Page 35 of Devil May Lie

Madden could recognize the signs of a person ready to give in. Some people were better at it than others, and though he never would have guessed that Berga was that type of person, he could see it clear as day now.

Berga needed someone else to coax emotions out of him.

He was in luck.

“Invite me inside,” he repeated, voice firm and commanding. He pulled back just enough to meet Berga’s gaze, searching his expression to try and get a read on what the Butcher might be thinking. Trying to see if this fiery thing he felt between them was reciprocated.

Or if he was going to have to figure out a way to stoke the flames himself.

Berga exhaled slowly, as if buying himself some time. Then he reached for the door handle and pulled away from Madden. He paused as soon as his feet hit the ground, then leaned in. “Are you coming?”

Madden grinned.

Chapter 9:

Flix was always telling him to make an effort with people. That manners were important, and everyone should be treated the way Berga treated him and their mutual friend Bay Delmar. Personally, Berga thought that was an epic waste of time.

Which was why it was a bit confusing that he’d caved so easily and allowed the Mad King to follow him all the way up to his apartment on the twenty-seventh floor. He blamed the orgasm. It’d momentarily muddled his brain.

“This is…” Madden glanced around the open floorplan of the front area as soon as they entered, “not at all what I expected.”

The palette was pale blues, whites, and light grays, a sharp contrast to Berga’s usual all black look, sure. The kitchen and dining room areas were to the left, the living room with a large L shaped couch set in front of a floor to ceiling window to the right. The hall was dead center.

“I’ve never really thought much about it,” Berga said. “Flix designed it.”

Madden frowned. “Flix?”

If he hadn’t, Berga would have slept on the floor on a pile of blankets, no problem. But he didn’t bother explaining.

“Don’t touch anything.” He left Madden in the foyer and moved across the tiled floor toward the hall, peeling the ruined shirt off as he went. There was literally no reason for Madden to be here, but also no good reason he could think of to make him leave, so retreating to collect himself was the best course of action.

Berga kept his apartment spotless, mostly because he didn’t spend much time there. He’d selected a floor that wasn’t the highest level, but not the lowest either, to help prevent himself from conducting any sort of experimentation on the premises. His lab at the Bunker and at school served his purposes well enough, and he’d hoped separating work from his home life would help.

It hadn’t, but maybe it would eventually.

His room was the last one on the left, and he let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding as soon as he was safely beneath the threshold. How odd. His reaction to Madden’s presence was…concerning, but more than that, there was the way he’d acted in the car.

And at the Academy.

Berga stripped out of his pants and boxers and tossed them into the hamper, wandering across the thin gray carpet toward his closet, completely naked.

He’d need to schedule a meeting with Bay. It’d been at least a month since the last episode he’d had, but this was the first time in years that he’d lost himself in public because of it. He expected a call from Baikal or one of the others any minute to chide him for attacking Academy cadets, and rightly so. The whole event was a blur, but he doubted he’d been provoked. It had to have been his fault.

Although…Madden had acted rather cavalier about the whole thing. Shouldn’t he have been angry? Those were his classmates on his campus in Retinue territory, after all. He should have punched Berga in the face, not offered him a ride home with a side of epic blow job.

He ran a hand through his hair in mild frustration, only recognizing the emotion after the fact. Berga was currently irritable and confused and he did not like it. Dealing with the aftereffects of the delusion was already bad enough, but at least he had an excuse.

What was the excuse for these feelings revolving around Madden?

“I didn’t know you could look like that.”

At the sound of his voice, Berga spun toward the door, growling when he found Madden standing in the open doorway. Nudity wasn’t anything to him, and it wasn’t like the guy hadn’t already seen all there was to see anyway, so he didn’t bother covering up.

“This.” Madden waved a hand in front of his own face. “You look pensive, Butcher.”

Berga didn’t bother responding, fixing his features into an annoyed glare instead, but that didn’t deter the Mad King.

“Is it because of what happened at the Academy,” he asked, tipping his head, “or is it because of me?”