All Secrets Untold - Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Hunter Morgan

Chase stood in his mother's office, taking in the dark stain on the floor. He stepped around it slowly, trying not to look too hard at the dried, partially cleaned blood or the shattered glass that still hadn't been swept up. His attacker had obviously fired more than once, probably after he'd shot him in the head. Chase frowned, turning towards the window fully. He was more than sure the first bullet had been a clean shot straight through, whereas a second shot to his head might've been lodged somewhere in his skull. Hence the bullet that had fallen onto the ground in that alley. His office was a real mess.

"Mr. Blackwood, you alright?"

He turned at the sound of his secretary's voice. She offered him a nervous smile. Eric and he had agreed on one thing before they left the apartment; Chase needed to appear injured, so they'd given him an injury. He reached up to touch the gaze taped to his forehead over his left eye and temple. The official story was the shooter had very nearly hit him, but thankfully hadn't. Eric had told him he better tell people it was 'just a graze' and not to mention any of what had happened the night before. Especially the whole 'shot in the head' thing. He offered the secretary a small smile.

"I'm alright, Felicity," he told her, letting his hand drop. "It's just a graze."

"Oh, thank god," she said and hesitated in the doorway. "Shall I just check your schedule for today?"

He nodded and she ducked back out of the room. Eric walked in a second later, making him smile. His boyfriend gestured back towards the doorway, raising an eyebrow. Chase turned back to the window, ignoring the look Eric gave him.

"Was that just your secretary rushing off, muttering about a schedule?" his boyfriend asked, coming to a stop beside him. Chase had hesitated to go beyond the bloodstain, unsure. Eric was definitely amused, if the tone he used was anything to go by.

"Yup," he said, crouching to take a closer look at the dark stain. He tilted his head, taking a deep breath. He'd found his senses were a lot stronger than they should be. It was definitely his blood, and a lot of it. "This is a lot of blood. Why wasn't this cleaned better?"

"It's still, technically, a crime scene, Chase," Eric said, bringing his attention to the blue and white tape across the window and the doorway. The tape across the doorway had already been broken by the time he'd reached it. "They thought it was a murder scene."

"I suppose we should let them know I'm not dead, then?" Chase suggested, straightening up. He glance towards Eric before stepping carefully around the stain and approaching his desk. His mother's diary wasn't on it. "Where's the diary?"

"What?" He waited for Eric to join him, gesturing to his mother's empty office desk. Chase supposed he should probably start calling it his. "Oh, the book. I don't know."

"That would be typical," he muttered, moving to inspect his office chair. He listened to Eric as his boyfriend wandered back towards the door, calling for his secretary. She'd come scurrying back. He knew her well enough to know that. He turned back at the sound of the secretary speaking to Eric. "Where is it?"

"Oh!" she said, startled. Eric had obviously already explained things to her. "I removed it before the police came. It seemed too important to leave laying about for anyone to pick up."

Chase was impressed. He went to join them in the doorway. "So, where did you put it, Felicity?"

She seemed to consider his question for a moment, tapping her fingertips together. He waited. Felicity heaved a breath and said all in a rush; "I put it in the safe in the basement."

"Can you go get it for me?" he asked, giving her a flirtatious smile. He saw Eric frown from the corner of his eyes, but it was worth it to see the girl flush and scamper off down the hall. He turned away, pausing at the look Eric gave him. "What?"

"Did you just flirt with her?" his boyfriend asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Chase shrugged and returned to the desk, gingerly touching the office chair. "Chase..."

"It's not like I'm fucking her, Eric," he said, running his hands over the leather. "I'm fucking you, remember?"

"That's some crude language for my boyfriend to use," Eric shot back, sounding amused. "Besides, aren't I the one fucking you?"

"That's debatable."

Silence descended and Chase went back to the desk, deftly avoiding the stain. He brushed off the chair and sat down, checking over his desk to make sure nothing was amiss. As far as he could tell, it was all there. Chase pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. Ten-thirty in the morning. They had half an hour. Chase logged into the laptop on the desk and brought up the security feed. Together, he and Eric watched the video from the night he'd been shot. Thankfully, the angle was awkward so someone watching couldn't quite make out if the bullet had actually hit him or just grazed him. It had, however, caught his shooter on camera, but only from behind. Chase didn't recognise him.

"Sir." He glanced up to find Felicity in the doorway. She was clutching the diary to her chest with both hands. "I recovered the book. Also, your eleven o'clock is early. Shall I let them up?"

He nodded and Felicity handed the diary to Eric before backing out of the room. Chase watched his boyfriend walk across the room, holding up the small notebook in one hand for him to see. He smiled, accepting the little book off his boyfriend as the other man reached him. "This is what I was reading," he said, opening it to the first diary entry. He handed it back to Eric. "Read the date."

Eric read in silence for a moment and then his eyes widened. "That can't be right," he muttered, lowering the book to meet Chase's eyes. "That was two hundred years ago."

"Exactly," Chase said, holding out a hand. Eric gave it back to him. "But it's the truth."

Before Eric could reply, there was a knock on the door. "Your eleven o'clock is here, sir."

"Thank you, Felicity," he called, shifting to put the diary away in the top drawer. He didn't need anyone else seeing it right now. "Send him in."

The moment Hunter Morgan walked into the room, Chase knew he was different. He stiffened in his chair, eyes locked on the young man who had stopped short. Hunter was staring back at him. Chase shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the boy's presence.

"Fucking perfect," he muttered, striding closer. He seemed reluctant but he went on ahead anyway. "More bloodsuckers."

Chase frowned, glancing up towards Eric. His boyfriend shrugged. As far as Chase could tell, the other man was referring to Eric and his lawyer status. "Pardon?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. Hunter slashed a hand through the air. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Hunter said, coming to a stop on the other side of the desk and crossing his arms over his chest. "No problem." He glanced around at the office and raised an eyebrow. Chase knew the moment he saw the bloodstain and the shattered window. "Bad day?"

"You could say that," Chase said, gesturing to the computer open in front of him. He pulled the security feed back up and span the computer around. "My problem." Hunter raised an eyebrow and took a step closer, peering down at the laptop's screen. "Go on. Watch it."

Chase watched as he hit play and watched the scenario play out. It was over in less than five minutes. As soon as it stopped, Hunter straightened up. He didn't say anything, just stood there and eyed the screen. There was a thoughtful tilt to his head. Chase exchanged glances with Eric. Hunter's silence was bothering him.

"Well?" he prompted after several minutes of silence. Hunter's head jerked up, and the other man pinned him with a dark look. Chase shifted uncomfortably again.

"The man who shot you isn't human," Hunter announced, reaching down to play the video again. While watching, he outlined why he thought that would be so. Chase listened intently. "He's definitely preternatural. The gun is old, definitely something I can trace. Do you have it?" Hunter looked up at him, and Chase nodded. They had the gun. It was safely tucked away in a secure location back at Eric's place. They hadn't given it to the police yet. "If I'm correct, it's a flintlock. Probably from somewhere around the mid-1800s."

Chase sighed. "I figured as much, considering I found it next to me when I work up last night." At Hunter's sharp look, he figured he had to explain. "I suspect my would-be murderer thought I was dead. He dumped me in a dumpster across town. I woke up to find myself covered in trash and blood, with the gun beside my head." He gave the other man a wry smile. "You'd be right to think I was very confused."

Hunter's gaze narrowed. "There's something you're not telling me."

He flinched, leaning back in the chair. Beside him, he felt Eric stiffen. Hunter's gaze flickered towards his boyfriend and back, before he dropped it to look at the screen again.

"You don't have to tell me, Mr. Blackwood," he said, closing the laptop and straightening up.

Chase exchanged a look with his boyfriend, and Eric nodded. He sighed and shifted the laptop back around, trying the symbol on it absently. "The bullet didn't graze me," Chase said, glancing up at Hunter from beneath his eyelashes. Hunter Morgan went very still. He reached up to finger the gaze tapped to his head, then pulled it off. "It went through my head, and yet....I remain uninjured."

Hunter muttered something that sounded a lot like 'for fuck's sake' and jerked backwards, away from the desk. "Well," he said after a moment. Chase could see the guy putting his shields back up--and his composure. "That's certainly something I can help you with."