"Really?" Theresa's tail switched with excitement. "You think there might be a way we can get Justine laid? She really needs to lighten up. She's driving me crazy with all her rules."
"What are you guys, my pimps or something?" Justine folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the far counter. "Thanks, but I'm all set."
Iris rubbed her chin. "Maybe if you had him blindfold you, that might work. Then it would be faceless sex."
"I've never tried blindfolds." Theresa picked up a dishtowel and fingered it thoughtfully. "It's challenging to have cybersex blindfolded, you know? Logistical difficulties."
Iris continued her musings. "Or if you skipped foreplay and went right into hammertime. But that wouldn't be as good for you, and that's not fair."
Oh, for heaven's sake. "Mom—"
"I assume you like foreplay?" Iris continued. "I do. I especially like it when—"
"Satan's Rivka almost killed me tonight," Justine interrupted. Please, someone, spare me from this discussion.
Iris blinked. "What?"
"See my singed hair? Burned scalp?" Hopefully, there were a few scars still left. "She threw a fireball at me and almost melted my head off."
A slow flush rose up Iris's neck to her cheeks. "That son-of-a-bitch told me he was going to send her to keep you safe. And I believed him." She lunged to her feet. "I can't believe he lied to me again! I'm going to go find him and—"
"It was an accident," Justine said quickly. Somehow, sending her mom off in a rage after the evilest being that existed didn't seem like a good idea. "She didn't mean to."
Iris took a deep breath and eyed her. "What exactly happened tonight?"
"She was aiming for..." Maybe she shouldn't mention the burnt flowerpots. No need for Satan to know how Becca had dodged his orders. "...Derek, and I got in the way."
"So, she didn't try to kill you? You swear?"
"I swear. She was trying to keep me safe." She studied her mom, who had sagged into her chair with relief. "How did you get Satan to send his Rivka to protect me? Why isn't he after the Goblet?"
"The power of withholding sex, my dear." Iris gave Theresa a meaningful look. "You should try it, too. Even withholding cybersex should work. Women have power over men. It's nature, and you must take advantage of it whenever possible."
Not the advice she wanted with the memory of Derek's kiss still sizzling on her skin. Surely, liberally doling out sex could be a weapon as well, couldn't it?
Iris sighed. "Now that I've thought about it, I don't think there's a way around the prohibition. I think you must continue to abstain unless you can get the Treatise updated." A high-pitched ringing filled the apartment. "I have to go."
"What?" Theresa's tail smacked the floor. "You can't announce Justine has to stay celibate and then leave without helping us problem-solve."
"Sure she can," Justine interrupted. No daughter needed sex advice from her mother. Seriously. There was just something morally wrong with that. "It's okay. Really."
Iris gave Justine a quick hug. "Make me proud, my dear, so I can brag to all the other parents in my neighborhood. I understand the need for sex, but Derek is simply too dangerous. Kill him instead. It's the least you could do for your own mama, so I don't have to spend eternity feeling guilty because I wasn't a good enough mom to keep my daughter out of the Chamber of Unspeakable Horrors." She leveled a finger at Theresa. "And you get some therapy."
And then she shimmered out of sight.
Theresa whistled. "She's quite spectacular at the guilt thing."
"No kidding." Justine picked up the abandoned bottle of tequila. "I feel like I should go sit in the corner for twenty minutes and think about my behavior." She stared moodily at the alcohol and wished she could drown her sorrows in it. Too bad the Oath banned all substances that could impair reaction time (page seventy-three of the Treatise). "I'm completely traumatized by all that sex talk from my mom. I don't think I'll ever recover."
"I'll distract you. How'd your date go?"
"He admitted he was there to kill me and steal Mona, then we almost had sex, but then there was the whole fireball incident with Satan's Rivka." She sighed. "Sort of killed the mood."
"Yeah, I can see how that would be a buzzkill." Theresa clucked with empathy, and Justine felt a little better.
"Then I learned that someone else also knows about Mona, so we have more than one enemy. Plus the Rivka works for Derek and is all cozy with him. She wants him to go ahead and kill me because she can't bear for him to die."
Theresa pulled three frozen pizzas out of the freezer. "Why does he have to kill you? It's not just about his quest for immortality and world domination?"
"Some curse that apparently requires my death in order to break it. What kind of jerk would write me into a curse like that?" Justine grabbed a fourth pizza for herself and turned on the oven.
"A jerk with a personal vendetta against you."
"Me? What did I ever to do anyone?"
"Well, you've killed a few people."
"All in the name of duty. How could anyone take that personally? Derek doesn't take it personally."
Theresa cocked her head. "You should have killed him. Bad decision, girlfriend."
"I know. I guess I'll do it tomorrow." Justine swung the bottle from her fingertips, watching it sway back and forth. "He owns Vic's Pretzels, by the way."
Theresa sat up so quickly that the stainless-steel chair cracked. "You're kidding."
"Nope."
"Well, good lord, girl! We have to find a way to save him!" Theresa ran out of the room and was back with her computer in less than five seconds. "Tell me everything that happened. You can't kill him. He's my reason for living!"
Justine felt a surge of hope. "Mom says there's no loophole."
"There's always a loophole if you're willing to be creative enough. Talk to me, sister. We must protect the pretzels!"
Chapter Twenty
"You've finally lost your mind." Quincy shoved his keyboard away from him and leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed.
"No, I've finally found it." Derek perched on the edge of the chair across from his brother's desk. "I know it sounds crazy, but I saw all this stuff actually happen. I swear it." He'd spent the last half hour catching Quincy up on his dragon sighting, the revelation of Becca's other boss and his method of communication, not to mention fireballs, Guardians, and doormen with some sort of magic voice control. Quincy had been skeptical at the start, but he'd been leaning in by the end.
He'd opted not to mention how much he liked kissing the Guardian, or how close he'd come to taking her home for the evening, or how he'd been unable to stop thinking about her since they'd parted.
Quincy picked up a pen and drummed it on his desk. "You want me to believe that Becca is a disciple of Satan?"
"Rivka. She's bound to him by his life force." Derek had already explained it twice, but he didn't blame Quincy for wanting clarification.
"And she shoots fireballs?"
"Yep. And Justine is the Guardian. We've already been through this. I need your help, Quin. I'm hoping you'll be able to see some pattern that will help us identify who originally wrote the Curse, since it wasn't Justine." He leaned forward. "We need one of your brilliant equations. That's all. You don't have to kill anyone. Just do what you like best."
"Sorry, Derek, but my answer is still the same as the last time you asked me: No. You need psychological help, not encouragement." Quincy punched the intercom on his phone. "Wendy. I'll take that number now."
Damn his brother and his close-mindedness. "What number?"
The door opened and Wendy sashayed into the room. Or rather, someone who looked vaguely like Wendy. This Wendy was wearing a fitted black top that showed off curves that Derek was pretty sure hadn't been there last time he'd seen her, an extremely short crimson skirt, fishnet stockings, and silver platform heels. Her smoky eye makeup made her look like she was born for sin, and her hair was streaked with gold and pink, s
wept up into a tight bun that didn't have even a single hair out of alignment.
Damn.
The woman meant business. She'd upped her game ten-fold since the last time he'd seen her, and she'd already been playing out of her old league then.
Even Quincy seemed to notice, if the way he was gaping at her swaying hips was any indication. "Thanks, Wendy."
"Anything for you, Quin," she purred.
Quin? Since when did she call him Quin? He studied his brother as Quin's gaze tracked Wendy's every movement. Damn. His brother was all in on the new Wendy. All the more reason to break the Curse, if Quin had finally found a woman.
She handed Derek a piece of paper. "At your brother's request, I did a little investigating. This is the name of a psychiatrist who specializes in people who have trouble separating fantasy from reality."
Derek crunched the paper in his hand and scowled at Quin. "Are you serious?"
Quin nodded. "Wendy did the research. This doctor is the best in his field."
"You didn't tell her everything, did you?" He clenched his fist tighter as he thought of Justine and her gun, and how ready she'd been to shoot Becca. "It's a really bad idea for Wendy to know too much."
"Don't worry. She's sworn to secrecy." Quincy gave his admin a wink, and she shot him a sultry look, then sauntered around the desk and leaned next to him. Quincy slipped his hand around her waist, then hauled her onto his lap.
And then they were going at it. Hands roaming, lips smacking, little moaning noises coming from Wendy.
Whoa. Derek looked away, momentarily startled by the display. After years of being too buried in his work to notice there was actually another gender on the planet, Quin chose now to get involved with a woman? Four days before they both died?
A low moan from Wendy drew his attention back to them. The pair was going at it, apparently oblivious to the fact that Derek was still in the room.
Aggravation ripped through Derek, and he slammed his palm down on the table. "Quincy, this is really important."
Quincy broke the kiss and peered over Wendy's shoulder, even as his hands caressed her lower back. "I know it's important. Call this doc before you lose your mind. The line between sanity and insanity can be so tenuous." He rubbed Wendy's butt and shot her a look that promised things Derek didn't realize Quincy even thought about.
What the hell? It was one thing for Wendy to go off the charts, but his own brother? This wasn't the Quincy he'd known his whole life. "You feeling all right, bro?"
His brother gave him a very masculine look. "What do you think?"
"Well, I mean—" How did he answer that?
Wendy twisted around. "Call the doctor, Derek."
This was going nowhere. "No." Derek stood and tossed the wadded-up card on the desk. "You're too buried in denial to realize the truth, Quincy. Forget I asked. I'll figure it out on my own. And remember, if you die, Wendy will be left behind to mourn you."
"Can't think of a better way to go." Quincy returned to the make-out session, nearly laying Wendy out on the desk with the force of his kiss.
"Spoken like a true non-believer."
When Quincy's only response was to slide his hand up the back of Wendy's shirt, Derek turned and stalked out of the office. Maybe he ought to give Becca a call. Have her blow up Quincy's desk with a fireball or two. That would get Quincy's attention.
Or it might have. Now? Quin might not take his mouth off Wendy long enough to notice even if his office was burning down around him.
"Derek!"
He glanced over his shoulder to find Wendy running down the hall toward him. Her shirt was half off her shoulder and her hair looked like Quin had been running a bulldozer through it. "I'm not taking the card, Wendy." He didn't even bother to slow down. "I have work to do."
"No, not that." She reached him and lowered her voice. "I just wanted you to know that I believe you."
"What?" He stopped so quickly that she almost ran into him.
"I believe you." She clutched his sleeve and gazed up at him, her eyes wide with apparent honesty. "I want to help."
He narrowed his eyes and uncurled her fingers from his arm. "Why? Hasn't Quin told you that no one ever believes me?"
"Yes, he did." Her cheeks turned pink. "But I love your brother, and if there's any chance he's going to die from a Curse, I want it stopped. I want kids and picket fences and a cute little house with him, and I'll do whatever it takes to save him." She reached for Derek again, voice trembling with emotion. "Don't resent him. He's so buried in math, in logic, that he can't comprehend things which can't be explained with equations. He loves you, and that's why he's worried about you. The fact he can't accept what you're saying is simply because of how he's hard-wired. But I believe you, and I won't lose him." She pressed a paper in his hand. "Here's my cell phone. Call me at any time. I can help you. I know people."
He folded his fingers around the paper, even as he studied her. "What people?"
"You don't think you're the only one to run into problems with the supernatural, do you?" She jumped when Quincy stuck his head out of his office and called her. "I have to go. Call me. I'll help you however I can." She then rushed back to Quincy, who set his hand on her elbow in a possessively male way.
Damn.
Who else knew about this magic stuff? He felt like he was stepping into a new existence, a world he'd been living in, even though he hadn't known anything about it. He watched a couple students hurry past. Did they know about dragons and Rivkas? Who knew? Who didn't?
Suddenly, he felt much more alone…and much less alone at the same time.
And most important, he felt pretty damn certain he wasn't insane, and that was fantastic to finally be sure of that. So yeah, big win today, right?
He looked down at Wendy's card, but it was just an ordinary business card from the university. It didn't say she worked for Satan, or was secretly a unicorn or a wizard. Just an admin for the math department.
But was that all she was?
After Becca, he wasn't so sure what to believe.
He tucked Wendy's card in his wallet, just in case. He had no intentions of making her a target of either Justine or Becca, but he was learning that it might be tough to predict what he might need in the future.
But for now? If Justine found out Wendy knew about the goblet, she'd kill her. Call him old-fashioned, but there was only one woman whose death he was willing to cause.
But even as he thought it, he knew that things had changed.
Could he kill Justine to save his brother?
It was a choice he didn't want to have to make anymore.
By ten o'clock the next morning, it was only bad news.
Justine and Theresa hadn't found a loophole that Justine could use to get out of her Oath obligation to kill Derek for knowing too much. And as for sex? No chance.
And, on top of all that, she hadn’t heard from him since they'd left the restaurant. Was he blowing her off? Yes, of course, they weren't dating or anything, but he'd said he'd call, and she was feeling bummed out that he hadn't.
She'd had fun last night, at least until the fire-balling Rivka had shown up. She'd enjoyed sparring with Derek. She'd loved dancing with him. And kissing him had been amazing. She wanted more of him, and she wanted him to want more of her.
But he hadn't so much as texted, which meant she couldn't kiss him, and, even more significantly, she couldn't find him to kill him. The fact that he was still alive even though he knew so much about Mona was really bad. There was no legit reason for her not to have killed him yet. At any minute, she could be called for an Oath Violation, and then she and her mom were both in big trouble.
She wanted to kiss him. She needed to kill him.
God, her head hurt.
"If he doesn't call soon, I'm going to have to go track him down and kill him." She shut the Treatise and dropped it on the coffee table, then flopped back against the couch.
Theresa didn't even look away from her computer sc
reen as she scooped up the book with her left claw and tossed it back in Justine's lap. "He's the pretzel king. He's like a saint. You'll be damned forever if you kill him. We'll come up with something..." She clicked her mouse, then sucked in her breath. "No way."
Justine sat up quickly. "What? Did you find a loophole?"
"Just got an email from Zeke. He said the golden aura is a sign of being possessed."
"Hah! I knew there was something weird about the surfer." Justine scooted next to the dragon and tried to lean over the two tons of flesh and scales to read the screen. "So, who was our surfer possessed by?"
Theresa scooted to the left and angled the screen slightly toward Justine, pulling her tail to the other side so Justine could get close enough to see the screen. "Someone from the Afterlife. He's not sure who."
"Afterlife, huh?" She scanned Zeke's email, but there was no additional information. "Well, gold would imply someone affiliated with heaven, right?" She pulled back, careful not to snag her sweater on Theresa's scales. "But why would someone in heaven want to kill me and steal Mona? I'd think that murder and theft aren't really in alignment with heaven's ethical standards."
"Who knows what heaven is really about?" Theresa rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe it's the manufactured Qualifying Incident. Maybe the surfer was a test, and you let him go, so now they think you're getting soft. They realized Satan's Rivka is sniffing around, and they're worried you won't be able to resist a full assault by Satan. Maybe they want to eliminate you and bring in someone more ruthless. Like a dragon, for example."
"Maybe." But still, taking out the surfer felt wrong. "So they think that killing an innocent because he was momentarily possessed would show I'm tough enough to be a Guardian?" She kicked a pillow out of her way and stood up, pacing the length of the room. "That makes no sense. Nothing makes sense."
Theresa settled back on the couch and folded her claws across her belly. "Maybe you're supposed to be smart enough to figure it out. You always say that being a Guardian is about more than physical strength."
Darkness Awakened Page 50
