CENOTAPH

NOT A DAY FOR THAT

VEER

After that disastrous first meeting with his old team, Veer had been trying to hail a cab for the last fifteen minutes with no success. West Cyprus was always busy and the perfect divider between the ten blocks that made up Aurora's business district: five 24/7 money-making blocks on either side. And right in the middle, between 9th and 10th South, the Clepsydra Project Complex. Maybe if he walked just two blocks north to Circular Park Four, getting a cab would be easier. Upon arrival at the hotel, Veer would arrange a daily driver with the concierge. He wasn't against walking; he walked almost everywhere while he was back in Ambarsar, but it was better when you knew the vehicle was readily available for you in case you needed it.

As Veer waited for the light to change to cross Cyprus West and get to the park, the soft purr of a bike settled beside him. He turned to look at it. He would recognize that bike and its rumble without effort anywhere in the world.

Quinn.

Taking off the helmet and shaking his glorious hair, his former partner unsmilingly and almost frowning, said, "Hop on."

Veer's first instinct was to reach for the bike. He knew Quinn had an extra helmet in the box, but a different kind of caution stopped him. "Planning on murdering me?"

"Not today." Quinn opened the box and offered the helmet to Veer. "You have been flailing your arms like an idiot long enough. I'm just being a decent partner."

"Are you stalking me, Fondant?"

"Hell no."

Veer still resisted. "These are not riding pants." He pointed down with both hands.

Arching an eyebrow, Quinn zeroed in on Veer's crotch.

Damn it.

"What is that, leather and silk blend?" Quinn's eyes still caressed Veer's package. The way his head was tilted a little sideways was seriously distracting— like a puppy deciding whether to pounce to get the toy or not.

"Er..." Veer was feeling all kinds of eloquent.

Quinn rolled his eyes and shoved the helmet against Veer's chest. "Just put this shit on and get moving."

Veer adjusted the helmet on his head and straddled the bike. "Do you already know in what hotel I'm staying?"

With a snort for answer, the bike roared to life. They easily zigzagged through traffic.

The voice of his mentor, Sutlej Singh, emerged from the turmoil in Veer's mind.

The only way to conquer temptation is to face it until it doesn't entice you anymore.

And that was why Veer had accepted the reinstatement when it was offered. Unfortunately, his guru hadn't told him what to do with Temptation when one held him around the waist, swaying amid fast-moving cars. For some unethical design of Fate, they hadn't hit a single red light; thus, Veer was never able to take his hands off Quinn's body. Petrified, he resisted the urge to lean onto that wide back, covered in a royal blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

All expectations of surviving the day were dashed as Quinn turned onto Capitol West on his way to one of the bridges over the San Joaquin River connecting the city's east and west sides. His hotel was in Spain West, a long way from where they headed to, because Veer knew where they were going— straight to the only place worse than a minefield. Quinn's apartment. In Tarot Towers.

Instead of turning left to go to Tower Eight (where Quinn lived), they turned right and circled around Circular Park Three. Soon the Pegasus Fountain was visible. Aurora's five circular parks were designed to resemble the Yin and Yang symbol from an aerial view, with the fountains located where the dot of the opposite aspect should fall. They pulled into a multi-level parking space in front of the park. On the upper level, Quinn activated a scanner and a gated parking spot opened; they entered, and the engine fell silent.

"So this is where you leave my body to rot." Veer didn't know what made him say something like that. He knew how quickly Quinn's temper could flare.

Quinn was silent as he put both helmets back in the box. Once they got out of the safe space and closed it off, Quinn turned to Veer. "If you want me to kill you, just say it with all its letters."

"Not today."

"Good."

"May I ask why you leave Morena here?" Veer asked, confused. A man's love for his bike was made clear when he gave it a pet name meaning "dark-skinned" because of its black chrome.

"You Sikhs are not superstitious and you don't believe in rituals and stuff, but there are things out there, man, and when you live in a place like Tarot Towers, you have to be on your toes. Six months ago, I found some white powder on Morena and didn't give it much thought, but then all kinds of crazy things started happening with her." Unashamed, Quinn started walking with his head held high. "I called one of my aunts to do a cleansing and decided to keep my girl away from the building and those fuckers."

Granted, they worked by traveling back in time; of course, there were things out there that logic alone couldn't define. What men now considered science had been called evil and supernatural only a couple of hundred years before. However, Veer would have worked on a different solution. "Why don't you move if you don't feel safe?"

"That was my mother's apartment. I wouldn't leave it for all the money in the world."

"I forgot about that. Sorry," Veer offered softly.

Quinn nodded with a grunt. They crossed Circular Park Three in silence. The sun was at its highest but it wasn't hot, and a soft balmy breeze surrounded them. A beautiful spring day that should have distracted all the shadows and murky thoughts roaming furtively inside Veer. Quinn flipped a coin into the Pegasus Fountain as they passed it.

The real name of Tarot Towers was The Fanning Complex. The ten towers had been built resembling the curve of a fan. Ninety percent of all the spiritual workers of Aurora resided there, making it an infamous place in the city (and even the country). Veer had only been here once, shortly before he quitted Clepsydra Project. He'd helped Quinn move in after his mother died. His partner hadn't been particularly close to the gypsy lady, but her death had snapped something inside him. Devastated couldn't begin to describe Quinn's state at the time.

They had almost trespassed then, stepping into a forbidden threshold.

Veer shuddered.

And it had nothing to do with how cold it was inside Tower Eight. They entered one of the elevators, turning to face the door; before it could close, a little old lady came out of nowhere and boarded it. She was one of those you could still see on the streets of Barcelona, Istanbul, or Sicily (old-school veil and everything). She stared at Veer all the way to the twentieth floor. He and Quinn stepped out of the elevator, and he couldn't resist turning to look at her. She gave him a rather creepy "bye-bye" gesture with a couple of crooked fingers and mouthed something Veer seriously hoped was "cute."

They stopped in front of Quinn's clover-green door. "Spooked enough?" Quinn asked as he thumbed the lock's recognition pad. His tone had an obnoxiously playful ring to it.

"Asshole."

Quinn waggled his eyebrows. "Not today."

****