by TJ Nichols
He left a message for his boss. Ardel was going to be thrilled. The sooner this election was over the better. Even if the current mayor was reelected, at least they’d know who they were dealing with.
THE COPS had arrested twelve satyrs and the human who’d been on Bliss at the den. That they’d arrested the human was progress, though no doubt he’d be released without charge. It wasn’t illegal for humans to use, only illegal for satyrs to sell to them. While Edra was able to get most of the satyrs out, Leonaris, as the owner of the den, was stuck behind bars.
All Edra could do was apologize and fume. This wasn’t what Kells had promised. Bloody humans, couldn’t trust them as far as a lesser dragon could flick one.
Ardel was going to be furious when he realized that damage control had flown off like a harpy with a prize. Edra was at the SID when the doors opened. He’d had three hours sleep and was feeling ready to tear limbs off. Cold shimmered over his skin, silver blossoming and fading with every heartbeat.
He needed to get it under control. He didn’t like humans realizing that he could vanish. If they knew that, they might start thinking he was spying on them or sneaking into banks. He curled his fingers slowly into fists and then released them. From what he’d heard from the satyrs, Kells hadn’t been part of the raid, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t arranged it.
Asshole.
Edra leaned on the counter. “I need to speak to Inspector Kells.”
“I don’t think he’s in yet,” the woman behind the counter said.
“Then call him and get him in.” Edra smiled, and it was all teeth. The door behind him opened, and Jordan Kells jerked to a halt.
They glared at each other for a few seconds, but the human blinked first and glanced away. “I just heard what happened.” Kells indicated the meeting room.
Edra wanted to believe that was the truth, but humans couldn’t be trusted. Their word meant nothing, but he had to liaise, so he followed the cop into the meeting room where they’d sat before.
“It was all over the radio—the shock jocks were having a field day with the lack of morals displayed by the satyrs.”
“Lack of human morals. Sex is nothing to be ashamed of, no matter what your religions claim.” Edra tilted his head. “Have your religious leaders consulted with the gods and fixed their errors?”
The various leaders had flat-out denied that the gods had returned. Instead they doubled down on what they preached. Edra had no idea why humans were so fixated on who did what and with whom. As long as everybody walked away happy, what was the problem?
Pink swept across Kells’s cheeks, and he glanced at his notebook. The page was blank, but he was ready to write something. “This issue isn’t about sex or religion. It’s about drugs.”
“Blissss,” Edra hissed, “is legal for satyrs.”
“Illegal for them to sell to humans. They knew that.”
“So did the human.” Edra held Kells’s gaze. This was the man the satyrs called the Elf. He was a cop, and yet he went to the den for Bliss. “That doesn’t seem to stop them, though, does it? Perhaps he was there to set up the satyrs. Perhaps he called the cops?” That was something none of the anti-mytho groups had done yet, but he wouldn’t put it past them.
“Or perhaps he just likes the buzz,” Kells said softly.
Edra leaned back, sure they were no longer talking about the human who’d been in the cell next to Leonaris. “The human won’t be charged, will he?”
“There’s nothing we can charge him with unless his pockets were full of Bliss and he was intending to sell to other humans.”
“Satyrs don’t have dealers. It’s in the club and always under supervision.”
“If only every drug lord cared so much.” There was only a hint of bitterness in his words. “Leonaris will be charged. The club will be under greater scrutiny. It’s bad timing.”
Edra didn’t believe in casual coincidence when it came to humans. “Or perfect timing if one wanted to stir up the anti-integration mob.”
“Possibly.” Kells nodded and then drew in a breath. “I want to work with you, not against you.”
Edra bit back his retort. He needed to make this work, or he’d end up back in Ardel’s office trying to explain why he didn’t play nicely with the human cop. “I hope that’s the truth. If it’s not….”
Kells leaned forward. “Don’t push and don’t threaten, Tendric.”
Edra smiled. There was something about Kells that rubbed his scales the right way. He held his ground and claimed to be honest. Tendric wanted to believe that was possible. “Or what?”
Neither of them moved. Tendric flicked his tongue over his lip, and Kells’s gaze dropped for just a moment.
There was a scent about the cop that was appealing. It took a moment for him to work out what it was.
Lust.
Tendric shoved his chair back. “The den stays open.”
“Yes. They can’t force the closure, but they can insist on routine inspections. A second infraction….”
“I get it. Is there anything I can do for Leonaris?”
“For the moment, no. The city will appoint a lawyer.”
“One familiar with mythos, or one who doesn’t give a shit?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?”
“I’ll find out who arranged the raid, and then give you a call.” He scribbled in his notebook and then tore out a piece of paper and handed it to Edra. “My number. I know you care about your people, but you aren’t a cop and you can’t take action on your own.”
Sure he could, as long as he wasn’t caught.
This time he’d been too late to cover anything up. Next time… hopefully he’d get there before the police.
ANOTHER ANTI-INTEGRATION rally was outside the Mythological Services building, waving their signs and telling the mythos to go back to being imaginary. Edra held his hot-chocolate cup a little too tightly as he made his way around the crowd. He’d love to shift and really give them a fright… but he wouldn’t.
Those idiots didn’t understand that the mythos had never been imaginary. They’d simply stopped visiting the human world centuries before. Now they all had to share. Maybe they should have continued to visit. But not even the Strega, at full power, could unravel that amount of time.
He jogged up the front steps, anxious to get away from the wash of hate directed at anyone who dared to enter. He was sure the regular protesters had worked out that he wasn’t human, given that he was here every day. They just didn’t know what he was. He smirked. Most of them would never work it out. They wanted to hate, not learn.
“Tendric!”
Edra stopped on the top step. He was close to getting away from the roiling hate and anger, but he turned with a forced smile straining his lips. He was the liaison officer, the public face. He needed to look as though he gave a selkie shit but not let them rile him up to the point where he vanished.
He sipped his hot chocolate and hoped the heat would chase away the troubling chill that threatened to overtake him.
A man with brown hair pushed toward him and thrust a phone at him. “Can I get a statement on the raid at the drug den?”
“Drug den?” Edra knew exactly what the man meant, but just because he had to face the reporter didn’t mean he had to play nicely.
“The satyr drug den,” the man insisted.
“And who are you?” Edra took another drink of the thick chocolate, as though he had all the time in the world to waste.
“Carlin Howard. I’m covering mytho issues for several news sites. What kind of creature are you?”
The crowd was listening now, and Carlin was at the foot of the stairs. He knew Carlin by reputation only and shouldn’t have been surprised that he was there, but he was shocked that any newspaper or site would buy anything from him. Carlin had been caught making up stories, fabricating quotes. He had caused a good deal of embarrassment for one of the papers. Edra couldn’t remember which on
e, but no one in the mytho community had been saddened by his firing.
“I’m not a creature, but I’d be happy to give a statement on the satyr den.”
Carlin stared up at him. “And? Is it true they have been luring humans in?”
“No.” Edra knew enough about the media to be very careful. Carlin wouldn’t use a full quote. He’d only use the part that would cause the most damage. Edra really didn’t get paid enough for this. He was a low-level government employee—they couldn’t pay him any less. Being a cop like Kells would be a pay raise several times over. Kells…. Edra should get him to clean this mob up. Didn’t they need permits or something? Maybe they were blocking a thoroughfare?
He spoke clearly. “A human was found in a routine raid.” That would at least make it sound as though the cops were being heavy-handed.
“And he was lured there.”
“No. Humans like drugs, and Bliss is a novelty. Perhaps he just wanted a really, really good orgasm.” He couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from turning up just a little too much. There were some things that satyrs did better than humans, and providing orgasms, drug-fueled or otherwise, was one of them. Fighting was the other.
Someone started yelling that satyrs were perverts.
“You don’t seem troubled. Is it true the vice den will be shut down?”
“I can’t speculate what will happen with the satyr den. Given that you still have human nightclubs brimming with human drugs….” Edra shrugged and sipped his cooling chocolate.
Carlin glanced at the crowd. “Any thoughts on the upcoming election?”
Plenty. “No.”
He turned and walked through the doors. The armed guards were there, staring out the glass door and doing nothing. They would only act if the protesters tried to enter. Even the protesters weren’t that stupid—not a second time, anyway.
Edra didn’t bother to stop at his desk. He went straight to Ardel’s office. The day was going to be abysmal. If he had enough money, or a loved one to sacrifice, he might’ve been tempted to ask the Strega to send him back in time to the den before the raid, and he’d make sure no human got through the door.
Kells would have to find some other way to slake his lust.
Chapter 6
JORDAN FED Sinner, and Sinner sniffed and walked off. Jordan didn’t blame her. Cat food didn’t smell appealing at the best of times, and the scent of tuna was overly strong. He tossed the empty can in the trash and washed his hands, knowing that Sinner would eventually eat.
He should stay and enjoy being at home. There were TV shows to catch up on, and sooner rather than later he’d be flat-out at work and late every night. Good thing the cat couldn’t bitch at him. Sinner would glower from the end of the bed, accusing him of abandonment. For a rescued kitten, Sinner had turned into a very ungrateful adult who seemed to think Jordan existed only to open cans and doors and warm the bed.
He hesitated. If he went out, it wouldn’t be to a den. He couldn’t, not after the raid. His fingers curled. He wanted Bliss. The way Tendric had looked at him today, Jordan was sure he knew. He knew, and the way Tendric’s lips curved and his tongue flicked out did something to Jordan that was far worse than Bliss.
While Jordan was many things, he was not attracted to mythos.
That was one step too far into weird. If he was attracted to Tendric, he’d be proving the A-Is right—that mythos did seduce humans. But Tendric hadn’t even made a pass. It was all in Jordan’s head. He blew out a breath. What he needed was human contact. He’d relied too much on Bliss and had forgotten what it was like to be touched.
Jordan scooped up his keys. His jeans and shirt wouldn’t get him into any fancy bar, but he’d be able to get in somewhere. He didn’t want a dive, not when there were better options where he was guaranteed to hook up.
“Screw it.”
He put his keys in his pocket and changed shirts. He usually changed his underwear into something a little more delicate when he went out. He brushed his fingers over the black lace and satin in his drawer, and he hesitated. A random hookup would not appreciate finding that under Jordan’s jeans, so he slammed the drawer a little too hard and snagged his jacket off the hook by the door. Spring was still trying to push away the dregs of winter. Another week or two and the weather would be warmer. Before he knew it, the city would be shrouded in summer fog.
His first summer there was an eerie experience, so different from the baking heat of Texas. His second summer had been weirder, with ogres and werewolves and the world trying to right itself after the rules had suddenly changed. But as everything he thought he knew was proven a lie, he had only become more determined. Everyone deserved justice, even if they had fur and fangs.
Three blocks away there was a bar run by werewolves. There was always live music, but there’d be too many mythos and not enough humans, and he needed something… someone.
He caught the train down to Fifth, where there’d be plenty of bars to choose from and plenty of people looking to pick up. If he went to a gay bar, he could find what he wanted in under ten minutes, so he forced himself to walk in the opposite direction from the den, even though what he really wanted was Bliss.
If climax was all he needed, a few minutes with some porn would have been enough. But he’d tried that last night. The need wasn’t so easily fed.
Was Bliss actually addictive if a human kept using?
Or was it that everything was more intense, so everything else was a pale imitation?
The bar was busy—people in suits, students in jeans. A football game was on one TV, music videos on another. He ordered a beer and then turned to people-watch, hoping someone would catch his eye and that they’d make the first move. Making the first move still put him on edge, even in a place like this. But while there were plenty of attractive men, no one stood out as a possibility.
What exactly was he looking for? It was one night, an hour at most, ten minutes, more likely.
The memory of Bliss flooding his veins and the shuddering sensation of drowning in lust was a siren song he had to ignore. He didn’t need a drug to get laid. Bliss wasn’t even sex. It was a high—hijacking of his body.
He ordered a second beer, not sure why he bothered to come out. He could’ve drunk beer at home for half the price.
A dark-haired man smiled at him and held his gaze for that moment too long. Jordan had noticed him in his group of friends. He smiled back as though keen. He’d come out looking for someone, and maybe this guy could be it. Jordan took a drink of his beer. He wouldn’t buy a third.
He remembered why he hated picking up. He was going to have to speak to Mason. At least then all he’d have to do was turn up at the designated date, no maybes or questions, just the awkwardness of getting to know the other person—though he wasn’t sure he could be bothered with that either. He didn’t have the time or the energy to put into a relationship.
The man left his friends and strolled over. He was shorter than Jordan expected—he’d probably fit beneath his chin—and his eyes were brown, not blue. He’d been hoping for a blue-eyed hookup, though he didn’t want to examine his reasons too closely.
But the man had a nice mouth, and he looked Jordan up and down as though appraising him. “Waiting for someone or looking for someone?”
It was so forward Jordan nearly dropped his beer. “Umm… just looking for a good night out.”
The man smiled. It was a nice smile, the kind that Jordan usually could fall for, but his heartbeat didn’t quicken.
“Dance?” The man was already moving as he reached for Jordan’s hand.
He could pull away, but if the man was looking, Jordan wanted to be found. “Badly.”
“Great.”
The guy took his hand, and Jordan let himself be led to the area around the end of the bar that was the dance floor and where the music was louder. Jordan finished his beer during the first song and put it on the bar. He could escape into the cool night and call it a lost cause, but he
didn’t. He locked his gaze on the man and returned to the dance floor, glad someone else was leading, because his footsteps were too rusty. The man pulled him close, leaving no doubt that he thought Jordan was a sure thing.
Was he?
That was what he’d come out for—to prove that he could still connect with people, that he didn’t need Bliss to have fun.
He put his hands on the man’s hips and tried harder to be in the moment. The guy grinned and leaned in for a kiss. He tasted like bourbon and cola—sweet.
Jordan hadn’t done this in years. He closed his eyes and let the dance become something dirtier—that type of dancing anyone could do. Lust started to rise with a tremble in his blood that swept through him. It wasn’t the same as the drowning tide Bliss gave him, but nothing would be.
It didn’t need to be the same to be good, and this was far safer than satyr drugs.
“Did you want to go somewhere?” The words slipped off Jordan’s tongue between kisses.
He didn’t really want this man in his place, but he was hard and needed to prove that he could still be with a person, that he wasn’t an addict who was only capable of enjoying a high while the rest of his life fell apart.
“No, I’m here with friends.” His hand slid up Jordan’s inner thigh. “But I reckon there’s a stall we could use.”
Jordan wasn’t so desperate that he wanted to get off in a restroom. He wasn’t twenty.
But the man slid his hand higher, to cup Jordan’s balls. He licked his lips. “I think you’d taste pretty fine.”
Jordan swallowed. It was too easy to imagine the man’s lips around his dick. It was an offer that should be too tempting to even consider turning down, and yet refusal was almost on his lips. He forced it away. He needed to do this.
“What do you want?” Jordan’s words were huskier than they should’ve been, but there were things he wouldn’t do with a hookup.
