“Not all alike. Some of us are into thongs. Others are into boy shorts.” He grinned as I attempted to grab the paper back. “I’m surprised a no-nonsense girl like you doesn’t just go commando.”
“You’ll never find out.”
“Never say never. Once this is over—”
“No.”
Devon turned to Lucen, who watching our conversation with a smirk. “I can see why you like having her around. She’s fun.”
My hands balled into fists for all the good it would do me. No doubt I’d amuse Devon ever more if I took a swing at him.
Calm down, Jess. If he was really interested in tormenting you, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Remember how Lucen was kind enough to remind you of that this morning?
My annoyance with Lucen reasserted itself, but only briefly. Wasn’t much I could do about any of this, so I rubbed my eyes and grudgingly gave in to logic. Devon wasn’t blasting me with his power in the slightest. However threatening I might construe his words, he was only teasing me.
My kingdom for a protective charm.
I held out my hand for the list, and Devon obliged. After I checked it over one last time, I passed it to Lucen.
“Moving in?” Lucen asked. “We’re not going to be able to bring all that.”
“I could be here for a few days. It’s only a couple changes of clothes and some charms.”
“And a laptop.”
“I need that.”
“Your laptop will be gone.” Dezzi had positioned herself once again at the head of the table, and seemed to have been waiting for her opening to speak. “The Gryphons will have already gone through your belongings by now and confiscated anything they believe might be evidence. They most assuredly would have taken your laptop. Possibly your charms.”
I groaned. I hadn’t thought about that, but it made sense.
“We take a risk going to your apartment,” she continued. “Even disguised, the Gryphons will likely have someone watching the place, and they could detect us. It will complicate things considerably if that’s the case. Are you sure this person’s ID is hidden somewhere unlikely to have been found?”
“I’m not positive, but I don’t think they’d have discovered it.”
“Jess told me where it is,” Lucen said. “My guess is that it’s still there.”
Dezzi nodded. “Take no longer than necessary then, and report in to me the moment you are back. Jessica should stay in your apartment where she’ll be safe.”
Right. Because as my conversations with Lucen and Devon today had shown, Shadowtown was exactly the sort of neighborhood that made me feel safe.
I moped around Lucen’s apartment after the crowd dispersed, feeling worse than useless. Feeling vulnerable. Lucen had given me a spare key to his place in case I needed to make a hasty retreat and then return, and Devon had brought me a prepaid cellphone. It wasn’t as though I was trapped, and I supposedly had a satyr army at my back if I needed it, which was hysterical in a frightening sort of way. But nonetheless I was stuck inside doing nothing and incapable of defending myself.
I stared at the key and the phone for a bit, wishing for inspiration.
Time had flown since I’d woken up full of energy and ideas. It was late in the afternoon, early for preds, but every passing minute brought me closer to my doom. And yet here I was pacing around Lucen’s living room, waiting for said doom to arrive. Logically, I knew nothing would be different if I’d gone with Lucen and Devon, but the challenge would have kept my mind occupied.
Sweetpea snored away in his cage as I wandered into the kitchen. A cramped alcove off the dining area contained Lucen’s charm-making supplies, and I examined them, fascinated. He had a veritable chemistry lab set up out here. Glass jars filled with water, imp eggs, fermenting charms, and other unpleasant-looking things for which I had no name sat on a table. I knew the reason some of these containers sat near the window was so they could soak up moonlight or starlight or whatever. But my knowledge didn’t extend much beyond that.
Maybe I should ask Lucen to teach me how to make charms. Assuming I lived through Friday, it would be nice to save some money by becoming more self-sufficient. And besides, it would probably boost Lucen’s ego. He wanted me to visit him more often, right? If he was going to get off on my misery, at least this would allow me to get something useful out of the arrangement.
Speaking of arrangements. I glanced at the clock. There was something useful I could do. The goblin across the street had to be opening for business soon, so I might have an answer waiting for me.
I hurried into the living room and peered out through the curtains. Most of Shadowtown was quiet, but shops that catered to humans opened early. My goblin contact didn’t seem the most human friendly, but there was a chance. Alas, I squinted in the shop’s direction for nothing. From here, it was too dark inside to tell if it was open.
Grabbing the spare key from the kitchen table, I debated for all of a second. Lucen would not like me seeking out the goblin shop owner, or the goblin Dom potentially, without him. And Dezzi wanted me to stay in the apartment. Well, too bad. I’d told them all I didn’t like sitting around waiting, and I wasn’t a satyr. I didn’t have to do what Dezzi said. Anyway, I doubted the goblins would let Lucen tag along.
Assuming Gunthra was willing to talk to me. Assuming I was willing to pay her price.
In other words, here went nothing.
I made it no farther than the bottom of Lucen’s stoop before two satyrs stepped in front of me. The satyrs—one male and one female—were dressed head to toe in black. Under their jackets, they both carried guns and short knives. Bullets to stun the enemy from afar, salamander fire-forged blades to finish the job up close. Devon had explained the combination to me earlier.
“Um, excuse me?”
“Dezzi thought you might leave,” the male said. “She wants us to keep an eye on you.”
“How kind.” I doubted kindness had anything to do with it.
“You’re under our protection.” The female gave me a look of disdain, confirming my suspicion. “An attack on you is an attack on us all. We have to make that clear.”
Peachy. I considered protesting, but what was the point? “I’m just going across the street.”
My satyr bodyguards followed. This was bizarre. I never thought I’d see the day when preds were protecting me.
I tried the handle on the shop door, and the bells jingled. My answers could be so close or so far. Yet did I truly want them? Part of me very clearly did not.
The proprietor was bent over the counter, examining something shiny through his monocle. He didn’t glance up. “If you go to Wyrdd Words within the half hour, Gunthra will speak with you.”
My stomach tied itself in a thousand knots. One step closer to answers, Jess. You should be relieved.
“Be certain you want to know,” the goblin said, obviously reading my discomfort. He looked up at last, comically sinister with the monocle on. “Knowledge is very difficult to unlearn.”
“What I want doesn’t matter. I might need to know.”
The two satyrs were waiting for me on either side of the door as I left. When I started heading away from Lucen’s, they quickly caught up to me.
“Where are you going?” The female stopped in front of me, blocking my path.
“To Wyrdd Words, if you must know.”
“You should go back to Lucen’s.”
I sighed. “Thanks for the tip, but I’m trying to make progress on this whole murderer-catching deal. You have heard about my little issue with the sylphs, right?”
“We’re working on it,” said the male.
“Yeah, well, so am I. So move.”
“Dezzi won’t be happy with this.”
I crossed my arms and tried to step around them. “Not my problem.”
“It’s our problem though.” The female satyr moved with me, once more preventing me from going anywhere. “We have instructions, and we could make you go back.”
>
No doubt. I glanced around the quiet street and took a gamble. Lucen was Dezzi’s third, and even if he wouldn’t like me going to meet Gunthra without him, he’d been encouraging me to get the information from the goblins. I wasn’t sure of the specifics of how satyr hierarchy worked, but my two bodyguards here weren’t part of Dezzi’s council.
“Lucen knows about the meeting with Gunthra.” Sort of. But I figured that was truthful enough that the satyrs wouldn’t detect any deception on my part. “He wants me to do this. She has information we could use.”
The satyrs exchanged glances but didn’t move.
“Look, call him if you want, but I have a deadline.” My arm brushed against the female satyr as I pushed by, sending faint tingles down my body, but the sensation was nowhere near as disarming as it could have been.
I nearly tripped over my own feet with surprise. It could only mean one thing—they really could rein in their power if they tried. It explained why I hadn’t been jumping out of my skin—or clothes—these past two days. If I got out of this alive, I swore I was going to kill Lucen for hiding this secret from me all these years.
But, oh God, why did even thinking about him awaken lust in me? I was getting more worked up now than when I’d touched the female satyr. Damn it. I picked up my pace, letting the exercise burn off my emotions and confusion. I had more important things to worry and wonder about. Like how I was going to handle bargaining with Gunthra, and how much her information was worth to me.
Above, heavy clouds blew in from the west. It looked like we might be in for more of yesterday’s storms. A patch of them rolled over the sun, darkening the street.
I shivered, feeling as though the true darkness of Shadowtown weighed on my soul. Elsewhere in the city, it would be much brighter still, but this place absorbed the darkness like a black hole.
It was a five-minute walk to Wyrdd Words, and the satyrs didn’t talk the entire time. I sensed their presence behind me, though—the coldness of their magic. It must have been a sign of my mood because I hadn’t noticed that aura of theirs in a long time.
A goblin was adjusting a display table near the bookstore door. 101 Ways to Please and Tease Your Addicts: A Guide for Satyrs and Sex Lovers was now prominently displayed next to a political memoir.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Gunthra.” I figured even a bookstore clerk would know what his Dom looked like and could tell me if she were here.
The wrinkles on the goblin’s forehead constricted, and he finished fussing with the books. “Yes, I was told you might be by. They have to wait here.” He jerked a finger at the satyrs.
“We’re supposed to accompany her,” the woman said.
“You did accompany me,” I pointed out as the goblin’s ears flattened. “I can go the rest of the way on my own.”
The male satyr whipped out a phone—probably to let Dezzi know I wasn’t cooperating—as the goblin led me through the store. I thought we were aiming for a secluded back room, but instead we exited out another door. Before I could ask, my guide climbed the steep stairs into an ornate house next door. Guess I was here. The bookstore was merely a shortcut.
Two stone urns sat on either side of the house’s portico, but instead of being filled with flowers, gargoyles were perched on the dirt. With their large ears and spindly arms and legs, they resembled goblins. Possibly they were supposed to.
My escort whacked the brass door knocker twice. Another goblin opened the door and beckoned me into a marble foyer. Bookstore goblin didn’t come in. The door shut.
“Are you armed?” the door-goblin asked. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was dressed in servant’s livery.
“No.” Most unfortunately.
He looked me up and down, and I held my breath. If he thought he was going to pat me down for weapons, we’d have issues. No way were those leathery hands feeling me up. Hell, if I wouldn’t let Lucen touch me, no pred could.
The goblin’s lip twitched. How much of my thoughts could he guess based on my anxiety?
“This way,” he said at last.
The soles of my sneakers squeaked on the waxed marble floor. A gaudy crystal chandelier dangled two stories over my head, and it could have done with being turned on. The whole place, though elegant, was like some goth castle. Black floors, walls done up in black brocade, even a full model of a goblin’s suit of armor in a nook under the winding staircase.
The goblin threw open the double doors at the end of the hall. “Jessica Moore to see you.”
I entered a room only a few shades brighter than the hall. My host—I assumed it was Gunthra—reclined on an old-style fainting couch. She wore a high-necked red dress that matched the house’s ambience perfectly. A silver tea set sat on the table in front of her. She stood and bowed as I approached.
“Miss Moore, have a seat. Care for some tea?” Gunthra didn’t wait for an answer. She clapped her hands, and two new goblins appeared from the shadows.
I sat, stunned into silence, as one brought in a plate of delicious-looking scones, muffins and accessories, while the other poured tea.
“Milk or sugar?”
“No thanks.” Actually, I wasn’t a tea drinker, but I had a feeling I’d better try to be polite if I wanted information.
The servants disappeared, and Gunthra settled back. “I understand you have questions about your gift.”
“Yes, I—”
“You’re wondering who did it and why.”
“Yes, I was told it was a curse by—”
“But you don’t know why you were cursed, or how.”
She took a sip of tea, allowing me the chance to speak. Alas, by this point all I had to say was, “No.”
“Have something to eat, I insist. It’s early. Not for you perhaps, but breakfast for me. Those are real English scones, and that’s homemade jam and butter. My chef spent many years in Britain. I’m sorry we don’t have any clotted cream for you today.”
I wasn’t. Though I had no idea what clotted cream was, it sounded revolting. Clotted cream, clotted blood, clogged arteries… Best to do what the bossy goblin suggested. I took a scone that was giving off the aroma of cinnamon and sugar. The scent reminded me of Lucen.
“Excellent, aren’t they?”
I swallowed. “Very—”
“Now, your gift.” This must have been how Gunthra gained her position as Dom. She talked over everyone until they agreed.
“The other goblin…” Crap. Why had I never asked his name? “He called it a heritage.”
That didn’t seem to surprise Gunthra. Her expression remained the same. “It is a curious thing. I, of course, know all about your unique abilities. You don’t need to describe them. On one hand, the explanation is simple. On the other, I do not understand at all.”
“Simple? Can you be a bit more specific about which hands we’re talking about?”
“Information for information, Miss Moore. Why are you so interested in this now?”
“Because the person behind the addict murders has the same power that I do. I thought whoever did it to me might have done it to him and could lead me to him.”
Gunthra set her tea cup on the china with a clanging that made me jump. “We will not discuss politics.”
“That’s politics?”
“War is always politics, and you’ve aligned yourself with our enemy.”
For the love of dragons. “Fine.” I dumped my scone plate on the table and crossed my arms. “But you asked.”
Gunthra stared at me without blinking for long enough to be creepy. I couldn’t hide that, but I met her stare head-on. “This alleged other person who has your gift. Does he have a satyr’s magic, as well?”
“I don’t—”
“No, I expect you don’t.”
“He exists, and I’ll prove it.”
She waved off my anger with a ring-bedecked hand. “He may well exist. I’m just disappointed that you can’t tell me.”
“Does it make a difference?”
/>
“It might.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
I popped another piece of scone in my mouth. It tasted dry, which might have said more about my emotional state than the scone’s tastiness. “Well, what do you know? Can you tell me anything?”
“Of course. I know what happened to you. The question is—how badly do you want to know?”
Aha. Was she asking me to name a price? I curled my fingers into my hands so they wouldn’t shake.
For all my musing on this topic, I hadn’t actually gone into this meeting prepared. All I was certain of was that I wasn’t trading my soul away for this information. So what then? What was I willing to offer when I wasn’t even sure I wanted the truth?
I wet my lips. Actually, I wasn’t sure that I was unsure. Not at all. Not anymore. My curiosity was growing stronger by the second. Or was it not my curiosity? Was Gunthra feeding my thirst—my greed—for knowledge? I couldn’t detect her influence in my head, but the longer I sat here and the more I thought about it, the more desperate I was to understand what had happened to me. Most importantly, if I understood, could something be done about it? Could the process be reversed and I be made normal, no longer fearing exposure?
I kept my eyes roaming around the room as I debated my next move, mostly so I wouldn’t have to look at Gunthra. As skilled a negotiator as she must be, I feared I’d give something away. Though what difference it would make, who knew?
Her room had plenty to keep me occupied. All the Victorianesque decorations in here, I’d bet, were original. Preds were quasi-immortal, so Gunthra might very well have lived to see the Victorian period.
She also had a thing for butterflies. Several preserved ones lined the top of the mantel. Leave it to a pred to collect dead insects. Once again, I was thankful that Lucen’s apartment looked normal. Sweetpea aside.
“Miss Moore?”
“I don’t have much money.” And I’d have less when this ordeal was over. I hadn’t given a thought to my job all morning. Cringing, I realized I was already four hours late for my shift. But there was likely no point in calling the Tallyho. The Gryphons had probably questioned everyone there by now. Fuck.
Wicked Misery (Miss Misery) Page 15
