Destroyer of Worlds Read Free

realized
immediately there weren’t any windows. So
no leaving the easy way.
    A desk stood in one corner of the bedroom. An
unused sketchbook lay on it, along with a set of colored pencils
and charcoal. “Your file said you worked as an artist in
Charlotte,” Forsyth said from the doorway, when Caleb picked up the
sketchbook. “I don’t know if you normally use pencil, but it will
give you a creative outlet while you’re here at least.”
    Was it supposed to make him feel less freaked
out? Because honestly, it had pretty much done the opposite. Caleb
put the sketch pad back and slid open the closet door. Inside hung
several sets of identical loose gray pants, without pockets, and
white t-shirts.
    Huh.
    “ This way you won’t have to worry about
clothing during your stay,” Forsyth said.
    Caleb closed the closet. “You guys have
thought of everything.” Everything except a computer and phone.
Looked like they didn’t want him communicating with the outside, at
least not on his own. “You said I could call John?” Might as well
find out now.
    “ Of course. I’m sure Agent Starkweather
will be happy to hear from you. Cell phone or webcam?”
    He really wanted to see John’s face right
now. Actually, he really wanted to feel the other man’s arms around
him, while John’s calm, steady voice told him everything would be
okay. But he’d take what he could get. “Webcam, thanks.”
    As he followed Forsyth out of the apartment,
the older man paused by the door and pointed to an intercom. “One
thing, Mr. Jansen. This is a secure facility, which means you won’t
be able to wander about on your own, even on this hall. If you need
anything, press this button to call, and someone will bring it to
you right away.”
    They meant to lock him in. It was a cell,
just a nicer looking one than he’d expected. “Got it.”
    “ Meals will be brought to you.
Vegetarian, correct?”
    “ Right.” He hated to give away any
weakness to this man, but he didn’t really have a choice. “No
garlic.”
    “ Ah, yes. The incident in the
restaurant.” Forsyth looked sympathetic.
    And how the hell did he find out about the
restaurant? John knew how badly the incident embarrassed Caleb, not
to mention it happened on their off time. No way would he have
included it in a report. Sean must have told someone, and of course
it got back to Forsyth.
    Unless Forsyth had a tail on Caleb the whole
time. But fuck, that was paranoid, even for him. Besides, he’d
practically spit pasta pomodoro all over Sean’s date. The guy
probably just wanted to bitch to someone besides John, which of
course meant everyone in SPECTR knew about it ten minutes later. No
reason to get nervous.
    If he repeated it enough times, he might even
believe it.
    * * *
    John sat alone on the ugly orange couch Caleb
insisted on bringing with him when they moved in together. If Sean
thought coming back to the condo would make John feel better, he’d
been dead wrong. Everything, from the hideous couch to the shaman’s
rattle, now quiescent in its glass case, brought back memories of
Caleb and Gray. Eating breakfast together, John learning how to
cook things like tempeh and tofu. Cuddling on the couch, watching a
NASCAR race while John tried to explain the intricacies of pit
strategy. The way Caleb laughed sometimes, almost grudgingly, when
something got past his tough guy façade. The feel of his skin, the
smell of human sweat and something else, of ancient incense and
desert sand kissed by rain.
    His cell phone rang.
    Heart pounding, John snatched it up from the
end table where he’d tossed it. The number was blocked, but he
answered anyway. “Hello?”
    “ John, hey.” Caleb’s voice, and John
sank back on the couch, legs going limp with relief. “Are you at
home? We can talk over webcam.”
    “ Yeah, sure. I’ll boot up the computer
now.”
    “ Talk to you in a minute.”
    John ran up the spiral iron staircase to the
second floor, where his office occupied a