“Seriously? Being framed once was like getting hit by lightning. Random bad luck.” Except it wasn’t, and I knew better.
Also, as I defended myself, it occurred to me they might have a valid concern. In a way, I had been putting them at risk because of my soul-swapping. At any time I could have brought serious trouble down on myself or those around me.
But that was beside the point. Val had no clue what she was talking about, and shit. I was pissed off and didn’t feel like being reasonable.
“Fine. Whatever. If you want me to go, I’ll start looking for a new place. Since I’m consulting for the Gryphons now, I’m sure I can afford something nicer.”
“You’re consulting for the Gryphons?” Geoff called after me as I stormed out of the room. “Doing what?”
I threw open my bedroom door. “Catching bad guys, obviously. Apparently I have a knack for it.”
I could hear them talking in low voices in the living room, and worse, taste their conflict. I’d caught them off-guard with the Gryphon thing, and I wouldn’t be half surprised if Val changed her mind. She was one of those people who thought Gryphons walked on water. But even if she did reconsider, I didn’t care. They wanted me out? I was so gone.
Taking a deep breath, I sent Lucen a text asking if I could come over. I had to leave the apartment, and he closed The Lair on Sundays, so I couldn’t just pop in there to hang out.
Pity, too, because I could use a drink. My anger was fading to annoyance and no small amount of feeling abused. It kept me wired, but not in a good way.
Only what I thought of as the major emotions gave me a smooth burst of energy: anger, sadness, fear and hatred. Lust worked pretty well on me too, although that didn’t fall into the same category, and I assumed it was only because I was part satyr. All the other negativity people carried around—anxiety, embarrassment, frustration and more—made me jittery.
On that thought, maybe it was time to get rid of roommates entirely if I could afford it. I’d never had much choice before. Boston rents were high, and even with soul-swapping on the side, I could never have managed a place on my own on my old salary. But with what the Gryphons were paying me, maybe I could at last. If I were willing to look in Shadowtown…
It wasn’t something I’d have ever considered before, but since I no longer had to fear preds any more than I feared strange and violent humans, it was worth considering. Shadowtown rents were cheaper because places weren’t in as high demand. Humans had to be pretty desperate to live there in spite of the prime downtown real estate. It was worth asking Lucen about it.
On cue, my phone signaled the arrival of a text. Come on over. I’ll make you dinner.
My shoulders sagged in relief. Until that moment I hadn’t realized how uncertain I’d been about his answer. It was good to know he wasn’t upset about me stomping out of the bar yesterday. Or, if he was, he was willing to talk about it.
I grabbed my belongings and, after checking that the path between my bedroom door and the apartment door was clear, got the hell out of Dodge.
I must have been throwing off a black enough cloud that Lucen could sense my arrival. His door swung open before I could knock. He’d just showered, judging by his wet hair, and he smelled like soap mixed with his usual satyr cinnamon.
“Hey.” God, I loved the devious gleam he got in his eyes sometimes. I was relaxing already.
“Hey.” He shut the door and pulled me close.
I buried my head against him, inhaling deeply, letting the magic I’d once feared do a glorious job of chasing away more of my tension. One by one my muscles relaxed while my hunger for his body grew. Satyr pheromones were better than any massage or drug.
Drug. F. Damn. Some of that tension returned to my shoulders.
I pressed myself closer as he kissed me, but he pulled away. “What’s wrong, little siren? You’re really stressed.”
I grabbed his shirt, sliding it up his stomach. “I know. I’m trying to destress. Work with me.”
He laughed and removed my hands. “How about something to eat and drink first? I think you should start slowly and tell me what’s up. You ran away so fast yesterday that I was wondering when I’d hear from you again.”
Groaning, I followed him into the kitchen. “Aha. This is punishment for me running out, is it?”
“Yes, I always punish people by pouring them wine and cooking them dinner. You know how evil I am.”
I pouted, watching him get out the glasses. “Sorry. I am feeling irritable. You just happen to make me hot and irritable.”
Lucen grinned and handed me a glass of merlot. “Little siren, much as I enjoy toying with your desire—and yes, I do, can’t help that—it costs me something not to touch you too. I’d just like us to have a normal conversation first. We haven’t done that in a while.”
“Does it? Cost you something, I mean?” I sipped the wine and had to admit it was very good, though not as good as he’d have been. “I always figured satyrs could flip the sex thing on and off on command. It’s how you torment people.”
“Not exactly…no.” A flicker of some emotion passed over his face. “It’s actually more complicated than that.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard him hedge so much on anything. It was very un-Lucen-like. “Meaning?”
“I can explain another time. Drink your wine and tell me what’s bothering you.”
Okay then. Shut down twice in five minutes. That certainly necessitated drinking. “My roommates are kicking me out.”
He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat backward on it. “What the hell? Is this because of what happened with Aubrey?”
“Yup. Apparently, I make them uncomfortable. But it’s fine. I’m getting too old for this roommate crap, and I was thinking I might be able to find a one-bedroom or a studio in Shadowtown I could afford on my own. I want to stay close to a T line.”
“You know, I distinctly remember a time not that long ago when you were afraid of being outcast among humans and forced to live with us.”
“Yes, but I’m more practical these days.”
He pointed to my knife. “And armed.”
In more ways than he knew. “Yeah. So do you know of any decent landlords who lease to humans around here?”
Lucen nodded. “I can help you there. Would be convenient having you closer by. In fact…” He swung himself off the chair. “If you don’t feel like dealing with your roommates until you move out, you can stay here more often.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” I’d been staying over several nights a week, but only when he asked. Lucen had other things going on in his life besides me. To be specific, he had other people in his bed. Keeping his addicts healthy meant satiating their needs every now and then, and I didn’t care to be around for that. The less I remembered he had to do that at all, the happier I was.
On the other hand, my indignation simmered, and I really wanted to get away from Geoff and Val. If there was a way we could schedule this living thing temporarily so that I could keep pretending Lucen wasn’t preying on or screwing other people, it might be worth it to me.
“I’ve got the extra bedroom,” Lucen said. “You’re welcome to it. You don’t make me uncomfortable. I like having you here.”
I rolled my eyes at the ongoing joke. “Except when you’re making me wait.”
“Anticipation, little siren. You have to let the rush build.” He raised his glass to me. “So what else is bothering you? I don’t think that’s the only thing.”
“No, it’s not. I had to go in to work today.”
“And?”
“And.” I set my glass down and wrapped my arms around myself. Since I wasn’t sure how much had been in the news or what he might know from other sources, I gave Lucen a brief rundown of what had been discovered in Newton. “The Gryphons did some magical analyses on the victims’ blood.
They found what they think is contaminated F.”
It was my turn to wait and watch. Lucen was quiet for a second, then his face turned to surprise. Whether it was genuine, however… Who knew? My job would have been a whole lot easier if I could read preds the way I read humans.
“That’s odd,” he said finally.
I wasn’t sure what sort of reaction would have been useful, but I knew I wasn’t getting it. “That was our thought too. Satyrs make F, right?” As far as attempts at subtlety went, that was lame. It was also the best I had.
Lucen raised an eyebrow and took another drink. “Usually.”
“Usually?”
“F is usually produced by satyrs because you’d need satyr cooperation to make it. It doesn’t have to be made by satyrs though. Theoretically, anyone magically skilled could do it if they could get the ingredients.”
I picked up my wine, trying to get a better look at his face as he opened the fridge. “Because one of those ingredients happens to be satyr pheromones?”
“That’s part of it, but you know enough about magic to know it’s more complicated than that. I was going to suggest spaghetti bolognese for dinner, but I know you’re not a fan of pasta. Burgers on the grill okay?”
“Fine. Go back to the magic thing. How is it produced?”
“Did you come over here for my company or to question me?”
“I thought I’d made it pretty clear before that it was for your company.”
The suspicious expression on his face turned to amusement. “Company? I thought you’d made it pretty clear it was for sex.”
“Which is something I prefer in your company. You’re the one who wanted to talk first.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He was against me in a second, his hands on my arms and his mouth on mine. I sank into the kiss even as my brain screamed he was trying to distract me. It was working too. I was slowly becoming less concerned with everything except the feel of his body, and if he hadn’t pinned my arms to my sides, the ploy might have worked. But Lucen had pressed me against the cabinets, and I couldn’t touch him. As hot as it could be when he restrained me on occasion, this time my inability to move left me with enough brainpower to stay focused.
I pulled my head away, gasping for breath. “Nope. You chose to talk. I want to talk.”
“I changed my mind.” He reached for my mouth again, and when I dodged, he went for my neck, trailing kisses down my skin. Releasing my arms at last, his hands slipped under my shirt and cupped my breasts.
It was difficult enough to breathe, never mind think with his thumbs teasing my nipples. My body screamed to let him continue, and the scent of his skin was stronger than ever. He had to be hitting me with everything he had. I was moaning against my will, aching, and the part of me that could think straight was getting annoyed.
Recognition of such was all it took. The protective glyphs the Gryphons had drawn on my back grew warm. I focused on that heat, so unlike the heat the rest of me was feeling, and pulled the power in deeper. I hadn’t thought I’d need to use their magic at all, but I guess it could be handy.
With the protective magic dulling my senses to Lucen’s power, I pushed him backward and extricated myself from the cabinet. “You don’t get to do that. You know I want you, but I’m not an addict you get to fuck into submission.”
Lucen flinched. Then he ran a hand through his drying hair with an apologetic expression. “Sorry, Jess. You haven’t minded when I’ve used my magic on you before.”
“No, but that’s not the point, and you know it.” I wanted to stay angry at him, but the chagrin on his face was softening me. Damn him. “You were using it to try to distract me. That’s what I object to.”
I didn’t expect him to deny it, and he didn’t. But then, I suspected that Lucen didn’t lie to me often, if at all. If he didn’t want to tell me something, he was upfront about it. Maddening, but honest.
He was quiet a moment longer while I fixed my clothes. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I’m going to go light the grill.”
I collapsed at the table with my wine as he stepped onto his tiny deck off the kitchen. Well, this had gotten off to a great start. The Gryphons thought I was going to dig out information? The only satyr I could actually call a friend was not merely clamming up on me, but being dickish and manipulative about it. Lucen must know something about F that he didn’t want to tell me.
I wasn’t going to get answers. Just frustrated in a variety of ways.
I was mostly through my wine when Lucen returned. He opened the fridge and took out the food. “Come on outside. It’s cooling off.”
I eyed him warily from where my head rested on my arm, then joined him. It had indeed cooled off, but the setting sun continued to throw off an orange-gold heat that illuminated the deck. Especially with the grill going, it was toasty.
Lucen’s deck was barely big enough for the two of us and the table of charm-making supplies he had out here. There were glass jars filled with clear liquid that could have been water but probably wasn’t, and a variety of substances of even less certain origin. Some required time to soak in the sun, others the moon. Hence, their positions on the table. I didn’t touch them, but I examined them.
“They’re mostly for making some basic healing aids,” Lucen said, putting the burgers on the grill. “Can’t be too careful when you’re friends with a woman who carries a salamander-forged knife around at all times.”
He smiled, and I returned the gesture. Mostly for making healing aids. Got it. He wasn’t about to say what the rest were for. “Maybe I should take the knife off before I try jumping on you next time? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“Maybe not a bad idea. It’s all fun and games until one of us bleeds to death.”
His tone was joking, but I’d seen what those blades did. Lucen had only been nicked by one once. If it weren’t for having a magical remedy quickly on hand, he might well have bled out from it. The memory of seeing so much of his blood everywhere still horrified me.
He probably noticed my anxiety because he kissed me again, less chastely this time but with none of his magic behind it. “So you want to know about how F is made?”
I almost knocked my wineglass into one of his jars in surprise. He was going to talk, after all? “I’d appreciate learning whatever you’re willing to share.”
“Honestly, little siren, I don’t make it, so I can only tell you in the most general of general senses. So back to your first question—yes, it’s usually made by satyrs because it requires certain bodily fluids that would be challenging to get without our cooperation.”
I choked on the wine. “Really? That’s what goes into it?”
He laughed. “Sweat. It’s a potent source of pheromones. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Ah, okay. I mean, not that I’d have been shocked or anything if it were something else.”
Lucen continued to silently chuckle as he finished his wine. “In the future, keep in mind that you never want to ask what the goblins put in their fertility charms.”
I shuddered. “Thanks for the warning. So anything else you can tell me about F?”
“Don’t know. You tell me—what was the F contaminated with? Magic or mundane?”
“Magic.”
He flipped the burgers thoughtfully. “Then I can’t tell you much except if it’s being cut with something, it’s probably happening with one of the dealers.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Dealers are usually addicts. They’d have to be buying charms or curses off another pred to mix in. Why would they do that?”
“I have no idea, but she—” He swore and shut the grill.
“She? It’s a she who produces F? Just one person?”
Lucen opened the deck’s screen door with unnecessary force. “Jess, if you want me to ask some quest
ions for you, I can. But you’re on the wrong trail, and you’re just going to have to take my word on that and any answers I get.”
“Not good enough. Nine people are dead, and you know who produces our best lead.”
He returned to the deck a moment later, carrying a plate and some cheese. “Nine people are dead, and it has nothing to do with us. Why is everyone so eager to blame us for murder these days? First it was the sylphs. Now it’s you. I think you’d have learned. It’s probably the furies again. We’re the least violent of your so-called pred races.”
Generally speaking, that was true. “Well, it would be convenient if it were the furies, since they already hate me. This doesn’t seem like their M.O. though.”
Lucen handed me the burger plate. “Nor ours, little siren. Don’t forget that.”
Chapter Eight
I scored a second good night’s rest in a row, then snuck out of bed Monday morning while Lucen slept. After a quick trip to my apartment so I could refill my overnight bag, I headed into work.
There was something thrillingly strange about being around so many Gryphons and clipping an ID badge to my shirt while knowing that last night I’d been sleeping with the so-called enemy. Badge or no badge, I didn’t fit in around this place for a multitude of reasons.
That didn’t affect my enthusiasm, however, when I saw what was hanging on the back of my desk chair. “Sweet.”
Someone had dropped off an official windbreaker. Black with gold lettering and the winged insignia on the back, it was the sort of jacket Gryphons wore over their uniforms in chillier weather. Although this wasn’t the sort of weather that called for jackets, I’d take it. Honestly, I hadn’t expected Olivia would give me one.
I put the windbreaker back on the chair and checked the new pile of notes that had been left for me. One was from Andre, telling me to email him once I got in and set up.
IT’s instructions for getting on the computer worked fine, and I found Andre’s address in my email program, along with those of the rest of the Boston office. While I waited to see what he wanted, I explored the file access I’d been given. There was a document left on the computer desktop for me, explaining my access allowances, though it was only a rehash of what Olivia and Andre had explained. Basically, my access was seriously limited. I’d have to ask for anything I wanted.
Dirty Little Misery (Miss Misery) Page 8
