Slaying the Beast

Chapter 38

Castle is finding it difficult to keep his eyes on the crowd at the Golden Walnuts, rather than on Kate, but he can feel several pairs of eyes on him. He's both flattered and a little uncomfortable but tries to keep his mind on the task at hand. Kate is invited to join a table of women, and Castle takes a seat at the bar and orders a microbrew. He would prefer scotch, but he needs to stay alert.

A man slides onto the seat beside Castle, introduces himself as Mike, and asks if Castle would like to share a hummus platter, his treat. Castle's more partial to seven-layer dip, but he's eaten plenty of hummus at parties and didn't hate it. Striking up a conversation with Mike will be as good a way to gather information as any.

The raw vegetables provided for dipping are both clean and crisp, and the pita triangles are fresh. That's points for the kitchen staff if nothing else. "I haven't seen anyone like you in here for a while," Mike comments.

"What do you mean like me?" Castle inquires.

"Custom-made shirt and jacket, a hairstyle that emphasizes your eyes. My guess is that you're actually what some of the patrons around here are trying to be - someone who's made it."

Castle picks up a celery stick. "I do all right. Sounds like you see a lot of climbers."

"Would be climbers, anyway. There was this one who hasn't been here in a while. You would think he was the Queen of England. I think he works for the city. Was always putting his Giraldi up on the bar where everyone could see it. I got a look inside once when he was pulling out business cards: no papers, just his hair stuff. I think he's doing his act somewhere else right now. Anyway, I'm a paralegal, but I'm saving up to go to law school. What do you do?"

"I'm a consultant."

"That's usually what people say when they're between jobs, but you must be a good one. Any chance you could consult with me later, at my place?"

Castle inclines his head toward the table where Kate is sitting. "I'd love to, but I came with my sister. She crashed her Harley last month, and sometimes her head gets a little messed up. I have to make sure she gets home all right."

"Yeah, you always have to take care of family. I look in on my mother every day. Maybe I'll see you again."

Castle flashes his brightest smile. "Anything is possible."

"Get anything from the ladies?" Castle asks as he and Kate walk to the parking lot where she left her unit.

"An invitation to a bike rally, but nothing about Spaulding Madison. From the self-satisfied look on your face, I assume you were more successful."

"Madison did come here, but he hasn't been around for a while. I got the impression he wasn't too popular. But I suspect we might have more luck at the Rainbow Door. I hope they have good hot wings. I've had more than enough hummus."

The sheen of sweat on Castle's brow as he leans on the bar testifies to the level of spice in the savory chicken he's chosen to accompany his Virgin Mary. The club is both more expensive and more fashionable than the Golden Walnuts, and the patrons are better fixed. He's spotted a few that he believes might share either his hair stylist or his tailor. If Spaulding Madison is trying to build his image, this is a place he might come. Kate touches Castle on the shoulder. "I glimpsed Madison at a table in the back. We can't let him spot us. We should take a booth up front where we can watch the door, but he won't be able to see us."

Castle picks up his fiery basket and his glass. "Great! I can take notes on the customers. It will make excellent background for a scene I'm working on for my book."

"A gay bar, Castle?"

"I was thinking Raley might stumble into it by accident and Ochoa will have to pull him out. Obviously still a work in progress."

Castle is on his second basket of wings and his third Virgin Mary when Kate hisses for his attention. "Bradley Stuart!"

"And it looks like he's heading to the back where Spaulding Madison is," Castle notes. "He is, and if that kiss is anything to go by, they're not strangers."

Castle settles into bed next to Kate. "I don't think I want to look at tomato juice or another appetizer for a month. At least now, I don't have to pretend I'm not gazing at you. You looked incredible in your leathers, but there is no substitute for pure Beckett."

"You look pretty good yourself, Castle - a little flushed maybe. Too much hot sauce?"

Castle brushes the hair back from her face. "The heat I'm feeling now has nothing to do with condiments; it's all about you."

Kate lets her fingers do the walking. "Um, I could warm my hands around that."

"I think the member you are referring to would rather find a place for himself that is already warm."

Kate presses her lips to his. "Then I think you have some work to do to open the door."

He nibbles his way down the smooth skin of her neck. "A chore I would never dream of shirking."

"Good, because you have a lot to do on the way down."

Castle circles one pink tip with his tongue. "Like this?"

"It's a good start."

"And this?" he asks, laving the succulent bud's twin."

Kate runs her hands down his thighs. "Making progress."

His mouth finds her navel. "Here?"

"Close, but no cigar, Babe."

"Actually, I'm more interested in the cigar box." She jerks as he fingers the hardening center of her arousal. "Ah, the enchanted lock." Kate moans beneath his touch as he continues to massage her most sensitive spot. "Now what was that key again? Open rice? Open wheat? I know, open sesame."

Kate's legs part as she reaches for him. He slides almost too smoothly into her welcoming sheath. Her calves find his shoulders as she invites him to dive deeper.

He needs no urging as he plunges within and retreats, the sweat from their bodies forming a steamy mist around them as he thrusts. Only Kate's head and the upper reaches of her torso remain on the bed as she clings to Castle, tightening around him. The waves are upon her before she's aware that they've begun, and she can feel Castle's response deep inside her. She can hear his cry of release as the air is sucked from her lungs. Slowly, her legs slide from his body as he pulls back, only to enfold her once again in his embrace. He draws a sheet over them, the only covering needed by bodies still heated by the exertions of love. They rest, skin to skin, the night passing as if but a moment of time. The orange rays filtering through the window are a reminder if a sweet one, of a new day and the dangling threads of a case needing to be firmly tied up and neatly clipped.