[M__M 03] Misery Loves Company

by Tracey Martin

  “I have work to do. Stuff I should have been working on yesterday when I got sidetracked by the sylphs, and then you. I’m behind.” I tossed off the covers so I could climb over him more easily.

  Devon reached out and yanked me back. He looked alert now, and his hands slid around me, grabbing my backside and waking up more memories. I shuddered with them. “You weren’t really planning on sneaking out on me, were you?”

  “It’s not like I’d never see you again.” And if he didn’t release me soon, I wouldn’t leave. The promise of what he was hiding beneath the sheet tormented me.

  “True.” He let go and proceeded to watch me as I got dressed. “Remember when we first met. I told you never say never.”

  I ran my fingers through my unruly hair, wondering how ridiculous I looked. Spending the night at Devon’s had not been in the plan.

  Okay, so none of what happened had been in the plan, but sex was one thing. Spending the night in his bed felt way more intimate. What if I snored? Or drooled? It had taken some coaxing before I’d been willing to sleep in Lucen’s bed. So what did this suggest? That since I’d finally agreed to sleep with Lucen I was willing to sleep with anyone?

  To be fair to myself, I’d had a strong motivation not to go home. But once Lucen had returned from whatever business Dezzi had sent him on, I hadn’t left. He’d known where I was, and as expected, had encouraged me to stay with Devon. By then, I’d had a couple glasses of wine and was much more open to the suggestion. Not to mention I’d gone a couple rounds with Devon and my body had ached for more.

  And speaking of aches, I wondered how long this soreness would last. And whether normal female satyrs had to deal with it.

  Willing my thoughts back to the task at hand, I rummaged in my pocket and found a hair tie. Victory. “Yeah, yeah. I remember, and let’s forget it. Don’t make me regret this more than I’m already going to.”

  “Please, Jess. The only thing you should regret is not doing this sooner.”

  “I’m warning you.”

  He grinned up at me, smug but charming. “You won’t regret it, and you shouldn’t. It’s not the end of the world, though it may be the end of your worldview. Embrace it. You might find you can be happy for a change.”

  I put my hands over my ears. “I can’t hear you. You’re not my therapist.”

  “Thank all that’s unholy, no. This would have been a serious breach of ethics.”

  I left him there, hoping for his sake that he went back to sleep. It was early, by pred standards, but I was working on a human schedule. By that standard, I was running late.

  I found my shoes in the living room and took a second glance around Devon’s apartment while I put them on. I didn’t remember much of it from last night, having been preoccupied with its owner.

  The place fit him. Everything was modern with white walls and black furniture. Very much the opposite of Lucen’s apartment, which was filled with heavy wood furniture and earth tones.

  Both of them stood in stark contrast to mine, what with my no furniture and few decorations. I felt very much like a little girl fresh out of college, although I was twenty-eight and had never gone. Adulthood? What was that?

  One of these days, I promised myself. One of these days I’d pull myself together and get a real life. Who knew—maybe sleeping with Devon was one more step down that path. It was certainly a change.

  I kept my eyes open for sylphs as I walked home, but like Devon, most of Shadowtown was in bed. No nasty surprises awaited me at my apartment either. I showered, ate breakfast and headed downtown.

  Before returning to the Gryphon library, I stopped at The Feathers’ branch of the public library to see if Olef was around, but he didn’t work on Sundays. I left a message with my phone number for him to get back to me.

  Alas, although I resumed my research at the Gryphon library, it proved just as hopeless. A couple of the books I found in their online system seemed promising, but they weren’t in Boston. I figured out how to put in a request for a loan, and that was that. For all my worrying about how I should have been researching more yesterday, I’d hit a dead end awfully fast. The only thing I might have missed out on was catching Olef at work.

  I tapped my fingers on the table in annoyance. It was three o’clock. It was too early to go bug Lucen about what he’d been up to last night, and I had a few hours before my meeting with Gunthra. I should do something productive, but what? I supposed if Bridget were in, I could ask if she needed my help with Eric’s case.

  Before I could leave the library, however, my phone buzzed with a text. Hoping it was Lucen, wide awake and ready to talk, I pulled it out.

  Instead it was Tom. I’m flying back to Boston tomorrow. Have you had a chance to read those books I left you?

  Ugh. I stared at the message, reluctantly realizing that here was the task I should probably work on the rest of the afternoon.

  Reading them now, I wrote back.

  At home, I spread out on my floor with the books. A light rain had started falling when I left Gryphon headquarters, and the sky had darkened early. I dragged my one lamp into the middle of the room to augment the fading sunlight.

  Tom must have left in a hurry because he hadn’t provided any directions or specific instructions along with the books, just the note that had pissed off Olivia and a list of page numbers unconnected to any individual book.

  That was unfortunate. Even though I was determined to read everything, there was an awful lot, and much of it was snoozily dry. In school, history had never been my favorite subject, nor one I’d excelled at as a result. I’d liked languages and math, but alas, it was history I was supposed to be studying.

  I soldiered on for about an hour when I got a new text. It was from Lucen and only one word. So?

  Does this mean you want to talk about the sylphs? I wrote back, ignoring his more obvious meaning.

  A phone went off right outside my door. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  I threw the door open and found Lucen on my landing. Smiling like a fiend, he offered me a bakery bag.

  “What is this?”

  “Open it and let me in.”

  I stepped back and opened the waxy paper. Inside were two chocolate croissants. Couldn’t say the man didn’t know my weaknesses. “Ooh.”

  Lucen pulled me into a hug, and tension that I hadn’t realized lingered in my shoulders and back drained away. I rested my head on his chest, reveling in the sense of security his arms provided.

  And waiting for guilt to kick in.

  He seemed to know what I was thinking, and he held me tighter. I dug my nails into the cotton of his T-shirt, remembering everything I’d gotten up to in Devon’s office last night. But those memories didn’t stir up guilt. They only made me more aware of Lucen’s sweet cinnamon scent and the way his hard muscles rubbed against my breasts. They made me want to pull him into my bedroom and see what more fun I could get up to today.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay, little siren.” He cupped my cheek and kissed me slow and deep before I could respond, awakening stronger desire. I chased after his lips as he pulled away and settled for his chin. “I hate that I wasn’t there, but I’m glad someone was.”

  “Me too,” I said, sad when he removed his hands. “I mean, ugh. Never mind. That didn’t come out right.”

  Lucen grinned wickedly, and I reddened as he grabbed my hand. “You sure? No guilt. No shame. I like this side of you.”

  “I guess it’s hard to feel guilty when your boyfriend is encouraging you. Sex and emotions though—I still can’t separate them. Devon isn’t some random stranger. I guess I don’t hate him as much as I want to.”

  I mumbled the last part, and Lucen laughed. “About time. He’s someone I trust.”

  “But it’s not like I’m emotionally empty around him. If that’s what you want, I don’t think it’s p
ossible.”

  “Jess, all I want is for us to work. If my idea about needing lots of emotionless sex wasn’t the right one, so be it. I need you to be okay with the way things are, and I’d say this is a big step forward. If you don’t feel guilt over Devon…”

  Then how could I feel upset over him and his addicts? I got it. But thinking of addicts made me think of what Devon had told me about them. It was so different than everything I’d believed, and it opened up a whole new way for me to dream about fixing Lucen’s need for them.

  I’d just keep that dream to myself.

  “So what’s the reason for this?” I asked, holding up the bakery bag. I opened it and inhaled the sweet butter and chocolate. Oh, yum. Possibly the only thing I’d like more on my tongue than the satyr before me.

  Lucen peeled off his rain-soaked jacket. “A celebration?”

  “You are so crazy. I was thinking it was more like an apology for not being available last night when I needed comfort, but no. You’re happy that I slept with your best friend.”

  “I am happy that we’re taking steps to make this work, and yes, I’m happy that you weren’t with a stranger.” He made an apologetic face. “And I’m sorry that Dezzi called me away last night, but hey—you did have pleasant company from the sound of it.”

  I set the croissants on my counter. “Tell me you weren’t comparing notes.”

  “Only humans are that crass. If we’re going to talk about you, it will be to share tips for your benefit.”

  I winced. “How thoughtful.”

  While I took another whiff of the goodies, trying to drive away the image of Lucen and Devon discussing how best to stimulate me, he perused the books. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, just a little light reading for work.”

  “Light reading, clearly.” He thumbed through one of them while I started coffee. “I came over to make sure you were okay with what happened and to talk about the sylph situation, and you’re deep in history books?”

  I collapsed to the floor and offered him Tom’s note. “I promised him I’d take a look.”

  Lucen’s face darkened as he read it. “After everything, you’re taking this seriously. Jess—”

  “Look, it’s not because I want to work with Tom. Okay? There’s more to it than that. There’s Olef’s visions too, and I can’t help but wonder if the two things are related. Olef’s visions sound an awful lot like the prophecies described in some of these books.”

  If anything, that made Lucen unhappier. “This is what you told me about the cities burning?”

  “Yes, and here.” I thrust the book that had the similar passages at him. “Tell me that doesn’t sound like this prophecy. I know it’s crazy. I don’t even know the difference between a prophecy and a vision, but they have too much in common for me to discount it all.”

  Lucen sucked on his lip and opened to the marked page. “The magi consider a vision that’s shared by three or more of their people to be a prophecy. The logic being that the more people who have the vision, the more likely it is to come true.”

  “Oh.” In the kitchen, the coffee water finished boiling, and I paused a moment, parsing Lucen’s words before getting up. “You’re a right fountain of knowledge at times. Why don’t you tell me these things?”

  “Why don’t you ask?”

  “No way. We’re not going down that road again.” I wanted to explain to him that Devon had told me all about the memory loss, but this didn’t seem like the time. Besides, knowing Devon, he’d probably already told Lucen everything about our conversation. It wouldn’t be the first time. “While we’re at it, I don’t suppose you know anything about the Vessels of Making?”

  Lucen looked up sharply. “The Vessels of Making? Is this something to do with the case you’re working on?”

  I spilled coffee on the counter in surprise. “The Gryphon case? No. Why?”

  He stretched out on the floor with one of the books, looking very pleased with himself. “There are a bunch of legends about the Vessels. Not so much today, but back in the Middle Ages they were a big deal. Point is, the only thing all the stories have in common is that the Vessels are considered repositories for massive amounts of stored power.”

  I brought two mugs of coffee into the living room, pondering this. “Repositories for power. Like the containers the goblins and sylphs must be using to hoard the power they stole from their addicts.”

  “Exactly, only we’re talking on a massively larger scale. Power that could feed a domus, or power that a few individual people could channel into one hell of a spell. See?” He handed me the book.

  The page it was open to showed a fairly plain cup, somewhere in shape between a bowl and a goblet. It was different than the drawing I’d glimpsed at Gunthra’s, but it suggested the same idea. “You found all that in here? I was hoping there’d be information, but I didn’t know where to look.”

  “No, I knew all that already.” He tucked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “But there’s a bit about them in the book. They’re in the index under their Latin name.”

  I swore, and Lucen continued to bask in his superiority.

  Sipping my coffee, I paged through the brief text related to the Vessels. Alas, it contained nothing that I hadn’t found already, and only reiterated that the Vessels had been lost for centuries. “Why would a legend like this be in Tom’s so-called history books?”

  “Legends and history often go together, particularly where magical lore is concerned. What I want to know…” he sat up and cupped his coffee mug, “…is why you’re interested in this if your curiosity wasn’t sparked by the case you’re on?”

  Briefly, I told him about my new deal with Gunthra. He had a few choice words about that, but he found her interest in the Vessels as strange as I had. In return, he told me about his meeting with Dezzi and Assym last night.

  He’d been there as backup for her, along with a couple other particularly threatening satyrs. Devon had been left out in case the meeting didn’t go over well and he had to take on Dezzi’s duties during the fallout. Although Dezzi hadn’t shared any details about what I was, nor her offer about the council seat, she’d threatened Assym with something—here, Lucen refused to provide details—and it sounded like Assym was going to back off. Temporarily anyway. According to Lucen, he wanted desperately to know how I’d done what I’d done, and as long as that was a secret, the satyrs had power over him.

  I wanted to make a snarky comment about pred politics, but I held my tongue. I was a pred, after all. The more I thought about it, the more I accepted that Devon was right. I had to own it. That led me down another path, and I told Lucen about my conversation with Steph.

  “You blew her mind, little siren. That’s all.”

  “What if, in the end, she hates me?”

  He took my hands. “She’s not going to hate you. She just needs to reconcile two very different opinions. Cognitive dissonance is a bitch, as you should know. Give her time.”

  I sighed, kicking one of Tom’s books aside. “What if that’s in short supply? What if this prophecy is on a collision course with us?”

  “What if you get hit by a bus tomorrow? No sense worrying about what you can’t change. But on the off-chance that the bus is coming, you shouldn’t wait to thank me for my extensive brainpower.”

  “Brawn and brains all in one.” I climbed onto his lap and draped my arms over his shoulders. “How did I get that lucky?”

  He rested his hands on my hips, sliding his thumbs along the bare skin at my waistband. “I don’t know, but I think you should show me some appreciation.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I could think of only one reason why Gunthra might be interested in the Vessels of Making, and I suspected she wouldn’t be pleased when I brought it up.

  She already was not pleased because I arrived a
t her house with Misery strapped to my hip again. “It’s unnecessary and unfriendly of you to arrive at my house carrying a lethal weapon.”

  I tapped my fingers against my legs. “I wasn’t aware we were friends, therefore I don’t see how unfriendly applies.”

  Gunthra could make a face every bit as disdainful as her butler. Impressive. “You are in no danger from Assym or the sylphs. I heard that Dezzi had a rather forceful chat with him last night concerning your safety. Seems she intends to bring you into her fold.”

  I held my face impassive, hoping it would quiet whatever errant emotions might give something away. “Dezzi was clear with me that the choice to join her domus was mine.”

  “And yet she’s taken up on your behalf. That suggests a rather strong interest in you. I think she’s recruiting you.”

  I tapped my fingers harder, studying my nails as a distraction. I should have known Gunthra would want to discuss recent events. No doubt she was hoping to get me to spill satyr secrets.

  “It would be quite a coup for her to have a satyr in her domus who was also trusted by the Gryphons,” Gunthra continued. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Plus with your unique abilities, you’d make an important asset. Assym is seething with curiosity as to how you did it.”

  I flattened my hands to stop the damn tapping. “You haven’t told him?”

  “I don’t give out information for free.”

  Of course not.

  “Speaking of which, do you have any for me?” She crossed her legs and settled back against her cushions.

  “I have some, but it might not be anything you don’t already know. The Gryphon library here in Boston wasn’t exactly teeming with details. I had to put in interlibrary loans requests.”

  A muscle in Gunthra’s ear twitched. She had no reason not to believe, seeing as she could tell if I were lying, so maybe she was displeased by the ineptitude of the Gryphon’s Boston librarian. “Tell me what you did find out.”

  I wanted the name she owed me first, but I also knew better than to think I’d get it. So I recounted everything I’d read, as well as the information Lucen had given me. When I finished, Gunthra fell still.