Dirty Little Misery (Miss Misery)

by Tracey Martin

  Ignoring the old-fashioned, sexist language, the message was clear. The Gryphons had always been a humans-only and humans-first organization. They often allied themselves with the magi, a race of bird shapeshifters, but there were no magi in the Gryphon organization itself.

  So despite what Olivia Lee said, it had never been obvious to me that a human with a non-human power should turn to them for help, and I said as much.

  “That’s unfortunate, because I think this organization could have benefitted from your talents.” Olivia absently moved some of the files around on her desk. From beneath one of them, she produced a new paper and slid it toward me. “However, now that we know what you can do, I’d like to rectify the situation. I want you to come work for us.”

  I froze, certain I’d heard incorrectly. “You what?”

  “Given your past activities, we’d have to consider this on a trial basis, and you’d only have limited clearance, but I’d like to bring you in as a special consultant on cases where you’d be useful.”

  I gaped at her. All my life, I’d longed to be a Gryphon like my father had been. The pain of my gift turning rogue, the bitterness of getting kicked out of the Academy and watching my friends graduate—those things had haunted me like a curse for the past ten years.

  Until two weeks ago. Until I’d been framed for a series of gruesome murders and the Gryphons had become obstacles to clearing my name. And until I’d learned the truth about my biology and the Gryphons had become, by their very ideals, potential enemies.

  I glanced down at the paper, which appeared to be some sort of hiring agreement, but I didn’t take it. “You want to give me a job?”

  Olivia’s dark eyes bore into me. “Let me be frank. I’m not sure ‘want’ is the most apt word, but I think you could be useful. I’ve been over your records from your time at the Academy, and I have to admit I was surprised to discover how highly your teachers regarded you. You had a very powerful gift, and you were at the top of your class academically. It’s impressive.”

  Now that I was sure I’d heard right. “You’re surprised I wasn’t failing out?”

  “Considering what you’ve done.”

  “You mean help people?”

  Olivia pursed her lips. “I mean trading away innocent people’s souls.”

  “I explained that. I think we have a very different definition of innocent. Those people were evil. I would know.”

  Olivia’s face filled with disdain. “That’s the problem precisely. Did you never think? The only thing worse than a truly innocent person being enslaved to a pred is a pred enslaving a violent criminal—the sort of person who might enjoy carrying out whatever horrible demands they’re ordered to do. Who might go above and beyond for the sheer joy of it, or to please their master.”

  My rebuttal died on my tongue, recognizing it had lost the argument before it could begin. Well, damn. Actually, I hadn’t thought about it that way. I wasn’t certain most preds engaged in illegal activities any more than most humans, but they definitely didn’t hold much regard for the human laws they ostensibly obeyed.

  This realization must have shown on my face, judging by Olivia’s triumphant expression. “Without your former academic record to go by, I’d have thought you were very stupid. Instead, it appears you’re just reckless, mercenary and shortsighted.”

  Scowling, I flung her hiring agreement farther away. “I concede the point, but you’re not exactly doing a good job of convincing me to come work for you.”

  “That’s unfortunate, because my good will and willingness to give you a second chance are all that stand between you and a prison cell. Endangering humans is only the beginning of what I could charge you with if I chose.”

  My heartbeat stuttered.

  Was it? I always assumed I was keeping a toe on the line that separated the questionably ethical from the flat-out illegal. As a result, I’d gone in to this appointment figuring there were a dozen minor laws I could be accused of breaking, but any decent lawyer could get me a livable deal. Probably the sort that involved mandatory community service.

  But endangering humans? That was a felony, and way more than a couple toes over the line. More like an entire foot.

  Damn. Though I hated being a gracious loser, and hated even more that she’d gotten the upper hand on me so easily, Olivia Lee was right about two things. I wasn’t stupid. And I didn’t want to go to jail.

  “Well, then, you should have said so,” I said, adopting my sweetest voice as I picked up the agreement. “That’s so much more persuasive.”

  In the future, I was going to have to be way more careful about what I wished for.

  Chapter Two

  I left the Director’s office in a daze and found my way back to the lobby. There, standing among the commotion with dozens of voices echoing off the marble floor, I paused. Conscious of a stress headache forming behind my eyes, I staked out an empty but friendly-looking patch of wall to mentally regroup.

  Finally, I was living my dream, only the dream had become a nightmare. The Gryphons were blackmailing me. Blackmailing me! Weren’t they supposed to be the good guys?

  Okay, fine—I suppose the legal phrase would be they were “cutting me a deal”, but that was merely a euphemism. It still amounted to work for them or go to jail.

  Sounded like blackmail to me.

  To be fair, it was a sweet blackmail-like offer. The Gryphons were going to pay me for this consulting gig, and the money Olivia Lee had offered was nothing to whine about. I didn’t know what the going rate for a Gryphon consultant was—I didn’t even think there was such a thing until today—but if I only ended up working part-time, I’d still be making more than I had full-time at my last job. Besides, considering how the whole being-framed-for-murder ordeal had cost me my last job, I’d have had a strong inducement to take the offer anyway.

  To be more than fair to the Gryphons, it would probably be fascinating work too. That said, I was so over wanting to be a Gryphon. But what choice did I have? I didn’t want to end up in a jail cell next to Victor Aubrey either.

  I pushed my hair behind my ears, breathing deeply and focusing on a woman in the far corner of the lobby. She was on the phone, and though I couldn’t hear her conversation, something upset her. I sucked on the sweet, vanilla sadness she emanated, hoping the energy hit would clear my head and ease the headache away before it could take over.

  It worked. Mostly. Feeling more focused, I checked the time. I hadn’t been in the Director’s office long, which meant if I hurried, I could stop at my apartment before heading to Lucen’s.

  A surprisingly quick time later, I opened my apartment door and reached out with my gift, searching the place for signs of emotion. All I got back was emptiness. Excellent. I rushed down the short hallway and frowned when I encountered my bedroom door. Someone had taped a note to it. Not so excellent. I ripped it off as I entered my room.

  In the days immediately following Victor’s arrest, my roommates Geoff and Valerie had done their best to avoid me. Bruised and beaten, mentally and emotionally, I’d been thankful for that as I recovered. But my reprieve from their curiosity hadn’t lasted long.

  Once the news spread that I was a key witness in Victor’s murders and that I’d resisted arrest by the Gryphons in connection with his crimes, I suddenly became very interesting. Not just to my roommates, but to the press.

  The latter was easy enough to ignore, particularly since I’d been forbidden—legally—from speaking. But for a few days, Geoff and Val had begged me for details. After they got as many from me as I was willing and able to provide, they’d started avoiding me again. I wasn’t sure how much of my non-human magical skills they’d discovered, but it must have been enough.

  I ripped open the note, scanned it and dumped it in the trash. They wanted to talk. Whatever. I’d already suffered through one unpleasant conversation today. I
wasn’t hanging around for another. If it was important, they had my cell number.

  Throwing my jacket on the bed, I examined myself in the mirror and decided I needed to change. My jeans and shirt were fine for working at a bar, but I assumed I’d be spending the night at Lucen’s once it closed. That required less practical, more attractive underwear. I took care of that, then stuck a set of clean clothes in my duffel bag for tomorrow and added my most important accessory to my outfit.

  Once upon a time, that would have been a protective charm, but I no longer felt the need for one of those. My current accessory, which I’d named Misery, was one of several reasons why.

  Misery was a sleek, nicely balanced knife I’d stolen from a fury bar. The black blade announced to the world it had been forged in salamander fire, which, besides making it extremely expensive, meant it was the only type of weapon capable of killing a pred. As a bonus, the single word engraved on the hilt—souffrance—announced to me that we were made for each other.

  This was the main reason I’d wanted to stop at home before heading to Lucen’s. Although I trusted him and no longer had reason to fear a pred’s attempts to addict me, I’d made lots of enemies in the preds’ neighborhood during the past few weeks. Being visibly armed with a lethal weapon just made good sense.

  With the knife strapped to my hip and my hair pulled off my neck, I was ready. I grabbed my bag and left before Geoff or Val showed up.

  Not surprisingly for a Friday evening, the trains were packed, and a large group of humans got off at the Shadowtown T station with me. For many, particularly barely legal college students and recent grads, going to a pred-owned bar was simply another type of thrill-seeking behavior. Much like doing a hundred miles per hour on the Mass Pike without a seat belt or skydiving without a parachute.

  Some people were idiots.

  Those idiots, however, made up a large portion of the clientele for Lucen’s bar, The Lair, so I wasn’t surprised when several of them trailed after me. Located a short block from the T stop, The Lair was an easy to get to, easy to get out of location for stupid humans. It was also the unofficial gathering spot for Boston’s most powerful satyrs, possibly the result of Lucen being the third on his Dom’s council.

  Speaking of powerful satyrs, a familiar one was sitting at one of The Lair’s few outside tables. Devon raised his beer to me as I walked down the four steps onto the sunken patio. He was the first—the lieutenant—on the satyr’s council, and a good friend of Lucen’s. Perhaps because of that, he was nice to me. I almost liked him, though I trusted him as much as any other pred. Which was to say not even half as far as I could throw him.

  My muscles tensed, waiting for intense lust to come over me like it used to every time I was surrounded by satyrs, but it never arrived. During my final confrontation with the furies, I’d used my power to reverse the bond on the one who’d addicted me. That act seemed to have fried my emotional nerve endings. I no longer felt much of any pred’s power—no harpy jealousy, no fury anger, no sylph self-doubt, no goblin greed and no satyr lust. It was like wearing the ultimate protective charm.

  And it was fabulous.

  It was also one of those secrets I was keeping close to my chest. Like the Gryphons, the less the preds knew about my abilities, the better.

  But immunity to pred magic aside, I had to admit something about Devon’s voice made my body a little hotter. I blamed it on his faint British accent. “Lucen mentioned where you were. So I see you’re still a free woman? Good to know.”

  I threw him a sarcastic smile. “Not that free.”

  “One day I’ll change your mind.” He lowered his sunglasses, and his mischievous blue eyes traveled the length of my body. “You should know, Jess, I had my lawyer on speed dial for you.”

  I stepped out of the way as the humans who’d been behind me entered the bar. The other satyrs at Devon’s table were checking me out too. I recognized a couple of them but didn’t know their names. “I’m betting you always have your lawyer on speed dial.”

  “Okay, yes, that’s true. But for you, I’d have used it.” His oh-so-earnest tone got a laugh out of me, and Devon grinned.

  Leaving him behind, I entered the bar, and my eyes adjusted to the dim light. The Lair was nice, not what most people would expect from a satyr-owned bar. Dark red walls. Dark wood tables and booths. Understated décor. Lucen had taste, and I liked to believe the fact he found me interesting was proof of such.

  Predictably, the bar was packed too. Satyrs and the occasional harpy mingled with the idiot humans, who were clearly infected with the preds’ power. I tried to ignore them. All that unrequited lust should be boosting my energy levels and leaving a distinctly delicious taste in my mouth, but the satyrs lapped it up before I could.

  “Jess!” Lucen darted out from behind the bar, and now the only lust that mattered was my own.

  As far as I was concerned, Lucen was exactly what a creature of lust should look like, and I wasn’t referring to the small horns all satyrs had. From his honey-blond waves, to his broad shoulders, to the six-pack he hid beneath his tight T-shirt, he made my mouth water—and he had, like no other satyr could, since the day we met.

  Even with my increased resistance to pred magic, my heartbeat quickened and my blood grew hot. He was the only one of his race who retained that effect on me.

  I dropped my bag as he wrapped his arms around me, and though I tried to feel merely relieved and comforted by his presence, that didn’t work out so well. I mean, I did feel relieved, but that was far from all. As usual, his magic smelled lightly of cinnamon, and as I breathed it in, it took all my willpower not to start undressing him right here. But damn, I wanted nothing more than to run my hands beneath his shirt, feel the heat of skin and taste his tongue in my mouth.

  He fed off my lust too. I could feel him growing hard as he pressed more tightly against me. Unfortunately, the bar was busy, which meant I had to settle for only a long, slow kiss. Still, it was enough to make my skin tingle from my neck to my toes.

  Lucen ran his thumb down my cheek, and my eyes closed involuntarily. “I got your text. Since they didn’t arrest you, what was the meeting about?”

  I backed away and picked up my bag, my nerves almost past the point of no return. The last thing I wanted was to become one of those stupid humans driven to doing sociably questionable things in public because of satyr magic. “Long story. I’ll explain later. Let me dump this, and I’ll make myself useful.”

  Lucen shook his head like I was crazy, but he let me pass. “If you insist, little siren.”

  “I insist.”

  Yes, it was true that a cocktail waitress with a sprained wrist was not the most useful employee. Apparently, Lucen hadn’t expected me to actually work when he’d offered me the job. His reason for doing so, he’d claimed, was simply because he liked having me here, a phrase he’d clarified in multiple positions and in multiple places around the bar ever since, including on top of the bar itself, several tables and in the kitchen.

  But as much as I’d enjoyed his employee benefits package, I also had pride, and I intended to work for the cash I was supposed to be earning. As long as I could pour beers and serve drinks, albeit with less grace than I might like, then I would.

  And so I did over the next eight hours. The satyrs and harpies thinned out soon after I arrived. Most probably had to head to their own jobs, since for preds the setting sun meant their day was just beginning. But the human crowd didn’t let up until around midnight, denying me time to ruminate over my situation with the Gryphons. When Lucen hung up the closed sign at two a.m., he looked at me expectantly, but I pressed my lips together. His other bartender, Paulius, was wiping down the last of the glasses, and this was a conversation best had in private.

  While they finished the cleanup, I traipsed up the back stairs. Lucen lived above The Lair, in an airy apartment that was roomier, cleaner and way be
tter furnished than my own. By the fireplace, his pet dragon, Sweetpea, snorted at me from within his cage. He was a young dragon and every bit as antisocial as the worst of his species, but he couldn’t breathe true fire yet. A puff of smoke dissipated into the air as I passed.

  “Oh, give it up,” I told him, flopping on the sofa and grasping a cushion to my chest. “You should be used to me by now.”

  Sweetpea snorted again and raked a claw against the cage floor, a gesture I took to mean, Come closer you stinky, magical mammal so I can bite you.

  I declined the offer.

  The door at the top of the back stairs creaked, and I tossed the pillow away. A tiny entryway joined the kitchen to the living room, and craning my neck, I could see straight into the far side of the apartment. A moment later Lucen appeared in the kitchen. He looked tired as he pushed sweaty hair off his face. Even with the door propped open and ceiling fans going, the number of bodies packed into the bar had made it hot. A thin layer of sweat coated my skin, and I gave my arm a covert sniff. On Lucen, sweat looked good. On me, not so much.

  “I saw that, little siren.” He grabbed two cans of soda and handed one to me.

  I took a long sip. “Maybe I should go shower.”

  “Only if I can join you.”

  “When have I ever objected to that?”

  Lucen set his soda down and bent over me. “I don’t know? The better part of the past decade?”

  I slipped my hands under his shirt, my heart beating faster. His closeness was like the sun burning off my sleepiness. It also relieved the aches in my feet and drove away my anger at the Gryphons. Being on fire had never felt better. “Okay, true. But I’ve been making up for it lately.”

  Lucen climbed onto the sofa next to me. Smiling, he tugged me on top of him. “Prove it.”

  Like I needed the challenge. Was there any better form of stress relief than a beautiful, adoring man offering himself up to you?

  I pulled my shirt off, then ran my fingers over his stomach until he took off his own. The line of blond hairs that ran from his chest into his waistband called to me, and I set my lips to them, slowly kissing my way down. As he was a pred, I couldn’t taste Lucen’s emotions, but I could hear the way his breathing changed and feel his body shifting beneath mine, and it was as heady a rush as anything I’d ever experienced.