by
"The first step is the important one - he's not scared of me. He just thinks I'm inefficient."
Rook, Eldritch Guardian, has a three-step plan to find his beacon: dispose of a body in an alley and wait for the right person to offer advice. It worked for Cillian, so it should work for him - until a late-night altercation outside a theatre forces him to rethink everything.
“You’re conflating professional courtesy with personal interest. They’re not the same thing.”
Ethan Parks is just trying to stay safe after surviving an abusive relationship, but he has noticed people disappearing from the theatre district. When a stranger intervenes with a persistent creep, Ethan insists he isn’t helpless, although the man in the buckle-covered leather jacket is intriguing enough to earn his number, strictly for theatre booking information, of course.
"Rook." Cillian's voice cut through the spiral. "Your shadows are shredding the chair upholstery."
Then Ethan’s friend Fiona vanishes after a date, and the question of whether Rook is human becomes less important than finding her. As Ethan, Rook, and the Shadow House search for answers, danger closes in. Someone who knows about guardians believes beacons are the key to controlling them, and are coming for Ethan next.
A Love of Shiny Things can be read as a standalone story, but you’d get more enjoyment and understanding about the secondary characters if you read Cillian and Julian’s story Something Worth Keeping first.
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: Ageless/Immortal
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Fated Mates / Soul Mates, Monster Love
Series Type: Same Universe / Various Characters
Rook’s predator instincts flared hot and immediate. He crossed the street in four strides, dodging a taxi that blared its horn. Up close, the situation clarified into something that made his teeth ache with the need to bite.
The smaller person was male, maybe mid-twenties, wearing black pants and a white shirt with a bow tie - a theater staff uniform. He had sandy brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a medium build. He was also being currently pressed against the wall by a man twice his size in an expensive suit.
“…told you I’m not interested,” the smaller man was saying, voice steady but strained. “Please move.”
“Come on, Ethan. One drink. I waited through your whole shift.” The suit leaned closer, alcohol thick on his breath. “Don’t be a tease.”
“I wasn’t teasing. I was working. Serving drinks is literally my job description.”
“You smiled at me.”
READ MORE“I smiled at everyone. That’s also my job description.”
Rook stopped three feet away, hands in his jacket pockets. “Problem?”
The suit glanced over, irritated. “Private conversation, buddy. Move along.”
“Didn’t sound private. Sounded like harassment.” Rook kept his voice pleasant, but let his human disguise slip just slightly at the edges. Nothing obvious. Just a suggestion of wrongness in his proportions, a hint of too many teeth when he smiled. “He asked you to move.”
Ethan’s eyes darted to Rook, widening slightly. Recognition flickered there - not of Rook specifically, but of danger. The prey-animal instinct said the new arrival was potentially worse than the first threat. He was clearly smart.
The suit puffed up, trying to salvage his dignity. “This is between me and Ethan. We know each other.”
“We don’t.” Ethan pushed against the man’s chest. “You come to the theater. That’s not knowing someone. That’s being a customer.”
“After all the drinks I’ve bought from you?”
“Which I served. As part. Of my job.” Each word came out precisely and clipped. Frustrated. Like he’d explained this concept multiple times, and it still wasn’t penetrating. “You’re conflating professional courtesy with personal interest. They’re not the same thing.”
Oh.
Oh, that was interesting.
Rook’s attention sharpened. Most humans would’ve gone with a soft no, a made-up boyfriend, some socially acceptable excuse. But Ethan was breaking down the logical fallacy like he was teaching a particularly dim undergraduate.
The suit’s face darkened. “You little…”
Rook moved.
One moment, he was standing casually with his hands in his pockets. Next, he had the suit’s wrist locked in a grip that made bones creak.
“Walk away,” Rook suggested quietly. “Right now. While your joints still bend in the correct directions.”
The suit stared at him, drunk enough to be stupid but not so drunk he missed the threat in Rook’s voice. It’s not a threat, buddy, it’s a promise.
He wrenched his hand free and stumbled backward. “Crazy people. Both of you.”
They watched him weave down the sidewalk, muttering. Rook waited until he turned the corner before looking back at Ethan.
Who was staring at Rook with an expression that was definitely not gratitude.
“That was unnecessary,” Ethan said flatly.
Rook blinked. “Sorry?”
“I said it was unnecessary. I had the situation handled.”
COLLAPSE
