said that, and Light’s look up at him, his soft, snorted smile only said… prove it?

Gray simply drank his coffee. He was getting used to Light’s more subtle play of hand when it came to chess moves and game play.

But then Gray had been playing the field a lot longer, and there really,reallywasn’tmuch left out there to surprise him and pull him out of the game anymore.

Chapter 4

Candy Cane

“C’mon, we’re up.”Alectugged out his earbuds as his bus stop rolled into view, forcing him to nudge his elbow into the man next to him when he got no reply. “Hey. This is us, bro.”

Stood next to him,Canedragged his look up from his mobile phone and rested on the small line of commuters waiting as the bus’s air brakes came on. “Fuck. Already?” he mumbled, his hold on the rail not stopping him from lurching forward a little.

Alec steadied him. A few hours away yet from the early morning rush hour, they’d had their choice of seats, but now stood waiting to get off as a mum with two kids still managed to shove into Cane’s leg, threatening to kneecap him if he didn’t get moving. Alec bit back a grin when Cane’s glance over his shoulder had the young mum wincing, then mumbling an apology.

The morning commute fromThornton Heathinto Farringdon was a death run on the best of days, but this was London, so it came with the job. Mondays were a little easier. Alec had to be in work two hours early, so Cane came along with him to grab a coffee at the café close to his work that never seemed to sleep. The blistering morning heat they couldn’t escape, and no doubt in a few hours the amount of perfume, cologne, and deodorant choking the air wouldn’t be enough to hide the sweat stains and fears over today being Monday morning, all play and smiles drained as the weekend serenity was blasted away with the start of another working week.

The pressure didn’t touch Cane too much, and a calm look came Alec’s way, bringing with it a light shine to startling blue-hazel eyes that held Alec still for a moment. Black shading around Cane’s eyes with matching black lipstick gave him a hard quality, but it lied. The look was meant to warn people off because he was a true cuddler at heart, he just didn’t like to show it. Since his late teens, he’d loved movie nights on Fridays, a blanket on the sofa, crisps, a few beers, that look of his mostly drifting Alec’s way as Cane had edged closer to him on the settee through the years.

Alec had looked away each time with a smile all of his own, but, like now, Cane’s look had him edging closer in his own way as he tugged him off the bus.

Sun hit Alec’s eyes, and he tugged down his sunglasses as Cane bumped into him in the mix of the few people clambering off the bus. A hand came to his hip from behind, and Alec took the hint to scoot acrossFarringdon Street and not slow his fast walk until he hit the quiet of Charterhousea few minutes later.

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