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There is something a little peculiar about Eli Tate. Oh, he appears normal enough on the surface, but he’s spent years trying to remember what happened to him - and why he doesn’t age. Then there’s the way he can shift shape. He doesn’t know what kind of being he really is or if there are any others like him. What he does know he’s been in the same town for thirty years and he needs to move on.
Returning to the Big Apple, Eli takes up residence in his old apartment. An evening walk turns deadly when he’s attacked by pure evil. He barely escapes with his life - thanks to a stranger named Rio who is a shape shifter like him.
Rio says he knows Eli and that he’s been searching for him for many years. Rio confesses they were once lovers. Eli has no memory of such a time, and now he’s out of options. To remember his past, and destroy the creature pursuing them, Eli has no choice but to trust Rio - and maybe fall in love with him again.
* * *
It was a good thing Eli wasn’t vain. He had the height people noticed. His dark hair showed no sign of graying, and his whiskey-brown eyes reflected his intelligence. He’d looked like this as far back as his memory stretched. It could be a lot worse.
Being clean would be a lot better. He stepped into the master bath and opened the taps to fill the tub. A good hot soak was in order, and after that, some food.
The agency had stocked the fridge and pantry when they opened and readied the apartment. Going back out tonight posed too great a risk and Eli wasn’t fool enough to take it.
He sank down in the tub to submerge his aching shoulders. Flying was strenuous work. With Vihal hunting him he needed to condition his muscles. Sooner or later Vihal would come back to New York.
The hot water surrounded his body with soothing heat. A wave of exhaustion rolled through him. He closed his eyes.
Eli jerked awake. The water was cold and he wasn’t alone. He rolled to his feet in a shower of droplets, intent on getting to the Sig Saur he’d placed in the nightstand drawer. He skidded to a stop in the doorway, heart pounding at the sight of the man in his bedroom.
Rio calmly sat in the wing chair beside the window. He smiled. “Eli. Coming here was a bit predictable, wasn’t it?”
He had to keep his wits about him. Rio had helped him, but for what reason? “Apparently. Do you mind if I get dressed while we chat?”
Rio’s interested gaze swept him from head to toe and settled on his groin, where it stopped. “Maybe I do.”