Kiss the Ring

KISS THE RING

by Brandy Moss

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

Copyright © 2015 Brandy Moss

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

FOR MY HUSBAND

I LOVE YOU

Thank You Wendy Zuern

(Editor Extraordinaire)

Chapter One

Troy Hart leaned back in his chair and studied the boy across from him. He hoped he projected an air of confidence, but really he had no idea what he was dealing with here. It was making him a bit twitchy and he didn’t like this feeling at all.

Ryan Jones had been brought into the office because his teachers and his parents were concerned about his inability to sit still and focus, and because of the ridiculously fantastic stories he told. His file said he was a troublemaker at school, had a tendency to lie about almost everything, and spent hours alone in his room where he wouldn’t speak to anyone. According to the adults in his life, Ryan was both hyperactive and anti-social; two traits that wouldn’t normally go together.

The boy across from him, calmly shuffling a paperweight from hand to hand, projected none of those things. In fact, for a twelve-year-old, he had an uncanny understanding of why he was there and for the last half hour had explained to Troy in a completely tranquil manor that he knew he was different. Had known all his life that he was different and even his parents were not like him. In fact, he confided that he didn’t believe his parents were really his parents at all.

When prodded, Ryan couldn’t explain all the accidents during the school year and at home that prompted his parents to stick him in counseling over his summer vacation. He was quite convincing in his bewilderment as he recounted an incident at school with a volleyball. He claimed to have no idea how the ball left the cart, flew across the gym and hit his classmate in the head. However, he wasn’t the slightest bit upset that it happened because, Mark Randolph is a bully.

In his eight months working with social services, Troy had seen a great many kids with emotional issues. Being able to see their auras and gauge their emotions had been a helpful addition to his other training. He’d been lied to, given the silent treatment, and bared witness to enough tantrums to put him off the idea of ever having kids himself.

This though… this he hadn’t seen before. After a month and a half of seeing this kid once a week, suddenly Ryan Jones reeked of magic. His aura was that of a witch. Sort of. It had a similar blending of colors, but it didn’t quite have that same earthy connection like the other witches he knew. He watched as the kid started to get distracted. Ryan had managed to be still and focused on their conversation for longer than was normal for a twelve-year-old boy and longer than any of their previous sessions. No. There was definitely no A.D.D. going on here.

Troy looked down to make a note in Ryan’s file and just that quick, the air took on a familiar sort of charge that made the hair on Troy’s arm stand at attention. Not a moment later, the candy bowl on the table by the door tipped and spilled over the arm of the couch. The kid’s eyes widened in awe as he picked up the butterscotch candy that rolled to a stop against his thigh. The entire scene made Troy wonder if Ryan wasn’t the cause of all the accidents that followed him around after all. Unwittingly, of course.

Do you like butterscotch, Ryan?

He looked at Troy and nodded before returning his eyes to the fallen candy. Very carefully, he scooped it all up and put it back into the bowl.

Were you thinking just then that you’d like to have one?

Um… yeah? His voice lifted up in question and his eyes darted sideways, unsure if he’d done something wrong or, more likely, admitted to something he shouldn’t have. With careful hands, he set the bowl back on the table, both hands making a little stay motion like he was gesturing to an animal or a small child.

Troy leaned back and brought his ankle up to rest on the opposite knee. Stuff like that happens a lot?

Ryan dragged his eyes away from the bowl and gave Troy a worried glance before returning his attention to the bowl. He looked a bit wary, like he expected it to jump into his lap at any moment.

I have friends who can do that on purpose, Troy threw out there to see how he’d react.

Ryan frantically shook his head in the negative. That’s not possible. It… it was an accident. He jumped to his feet, eyes darting around the room, looking for what, Troy could only guess, before abruptly sitting down on his hands. You can’t tell my parents that. You can’t. They already think I’m trouble.

Troy leaned forward, elbows on his knees. You’re not troubled, Ryan. And I’m not going to give you drugs like the school wants because you don’t have A.D.D. What you need is to learn to control what you have inside of you.

He fidgeted in his seat and tugged one hand from beneath his leg. He looked at it for a second as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it before scratching at his nose and shoving it beneath his thigh again. What’s inside of me? he whispered, eyes wide.

Magic, Ryan. You have magic inside of you and I know some people who can help.

The boy looked skeptical, but he couldn’t hide the flare in his aura that told Troy he was paying close attention. His eyes scrunched up and his lips pursed in concentration, then Troy’s pen flew out of his hand and Ryan managed to catch it.

Holy crap. The words were quiet and full of awe. Suddenly, he grinned at Troy. I knew it! I knew I was different. Just as quickly, his smile faded and his eyes clouded over. Why am I different?

We can figure that out together, okay? I have to talk to a couple of people, but I’m sure we can help you to learn how to use that magic without hurting anyone, alright?

Yeah, sure.

It took another twenty minutes to finish up. He wrangled a promise from Ryan not to actively try anything until he could get some instruction, but Troy didn’t put much stock in it. He was a curious, almost teenage boy who’d just discovered he could do something incredibly cool. Of course he was going to give it a try. He’d explained to Ryan’s inexplicably non-magical parents that while their son didn’t have A.D.D. and wouldn’t need a prescription, he would like to continue regular sessions to give him an outlet for his other issues. Halfway out the door, Ryan changed direction and hurried back inside. He threw his arms around Troy’s middle in a fierce hug and whispered, Thank you, before leaving with his parents.

An hour after they left, Troy had finally managed to finish putting all his notes for the day into the computer and turned his cell phone back on as he gathered up his things to leave. Before he even made it out to his car, his phone let out a loud moo and he grinned. No matter how many times he changed the ring tone, Jason always changed it back to the damn cow. Shaking his head in amused aggravation, he said goodbye to the security guard in the lobby and checked his text messages.

Drinks w/the gang @ 7:30. You on the way home yet?

He unlocked his car, threw his bag onto the passenger seat and tapped out a quick reply to his boyfriend. Leaving now. Dinner?

The reply came quickly. Already done.

Troy chuckled and switched on the radio. Already done to Jason meant he’d ordered out and was just waiting on the delivery guy. Between the two of them, it’s a wonder they ever managed to eat at all.

Honey, I’m home!

Troy chuckled and dropped his keys in the bowl on the table in the entryway. Announcing his presence had yet to get old. He’d moved in with Jason only a few months ago so it was still new enough to feel a bit giddy at doing it. When no response was forthcoming, Troy went in search of the other man of the house. He followed his nose to the kitchen where he found Jason, barefoot and shirtless, pajama pants slung low over his hips. He stood at the counter, dark hair standing up at odd angles, frowning into a brown paper bag. His headphones had obviously drowned out any noise Troy had made upon arriving.

Troy leaned against the doorframe and took a moment to enjoy the scene in front of him. He watched, mouth turned up in an indulgent smile, the tinny beat of music coming from Jason’s headphones the only sound. The dark haired man dropped the bag onto the counter with a loud sigh and turned his attention back to the white containers of what smelled like Chinese.

He opened a container while wiggling his hips to the music in his ears. Troy found himself a bit disappointed that the elastic waistband of the well-worn pajama bottoms held fast and didn’t dip any further. Jason reached into the container and pulled out a few lo mien noodles. He tipped his head back and dangled them over his open mouth for a second. He looked a bit like a fish toying with the worm on a fisherman’s hook. He dropped the noodle into his mouth and Troy felt a little something stir inside him when the other man’s pink tongue came out to lick his lips. He wondered if he’d ever get used to this. Nobody ever got to see Jason like this. Nobody but him. He felt special because of it.

At that moment, Jason spun on his heels in a half circle, arms half way in the air with jazz hands, and caught Troy watching him. His surprise manifested in about a half second of widened eyes before he grinned. The only sign of any embarrassment at being caught half naked and dancing in the kitchen was the very slight flush of his cheeks that crept down his neck and over his bare chest. Troy pushed away from the wall with a laugh.

Must be some really good noodles, he teased.

Yeah, well, they forgot the soy sauce. Jason pouted and made grabby hands at Troy until Troy moved near enough for Jason’s hands to close around his shoulders and pull him in. He tugged one speaker out of his ear and put it into Troy’s. The loud, flashy rhythm of some dance song Troy didn’t recognize blared in his left ear and he twined his hands together behind Jason’s neck just in time to be spun in circles around the kitchen. Troy yanked Jason down for a kiss. It proved a sufficient distraction to stop the spinning before Troy got dizzy.

You’re sure in a good mood for someone who looks like they just rolled out of bed. Troy ran his fingers through Jason’s already messy hair. It only served to smooth out one side while the other remained ridiculously mussed. Did you even get out of bed at all today?

Jason grabbed Troy’s wrist before he had the chance to try and flatten the other half of his hair. Of course I did. He brought Troy’s fingers to his lips and nipped at his knuckles. I had to pee at some point.

Troy rolled his eyes and poked Jason in the side causing him to jump and giggle. A snippy comment about his resemblance to the Pillsbury Dough Boy was on the tip of Troy’s tongue, but he managed to keep it in.

Yeah, well, I guess you’re allowed to take a day off.

Jason nodded. Damn right I am. He reached behind Troy to grab a food container and shoved the beef and broccoli into Troy’s hands before taking his shoulders and turning him toward the table. Sit. Eat. We have to be out of here in two hours.

Um…did I miss something? Why are you so eager to get out of here? He stood there for a moment until Jason gave him the do-what-I-tell-you face and Troy pulled out the chair and sat down at the table while Jason retrieved the rest of the food. He knew better than to argue with him at the moment. Did someone get engaged? Did I forget a birthday or something?

He spooned a bit of fried rice onto the plates Jason handed him and followed it with the beef and broccoli and lo mien while Jason dug in the refrigerator for soda. They had a working theory that if they ate off real plates, then it didn’t really count as take-out. Neither of their mothers agreed with that though, and frequently sent over food in freezable containers. Apparently thawing didn’t fit into the schedule tonight, hence the Chinese take-out.

Nope. No occasions. I’ve just been cooped up all day and while it felt good to be a lazy bum after three days in New York, I’m ready to go out and have some fun.

Troy wouldn’t have minded spending three days in New York but as much as he had wanted to go with Jason, he knew he’d have spent most of those three days alone. Jason’s frequent trips to New York to meet with his publishers and editors were a whirlwind marathon of meetings and paperwork that he tried to shove all into one visit so that he wouldn’t have to stay any longer than necessary. Jason hated New York.

~*~

Ryan stood at the balcony atop the stairs looking down over his living room. The car ride home had been terrible. His parents had argued the entire time about what Mr. Hart had told them. They’d never argued like that in front of him before, but he’d pretended to be sleeping, so maybe they didn’t realize he could hear what they were saying.

That’s how it had been lately. More and more often, he’d walk into a room and they’d stop talking. He hated the fake smiles that followed and the forced cheerfulness of his mom once his dad inevitably left the room. Seriously, did they think they were fooling him? He was twelve, not an idiot. They were talking about him and they were worried. He hated that. He didn’t want to worry them.

Up until these accidents started happening everything had been cool. Now they looked at him funny and sometimes his dad wouldn’t look at him at all. Ryan didn’t know why and it made him want to cry. Those were the times when he locked himself in his room. If his presence caused so much distress, then it was better for everyone if he just took himself off.

This was one of those times. His dad had protested that Mr. Hart was too young to know what he was doing and they should take Ryan to a doctor who would just give them the prescription. Mom refused and Ryan totally agreed with her, thankful that she had stood up for him. He wasn’t crazy and didn’t have A.D.D. Mr. Hart said so and for Ryan that was the end of it.

Mr. Hart was like no grown up he’d ever met. He didn’t treat Ryan like a little kid. He could talk to Mr. Hart like a friend, maybe even an older brother. Plus, he had friends like Ryan. Friends who had magic and they were going to help him. No way would he go see some new doctor. He’d end up like a zombie on Ritalin. A couple kids at school took that stuff and sure, they could sit quietly in their desks, but they were total space cadets otherwise. Secretly, he thought the teachers would prefer them all to be drugged so as not to cause any problems ever. Just a classroom full of little zombie children.

Ryan gripped the banister tighter and his knuckles cracked loudly. None of that stuff seemed important at the moment though. Terrified, he stood rooted to the spot while he watched what could not be real going on below him. He’d been in his room, trying to make one of his Pokémon cards float around the room. He’d promised Mr. Hart not to, but really it was something so small. How could he not try it out now that he knew he could actually do it on purpose? The card was hovering a couple inches above the carpet when he heard the commotion - raised voices, a loud crash and what sounded like his mother screaming. The sound was quickly cut off though and now he saw why.

Two men - well, maybe not men because their skin seemed to be glowing a pale bluish color and they had unusually pointy ears - stood in front of his parents who were sitting on the couch unable to move anything but their eyes. A strange greenish light surrounded each of them like something out of a sci-fi movie.

Where’s the brat? The taller one demanded. His voice seemed to bounce off the walls. The effect was incredibly creepy. We know you have him.

Yeah, you’re hiding him, added the shorter one who wore, of all things, a purple t-shirt with a cartoon rabbit. Hand him over.

Ryan crouched down into a ball so he’d be less visible, but couldn’t tear his eyes away. He pressed his face between the posts and held his breath, watching. His dad opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was like last summer when they’d gone camping and he’d gotten laryngitis. Ryan was oddly relieved. His father had caught sight of him and sadly, he wasn’t sure his dad wouldn’t have given him up. The fact that the doubt even existed made his chest hurt. But his dad only shook his head and clearly mouthed the words, He’s not here. Ryan felt a bit guilty for doubting him and was suddenly angry at these… well, these things… for doing whatever it was they were doing to his parents.

The taller one turned to Ryan’s mother. You’ll tell me the truth, or you’ll watch your husband die. Which is it? Who do you love more? Your husband or your son? He’s not actually your son. You have figured out that much by now, right?

Hell, even he’d figured out that much. Ryan mocked the guy silently. Anybody could see he looked nothing like either of his parents. And with all that had been happening lately, he was sure all those abruptly ended conversations were always concerning him. His theory was that he was adopted and they just hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him yet. Didn’t matter to him. They were still his parents.

The dude waved a finger and his father suddenly started gasping for air. Ryan had to bite his lip hard enough to bleed to keep from yelling out as his father’s face slowly turned red. He looked like the people do on those cop shows on television when they were strangled, except nobody was touching him. Something invisible was squeezing his throat closed and Ryan could do nothing about it.

Stop! Stop please! His mother had a voice again and while Ryan could tell she was struggling with all her might, she couldn’t move to help his dad either.

Hand over the brat, purple shirt demanded.

Just then Ryan’s dad slumped forward, unconscious, and Ryan’s anger spiked. He wished with all his might that he could just flatten these guys. Suddenly, the heavy oak bookcase next to the television flew out from the wall and smashed into the two unsuspecting guys. It knocked them flat on their asses. Whatever hold they had over his dad was momentarily broken, and the older man was able to drag in some air. Ryan was relieved, but the bookshelf didn’t stop them for long and they easily pushed it aside.

Ryan realized pretty quickly by the horrified look in his mother’s eyes when they met his, that while he may have saved his father’s life, he’d also announced his presence as if he’d led a marching band through the living room. The intruders turned toward him and he only had a second to register their coal black eyes and his mother yelling at him to run before he took off down the hall as fast as he could. Suddenly they were upstairs – appearing out of nowhere. Ryan ducked into his room and slammed the door shut, setting the lock just in time.

His heart beat so fast he was having trouble breathing as he ran to the window and looked out. It was too far down. He couldn’t go out that way. There was no ledge, no tree, not even a trellis to climb down. Crap! The doorknob rattled and he dropped to the floor and rolled beneath his bed. Fleetingly he wondered why they didn’t just pop into the room like they did in the hallway. They didn’t seem to be able to though and he thanked God for small favors. A loud crack sounded, like someone had thrown themselves into the door, and Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. They would get in. The door wouldn’t hold forever and they would get in and they would grab him and, oh God. What the hell did they want with him anyway? They obviously had magic, these guys. Maybe they wanted to take his. Oh shit, maybe he wasn’t supposed to have it and they were going to kill him and take it back.

Just then the door burst open with such force it slammed into the dresser, knocking down some of his video game cases and he squeezed his eyes even tighter. The sound of two pairs of feet shuffling into the room stole the breath from his lungs as he tried very hard not to make a noise. The feet went toward the window he’d left open in hopes that they’d think he’d escaped that way.

No way the kid jumped from here.

Ryan didn’t know which one said it, but it didn’t really matter anymore. His palms were sweaty and his heartbeat was so loud in his ears surely they could hear it as well. Safe. He repeated it like a mantra inside his head. Safe. Safe. Safe. He needed to get somewhere safe. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, the one place he felt completely safe popped into vivid color in his mind’s eye. The hardwood floor that dug painfully into his elbows disappeared and was replaced by something soft and smelling of leather.

His eyes popped open in sudden shock and he jumped to his feet. Slowly turning in a circle – the threadbare carpet beneath his feet, the metal desk in the corner, the little table and candy bowl – it was all there. Oh. My. God. Ryan wandered over to the desk and picked up the picture next to the phone. A young man with thick black hair, a blinding smile and giant sunglasses looked back at him.

He was in Mr. Hart’s office. Holy crap, he… he jumped from one place to another with just a thought. He ran both hands frantically through his hair, his breath coming faster and faster. His legs suddenly turned to jelly and he had to sit down quickly in the desk chair and put his head between his knees like they did in the movies. Surprisingly, it worked. When the dizziness subsided everything else rushed back in and fear gripped him once again. Not knowing if his pursuers could follow, he quickly ducked down beneath the desk and pulled his knees to his chest, dragging the chair closer to hide him.

Ryan didn’t know how long he stayed beneath the desk, trembling and crying and trying his best to be quiet. The minutes crawled by and after what seemed like forever he couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to get out of there. He needed help. With a quick burst of bravery, he pushed the chair away and crawled out from his hiding spot. Not knowing exactly what he was hoping to find, he started pulling open drawers. Files, paperclips, colored paper, Doritos. Not even the chips appealed to him right now and they were his favorite. Instead, he turned his attention to the desktop. Random sticky notes with useless information, pencil cup, stapler. His eyes landed on the blinking red light on the phone. He guessed that meant that Mr. Hart had a message. Leaning closer, he eyed the buttons on the phone. There were several speed dial numbers, one labeled home.

Without a second thought, he grabbed the receiver off the hook and pushed the button. He jumped at a noise from outside the door and dove back under the desk, receiver clutched in both trembling hands.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and licked his suddenly dry lips. Mr. Hart please, please answer the phone.

Hello?

The voice was sleepy and Ryan knew immediately that it was not Mr. Hart. I n...need to sp…speak to Mr. H…Hart, he whispered urgently.

Who is this? Are you okay? The voice was kind and seemed concerned but it wasn’t who Ryan wanted to talk to.

Pl…please, mister. Is he there? I really, really need to speak to him. He had trouble getting the words out in his anxiety and he suddenly felt like he was back in second grade trying get rid of the stutter.

Yeah, yeah, just a sec. There’s some rustling and the voice sounded far away, like he’d covered the mouthpiece with his hand or something. Troy. Hey, babe, wake up.

Mmm, came the grumpy reply. Who is it?

I don’t know. Sounds like a kid.

More rustling and then the line cleared.

Hello?

With the sound of Mr. Hart’s voice, Ryan felt himself relax just a smidge.

Mr. Hart, you gotta help me. His voice still trembled, but at least he didn’t stutter this time. The noise that came from outside hadn’t been repeated but Ryan glanced to the closed door and stayed put just in case. Please, Mr. Hart. Come get me.

Chapter Two

Troy quietly shut the guest room door and headed down stairs. Now that Ryan was finally sleeping, Troy could put some energy into figuring out what was going on. The problem was, he didn’t seem to have any energy left. A long day at work, followed by an evening hanging out and drinking with his friends, and now being dragged out of bed by a hysterical child had finally taken a toll. The bottom of the stairs seemed to be as far as his exhausted body was willing to get him so he gave in and sat down when his legs refused to carry him any further.

Head in his hands, he closed his weary eyes only to have the boy’s words echo through him. I think they killed my parents. The problem was, Ryan didn’t know who, or more likely what, they were. The kid had begged Troy not to call the cops because he feared they wouldn’t believe him and maybe they’d even say he was crazy. Both were definite possibilities.

A light touch to his shoulder brought his head up and he managed to focus on Jason who was crouched in front of him looking worried.

You ok, babe?

Troy heaved a weary sigh but nodded anyway. Yeah, it’s just that my brain is working overtime right now and nothing is making sense. I have no idea what the hell happened tonight, or why.

Did Ryan tell you anything more?

Nothing useful. You heard the gist of it in the car. He just kept shaking and crying. Whatever happened tonight, he believes it’s his fault. He says those guys wanted him and his parents had tried to protect him. Troy reached out and tugged on Jason’s arm until he moved to sit on the step as well. He rested his head on Jason’s shoulder and twined their arms together. Jason’s proximity was always calming, but even more so when Troy could touch. He didn’t care if it was because Jason was a healer or if it was the comfort of being close to someone who knew him so well. It was probably a bit of both, but at the moment it didn’t matter. The result was the same.

He seems pretty positive that his parents are dead. If his voice was a bit shaky, it was only to be expected. If Ryan’s parents were dead, there was a host of problems to consider and not just of the supernatural variety. Strong fingers carded through Troy’s hair and he felt himself relax just a bit.

You think there’s anything more we should do tonight? Somebody we should call? It’s close to 4:00am.

Troy closed his eyes and concentrated on the timber of Jason’s voice. The vibration it caused in Troy’s ear where they were connected was distracting enough to let him push everything away for just a moment. The moment wasn’t long enough and he took a deep breath before responding.

I don’t know. He was pretty adamant that these guys weren’t normal. He says they used magic and had black eyes. Fully black, like in a movie. If that’s true then he’s right and the police wouldn’t be much help.

And what about his own magic? Jumping into your office like that seems pretty significant.

Troy pulled his head up, eyes locking on the table in the foyer, but not really seeing it. A light squeeze of Jason’s fingers around his and a subtle tug on his arm, snapped Troy out of his daze.

He doesn’t remember how he did it. He only remembers wishing he were somewhere safe. I couldn’t push any further. He was too freaked out for any more questions. Jason made a soothing little humming noise, but didn’t comment. It occurred to Troy that his boyfriend was lacking a bit of shock here. How come you’re so calm, man? You don’t find all this a bit strange and frustrating?

Oh, I find it plenty frustrating, honey. Strange? Not so much.

Troy’s head tilted to the side while he gave Jason his best what-the-hell face. A humorless laugh escaped the older man and he reached a hand to push the hair off Troy’s forehead before planting a kiss there.

I know you don’t like the idea of working with the Guardians, but they did say that stuff like this would be thrown our way.

Troy groaned and dropped his head back to Jason’s shoulder. The Guardians. He really didn’t like those guys. Not only had they dragged he and Jason out of bed half-dressed to some other realm that they were conveniently made to forget upon their return; but they’d done it the morning after some pretty crazy shit went down and even sent his father to fetch them. Yeah, having your dad step out of a ball of light directly into your bedroom when you’re naked and not in bed alone…not so fun.

These Guardians were pompous and had been the sole reason Troy had thought his father dead until this past year only to find out that not only had he been alive all these years, but he