“Donna, you’re not fooling me. You’re completely exhausted. Go get some sleep. Desmond and Louise can handle the Discordant tonight.”
“I’m fine,” I informed him, shrugging off the hand he put on my shoulder.
“You know I feel that lie, right?”
“Okay, I’m not fine,” I admitted. Sometimes being friends with supernatural beings sucked. “But going home isn’t going to make anything better. I’d rather stomp pixies, if you don’t mind.”
He stepped back without saying anything for a moment, but I could tell that he was having a massive internal struggle over whether or not to voice his concerns.
“Oh come on, Seth,” I said and rolled my eyes. “You’re the one who has to get up and go to work in the morning, so go. I’ll be fine and if I’m not, you can yell at me later.”
“All right,” he said at last with a smile that at least held genuine concern. “But Donna, seriously, whatever it is, it isn’t worth getting that upset over. Not when you’ve got plenty of people to talk to.”
“I know,” I said and waited until he’d crossed the street and headed back toward the house the agents shared. Seth was just as bad of a liar as he accused me of being. I knew that as an Observer, he knew exactly what it was that was frustrating me, but he was either too polite, too embarrassed, or both to say anything. It was likely for the best. I’d made the mistake of bringing up my concerns a couple weeks back and nearly gave the guy an aneurysm.
By the time the sun started to come up, I was exhausted. There was no way in hell anyone or anything was going to stop me from getting the rest I deserved. Betty had already left for the bakery and I could hear Louise getting ready to leave, so I would soon have the house to myself. I kicked off my boots and fell into bed. Of course, despite being dead on my feet, I still ended up with a visitor.
* * *
“Can’t stay away, can you?” Donna asked dryly, though all the resolve she’d had to stay impersonal was fast slipping away as he slid closer.
“Do you want me to stay away?” he asked with a playful glint in his eye.
“Of course not,” said Donna, nearly missing the playful glint because she wasn’t looking at his eyes. “But I’d like to know why you’re giving me some seriously mixed signals.”
“Whatever do you mean, love?”
Love?
Donna’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never used a pet name before. Typically, whenever she heard someone using pet names, she gagged, but she found (much to her personal embarrassment) she was rather okay with it in this instance.
“Well, you’re naked,” she said, stating the obvious.
“We’re not given a wardrobe budget,” he explained with a wink. “The boss seems to think that it is unnecessary in this line of work.”
“And what line of work is that?” Donna asked.
He let out a hearty chuckle as if he found the question silly.
“Siring our heirs, of course.”
“Right,” Donna said with a deep sigh of frustration. “Which you’re not even trying to do.”
“Well of course I am!” he boasted with no small amount of indignation. “Why, I’ve already impregnated three virgins this evening!”
“Excuse me? Did you just say… you… What the what?”
Donna pushed herself into a sitting position and moved as far away from the naked man as the bed would allow.
“What’s the matter? I thought women liked men with a steady job?”
“Okay, that’s just downright wrong. If you’ve already had sex with three women tonight-”
“Five.”
“What?”
“Five women. I’ve had sex with five virgins this evening. I only managed to impregnate three of them. The boss isn’t going to like those numbers, but I’m afraid I was distracted.”
Donna felt her heart sink down into her toes before turning into lead.
“So, why are you even here?”
“I’m trying to get to know you better.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you fascinate me, Donna. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.” He looked up at her with a dazzling smile that put toothpaste commercials to shame. “I’m smitten, if you must know.”
“You’re smitten?”
He nodded.
“With me?”
He nodded again.
“Yet you freely admit to having sex with everyone but me.”
“Not everyone, just virgins.”
“If that was meant to make me feel better, you failed.”
“Madonna Rose,” he said, sitting up so that he could cup her cheek in his hand. “Why, you’re jealous!”
“I am not,” she said, jerking away from his touch. “I just don’t get it.”
“Impregnating virgins is my job. I care no more for them than you do the patrons of your bar. You though. You are special. I choose to spend my time with you, even though you have rejected me once.”
“I what?”
“You denied me an heir.”
“You mean I had sex in order to stop you from knocking me up? Yeah, of course I did.”
He frowned. Despite being completely creeped out, Donna’s breath hitched and she fought the urge to lean in and nip at the full lower lip that thrust out slightly in a pout.
“But in doing so, you built a fortress that I am powerless to penetrate.”
“That’s not fair,” Donna growled. “You haven’t even tried to penetrate anything.”
“I can’t,” he said again, somehow managing to deftly slip out of the way as she pounced. “Not here at least,” he added with a sigh of longing.
“Okay, wait a minute. I don’t think I like where this is going.”
“If only there was a way to give me form…”
* * *
I woke up abruptly with my internal alarms going off and a gross sheen of sweat peppering my face in the most unattractive way. So… Bogie had freaking nailed it! I rolled out of bed and stalked to the shower feeling angry, used, and more than a little embarrassed. It didn’t matter that I once again hadn’t gotten a full rest. There was no way I was going to try to fall asleep again until I could figure out a way to strengthen my defenses.
I broke the curse once before, dammit. I could do it again.
Chapter 2
Revelations
I was surprised to see that Desmond was still up when I came down to have breakfast before work. Usually, he would already have gone to sleep, but I could tell, not just from the waves of worry he wasn’t bothering to hide, that he had waited up for a reason. Unfortunately, I had an idea of what that reason was.
“I thought you were going to talk to Donna last night?”
“I did,” I said as I swept the fridge with tired eyes. I made a mental note to stop at the grocery store on the way home from work. Jem went through gallons of milk as if they were going out of style. “I suggested she get some rest and she basically told me to butt out. Why? Did something happen?”
“No, nothing happened, but she was a bit… Overzealous would be one way of putting it. I don’t care what she says, I know this is linked to what she is and I know it has something to do with that damned fissure under the mill and the appearance of her sire.”
“I see.”
I bit my tongue. Desmond’s observations were spot on, but he wasn’t seeing the whole picture. For that matter, I wasn’t entirely sure what the whole picture was, but I’d been able to put together enough clues based on previous conversations to know that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I was also fairly sure that it was too early and my coffee cup was too empty for such dizzying logic.
“Bogie says she hasn’t been getting much sleep and she’s been relying on glamour to hide this fact. I am sorry Seth, but I can’t let this go. I’ve never before heard of an incubus having contact with their Nyx and we all know Donna’s case is extremely unusual, but there is nothing I can do. When I tried to talk to her, she dismissed me out of hand. I wa
s hoping perhaps you might have better luck.”
“I, uh… I’ll see what I can do, Desmond, but considering the nature of the issue, I may not be the best person to give anyone advice. You know,” I said, swallowing uncomfortably. “Considering my own relationship experience hasn’t exactly been stellar.”
And by that, of course, I meant that the only woman I’d ever had any relationship with happened to be a power-hungry succubus who was only interested in my soul.
“I just meant that you’ve known her longer and she might trust you more,” he said with something of a smirk. Even though he was poking fun at me, I noted the odd look of concern he tried to mask when I mentioned Amara, which was frustrating to say the least. Eventually, I hoped that he would come to trust that despite being a martyr soul, I was just as capable of solving problems without sacrificing myself as he was.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, grabbing up my coat and keys.
Typically, my workday was a good distraction from all of the emotional bombardment that I dealt with every evening in my role as an Observer. Sure, the unemployment office could at times be a hotbed of emotional turmoil, but it was normal, human emotional turmoil that I could handle. However, as soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I knew it was going to be one of ‘those’ days.
“Jocelyn?”
The front desk receptionist wasn’t yet lost, but the waves of unbridled anger rolling off of her weren’t that far off. Though she could occasionally be scatterbrained, Jocelyn was typically pleasant and truly instrumental in calming down those who were (understandably) outraged when their benefits were screwed up. The anger was new and it put me on alert.
“Mornin’ Seth,” she said with a tight smile and an uncharacteristically frosty edge.
“Is everything okay?” I thought the question was reasonably innocent, but by the way the frost evaporated into red-hot rage, I had to wonder.
“Why? Are you planning on saving the day if it isn’t? Would I owe you then?”
“Okay, what is going on?” I asked, completely thrown off by the barb.
“Sorry,” she said. Her tone was clipped and her jaw clenched as if barely restraining herself. “I’m just sick of men at the moment.”
If it wasn’t for the chaotic energy coming off of her, I might have dismissed the anger as hormonally charged. Of course, I would never have said that out loud. Having three close female friends with the ability to throw hexes is enough to make even the most ignorant of men know better. Still, I’d worked with Jocelyn for a number of years and though she could be firm when the situation called for it, she never lost her cool.
“Well, I certainly don’t want to add to that,” I said with just a touch of influence, hoping to calm her just a little. “I’ll be in my office.”
I sent a text to both Jem and Nai asking them to be on alert. I may not have been able to find out exactly what was wrong with Jocelyn, but I had a good idea. In fact, as I left reception and headed back into the maze of offices, I was hit with another wave of unbalanced energy that seemed to be coming from the break room and went to take a peek.
“If she didn’t want me to say anything, she shouldn’t dress like that.”
“Dude, don’t even bother. All women want any more is rich men.”
“They just want assholes. Nice guys like us don’t even have a chance.”
I wish I could say I was shocked. A small knot of my male coworkers stood in the corner of the breakroom spouting the kind of dangerously misogynistic nonsense that one might typically find in the deepest and darkest corners of the internet. This group was well known to the HR department for their less than progressive attitudes, but today they were appalling. Despite the waves of chaotic energy that augmented the situation, I knew better than to think this was just the Discordant influence speaking and I’d had enough of it.
I’d have dragged every single one of them down to HR for a write up, but just as my coffee finished brewing, there was a low rumble and the ground began shaking with yet another earthquake. I grabbed my cup and headed back to my office. I sent a text off to Desmond asking if he would check the seal at the mill and then sent an email off to human resources. Impending Discordant invasion or not, I wasn’t going to let Jocelyn’s harassment or what I overheard go unnoticed.
Although the situation was disturbing, I wasn’t entirely surprised. Blackbird was vulnerable. Over the last week, the weather had taken a turn for the worse and it had been raining nonstop for days on end. The daylight hours were getting shorter. Already the sky was getting dark before five and we still had a week before Daylight Savings ended. The high that everyone had been riding with the announcement of the opening of Big Royal Burger had been all but buried under Blackbird’s collective and severe case of seasonal affective disorder.
Although, thinking about the restaurant gave me an idea. There may not have been much that I could do, but there was something.
“Mort Speaking.”
“Hi Mort, it’s Seth. Just calling to get a rough idea of when you think the Big Royal will be opening its doors”
“I coulda had the place open last week, but you know as well as I do what would happen if I even tried doing things the Morty way. As it stands, we’re looking at maybe by the end of November.”
I cursed. Of course, we didn’t want Mort cutting corners and we certainly didn’t want him to use Discordant influence to cut corners, seeing as that would be counter-intuitive, but at the same time, we were racing against the clock. I was about to tell him I’d call back when an idea hit me.
“Look, Mort, didn’t you say Bogie owes you a favor or two?”
“Or three or twenty,” he grumbled before catching my drift. “Oh! I see. Des can’t do nothing to Hubert these days, can he?”
“It might be in everyone’s best interest if nothing of the matter is mentioned to Desmond, but if there’s any way to get this place open by Halloween, I’d sleep a little easier.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I hung up the phone feeling just a little bit underhanded. I knew that neither Bogie nor Desmond were going to be happy with me for the suggestion I made, but I rationalized that they’d get over it once they understood that I had Blackbird’s best interest in mind.
Besides, the stack of new benefits applications in my inbox prevented me from worrying anymore about the matter. The week before, a nearby automotive parts manufacturer had announced they were shutting down operations. The nearly two hundred applications that I had to process were just the beginning. I pulled up the program to start processing the applications and happened to glance up at the peeling poster hanging on the back of my office door.
Big friendly letters advertised economic recovery, growth, generous benefits packages, and a whole host of other lies spouted by the propaganda machine that was Down to Earth Energy. It had been nearly a year since they’d won the bid to begin fracking in Blackbird. Not only had they failed to deliver on any of the pie-in-the-sky promises their public relations team made, but also this morning’s quake was a not-so-gentle reminder that Desmond and I still needed to investigate their practices.
* * *
Processing applications took up my entire morning and half my afternoon. By the time the last applicant’s name was in the database, it was nearly three and I’d not yet taken a lunch. To be honest, I was grateful for the distraction. After dealing with the ramped up emotions this morning and the aftermath of the earthquake, I was admittedly a little unhinged.
I considered slipping out of the Cycle. Typically, when things got a little overwhelming, I would go spend some time clearing my head without the constraints of time. The only thing that held me back was the realization that in my current mental state, I was sure to draw the notice of the Creator and I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.
Instead, I spent the next two hours finishing reports and took off an hour early, making up for the lunch I’d neglected to take. The Five Penny would just be opening and I’d
promised Desmond that I’d talk to Donna. At least she couldn’t storm off while she was working. Well, she shouldn’t at least.
Also, I had a sneaking suspicion there would be trouble in the form of Elliot, the guy who had been giving Jocelyn a hard time. He had been walked out after I gave my statement to HR and if I knew Elliot, his first stop would be the Five Penny, where he would proceed to get violently drunk.
I stopped by reception on my way out. Jocelyn seemed to be in better spirits and it didn’t take a leap in logic to see why. Still, I made sure to warn her to have security walk her to her car just in case I was wrong about Elliot’s next move.
* * *
I was nearly bowled over by the emotional overflow that hit me when I entered the bar. It was rare that I went to the Five Penny before late evening and I had forgotten how high strung the happy hour crowd could be. Once I’d turned down my receptors, I did a quick scan to make sure there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary going on. Sure enough, Elliot was simmering in the corner, but luckily, not far away was an off duty police officer who already had his eye on the surly drunk.
Aside from Elliot, most everyone else was content, mainly riding the high of the workday being over. It was still too early for most of the Discordant to be out, so the place was almost unrecognizable.
Almost.
Even with my receptors at a minimum, there was no escaping the waves of turmoil coming off of Donna.
“You’re here early,” she said as she poured me a drink. I was about to protest, but thought twice, given how fragile her façade of composure was. Bringing up the fissure wasn’t going to help the situation, so I accepted the drink despite my stomach’s protest and grabbed a nearby basket of popcorn.
“I didn’t get to take a lunch, so I left early,” I explained and proceeded to regret my decision to snack on the stale popcorn. No, stale was an understatement. I had to wonder in which decade it had been popped. “Since no one was expecting me, I figured I’d come check… I figured I would stop in and say hi.”
Donna’s eyes narrowed at my not at all subtle slip, but instead of going off on me as I would have expected, she held up her hand and went over to speak to Bogie, who looked up and caught my eye. I waved as he nodded something to Donna and she came back.
Friends without Benefits (Rise of the Discordant Book 4) Page 2
