A margarita wouldn’t cut it.
“I’ll tell you on the way home.” He nudged her toward the car. “I gotta talk with Reese first. You should come, too. It’s too important to keep this hidden from him.”
“You promised—”
“Pop pardoned my parole if I help Sis with her case.”
She grabbed his hands. “What? Like … no more parole officer? No more twelve-step meetings kind of free?”
He nodded in disbelief.
Freedom never tasted so bittersweet.
“Well, I suppose we’ll get my present tomorrow.” Her passive-aggressive tone faded when they reached her vehicle. “I’ll stay at your place tonight. Papa won’t mind. Let me call him while you drive home.”
Lim squeezed her hand. “No. Just beat Sis home. I wanna tell Reese myself and make his jaw drop at my awesome news.”
She winked and blew him a kiss. Then she chatted a mile a minute with her father on the phone.[ Fixed. They got to the car.]
He listened to her conversation, keeping his doubts about the situation to himself while he opened the car door for her. Pops gave him a pardon after the judge denied him twice. He gave nothing away for free. So, why give this to him now?
Lim swallowed down his fears, but he kept a cheerful demeanor when she hung up the phone. He’d think about it later.
Right now, he’d enjoy his newfound freedom while it lasted.
By the time they arrived home, Lim fought off his perceived adrenaline rush.
The rush turned into another unsatisfied need when Cel rubbed his thigh. Her touches trailed lower and lower until he swatted her hand away. Still, it kept the demoness from whispering her sweet promises of drug-induced highs in his mind. The images she spun almost convinced him to forget about Cel’s ministrations.
By the time his veins stung with the imagined drug, he whimpered.
“We’re home, Limmy.” She dispelled the illusion when she squeezed his hand. “We’re home, Limmy. Take your medicine before we go inside.”
Right. His meds.
They would’ve helped him fifteen minutes ago.
“I’ll be okay.” He held onto the passenger’s side door while he exited the Escape. “It’s not unbearable yet.”
The demoness’s sultry laugh reverberated through his skull.
His headache would turn into a migraine soon enough.
“Goddammit.” He took a hit off his boxmod, but it had no effect. “I need something stronger. This shit won’t work. Reach into my back pocket for my joints, hon.”
Her full lips turned pouty. “Right now? Seriously?”
He tapped his temple. “She’s misbehaving again.”
She grabbed his silver box from his back pocket and wrapped his hand around it. “Light it yourself while I unlock the front door. If demon lady visits, I’ll kick her ass.”
Lim pulled at his salvation: sweet Mary Jane and his trusty Zippo lighter. “Thanks.”
“Aw, crap.” She pointed toward Maurice’s incoming Geo Metro as it pulled into the parking lot. “Your brother’s home. Use the vape until we’re alone, sweetie.”
Son of a bitch. He almost lit up, too. Lim needed a stronger drug to deal with the demoness’s vile whispers or sinister illusions.
Before Maurice parked, he slid the box back into his pocket.
Cel gave him a thumbs up and headed over to the apartment.
As he predicted, Maurice parked next to them. He rolled down his window, then handed Lim a Snickers bar. A few seconds later, he handed him a Pespi, too. “Thank me later. Your woman called and said you needed somethin’ to take the edge off.”
When? He was right next to Cel the entire car ride. He never heard her make another phone call. Had he zoned out? Probably.
Whatever. He couldn’t change what happened.
He’d take whatever support he could get.
“Thanks, Reese.” He grabbed them and unwrapped the Snickers bar. “It’s been a rough night. Wait until we tell you what happened at the Tethered Mistress.”
Reese—Maurice—whatever people wanted to call him—raised a bushy eyebrow at his excited statement. “I thought you took her out on a real date. You know, somewhere nice. You made dinner reservations, right?”
“I did.” He bit into a mouthful of chocolate and salted nuts. “But Sis called. She needed me at her meeting. Anyway, I’ll show you what happened once we’re inside.”
His brother stepped out of his vehicle, then side eyed Cel. “This better be good.”
“It is.” She waved them both toward the front door. “Come on. It’s unlocked.”
They followed her lead.
Lim never got over how classy their small three-bedroom apartment became once Maurice decorated the place. Some of his suggestions … well … they were a bit high class for Lim’s taste, but they had nice cookware and furniture, so he couldn’t complain. If it weren’t for him, they’d still use their cheap plastic storage bins for makeshift tables and dressers.
Of course, he wouldn’t have picked animal patterns or Bengal tigers roaming around the forest for throw rugs. However, Maurice wanted to remember one good thing about his older brother. If he wanted awesome throw rugs, then he wouldn’t stop his brother from spending his hard-earned money on floor decorations. However, he had one legitimate gripe—the couches.
Lim hated how it felt against his skin.
For once, he wished Maurice hadn’t picked out leather furniture. Everyone around him loved the material. Sis, Reese, Cel—mostly anyone with decent taste loved it—but he got bored with the material, too. It never jived with his fashion sense. Most rebels lived in leather. Not him. He preferred his cotton athletic cutoff shirts, decent denim jeans, and a nice cushioned couch for his ass whenever he sat down.
Asses shouldn’t squeak whenever he changed positions on the couch.
“So, Cel.” Maurice sat on the three-seater couch. “You don’t sound upset baby girl asked you to leave your birthday party.”
“Truthfully, I was.” She closed the door behind Lim. “I complained all the way there until Limmy calmed me down. But he got an even better birthday present once we spoke with the cop, so I won’t complain too much.”
“Fed.” Lim fought off a yawn. “He’s a fed, hon.” He sat down next to Maurice. “And Pop and I always fight. He never respected me because I’m not his kid.”
“Now, now.” Maurice took a swig of his Sprite. “Let’s not forget the obvious reason he hates you. You know—the reason you’re under constant surveillance from your parole officer.”
“Yeah, well … about that.” Lim pulled Roland’s envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Maurice. “Check this out.”
Maurice furrowed his eyebrows together, then unfolded the paper. “Huh.”
“I know.” Lim leaned back and put his feet on the table. “I think there’s an alternative motive.”
“Yeah. Your father never gives you anythin’. If he’ll give anyone somethin’, it’s Aviere. Even then, it’s just unneeded aggravation. So, why hand this over now?”
“Because she’s being stupid.” How else could Lim word this without insulting anyone? “She’s investigating my old drug cartel on a case. She asked me about it last week.”
His younger brother drank more Sprite, but he waved his hand. “Go on.”
“Pop’s worried. She walked out on him when he asked her for a favor. You know how Sis is. So, he asked me to help her because her employer is a bastard.”
“You said she called you.”
“Yep. She did.”
“Why?”
Lim put a hand over his face.
He’d have to spell this out for him.
“Because he showed up with Armandi. I’m sure Pop wanted to keep this hush hush, but she couldn’t keep this secret from me. When I asked her for more details, she said I had to meet him and make this decision on my own. Then she left.”
“So, where is she?”
“How should I k
now?” He took a generous swig of Pepsi[ Reese is drinking the Sprite right?]. “Sis peeled wheels when we arrived. She was with Mr. Magical detective turned fed. He didn’t seem too happy about the situation, either. In fact, he looked green when Sis sped out of the parking lot.”
Maurice snickered. “It’ll be her fault if he pukes on her leather seats.”
“The point is my old cartel is out there and they’ve moved into South Baltimore against Armandi’s wishes. Guess what that means for us?” Lim pointed to Cel. “Do you still have that baggie of drugs I found?”
She slipped next to him on the couch and her face soured. “Yeah. You’re not getting it, though.”
“Of course not.” Lim’s voice seeped with agitation. “Show Reese.”
She dropped it on the table.
“We found this outside his bar when the paramedics arrived. We didn’t go inside, but someone died in there. Between the hysterical people, Sis’s reaction, and Roland’s arrival, it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure what happened inside.”
Maurice sat his drink on the table. “Yeah. But she’ll—”
“Sis can think what she wants.” Lim turned defensive. “You know I wouldn’t screw this up. Not now. So, we have to figure out how to handle them before they break up our family or I’m incarcerated again. Whichever comes first.”
The younger man pointed a light-colored finger at Lim. “Then what’s with you carryin’ joints in your back pocket again?”
“They’re different.”
“They’re still drugs.”
Lim frowned. “I’m not dealing to people. You know that. Hell, ask her. She had to stop me earlier when I found the baggie.”
Disappointment came in waves in Maurice’s voice. “So, you thought about it.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Lim muttered under his breath before straightening himself on the couch. “People have homicidal tendencies whenever someone pisses them off, but they don’t act on them. It’s the same idea.”
“But—”
Yep. Time for Mary Jane.
Screw his brother’s disappointment.
He pulled out his silver box and lit his damn joint. He’d have to come to terms with Lim’s demoness sometime. If not today, then before he died.
Lim knew he lived on borrowed time.
He had to prepare someone in his family for the inevitable.
“Let me tell you a secret, Reese.” He smoked and the musky, earthy undertones kept the demoness’s whispers at bay. “There’s a reason I crave another fix. They’re reasons you and Sis couldn’t understand. It all started with a mistake and it wasn’t drugs. It all started with magic.”
Maurice leaned back. “The day you changed.”
Lim nodded, taking another puff. “Trust me, I would’ve stayed a shifter. I had no idea what I signed up for. Not then.”
He slipped his hand into Cel’s.
“I’ve hurt people.” Those closest to him, for example. “I’ve lied. Cheated. Stolen. Betrayed Sis in the worst possible way multiple times over. And then there’s you. I’ve never been forgiven for the atrocities I’ve committed towards you.”
His brother’s eyes narrowed. “You’re still—”
“If I told you why, you might understand.” Lim’s voice lowered a pitch. “It’s a farfetched story to a shifter. But war’s coming. The cartel is just the straw that broke the camel’s back. The real enemies are the factions. Y’know—the ones running the mage, human, and shifter organizations.”
Maurice drank more of his soda. “And?”
The mage leaned closer to Maurice. “Sanderson. He’s part of it. He’s using Sis for her blood.”
“Everyone uses her. Even us.”
Power flowed through Lim at his excitement. “What if I told you I have a secret weapon? One that might free her once she accepts her destiny?”
“I’d say you’re trippin’ again, bro.”
“He’s serious.” Her voice stayed quiet as she rubbed Lim’s hand. “He can’t tell you everything because of the bloody demon inside of him, but—”
Pain exploded inside his head.
This differed from his vile temptress’s harsh whispers. His body shook as a thousand knives stabbed behind his eyes, his temple, and his brain. At one point, blood leaked underneath his right eye and ran down his cheek. Then a sickening pop came from his left ear.
Someone took his joint.
Another person yelled.
Their their voice came out muffled.
Lim pitched forward and curled up in the fetal position. The visions came next. First, she mutilated his little sister. Then she possessed his loved ones. Each possession twisted and turned them into her helpless puppets like him.
No. He accepted magic—and the demoness—to help his family, not hinder them.
Lim pushed her back.
The pain intensified in his injured ear.
He pressed his ear against the floor and whimpered while the pain paralyzed him. Hot tears flowed down his cheeks.
Someone’s strong hands—Maurice’s—pulled him upright. Something pressed firmly against his ear. He talked, but his low voice came out garbled. However, Cel’s voice came through a bit clearer despite her hushed whisper.
“Sosténgase encendido, mi amor.” Her whisper turned warbled. “I forgot we couldn’t mention the demon lady around anyone else.”
Lim made out his brother’s voice this time. “What nonsense are you spewin’ this time, Cel?”
“It’s true.” Her hand raked through his hair. “The first time Limmy introduced me to her, she cursed me with visions. The next time he tried, he gave me the scar underneath my eye.”
“Well, no wonder he turned to drugs.” Maurice repositioned his head so the blood could drip onto the paper towel pressed against his ear. “Still, I have one question. Why use such an unholy power if it’s so finicky? There’s too many risks.”
“Because.” Lim’s words came out thick. “This demoness is a part of Sis. It’s considered a magical parasite. I stole it from someone to learn its secrets so we could monitor her medical condition better.”
“But your mama—”
“Mom and I didn’t agree about Aviere’s treatment.”
Silence—near deafening silence—lingered between them.
No, he definitely didn’t agree with his mother when it came to his sister’s medical problems. Her solution was to hide her away from everyone, including herself, whenever she became depressed. Even her. Of course, his father argued with Mom about that, too.
Everyone close to them did.
Lim understood their point. They wanted Sis to protect herself from any whacko-jackos who wanted her previous blood. Despite their pleas, their mother continued to hide her condition from the world. He blamed Roland. Mom almost sold her soul to get her precious soulmate back.
As a result, Sis’s secret stayed buried.
Until now.
“I blame Mom for this.” He leaned against Maurice. “She made Sis helpless. If she’s going to fight Sanderson, she—no, we—have to understand who and what she is. I made a deal with the devil to learn about her secret. Her parasitic blood. However, I’m almost out of time.”
Maurice removed the paper towel and threw it into a trash can. “Then why risk tellin’ me?”
“Because I trust you.” Lim crawled back to the couch, then used it to keep himself upright on the floor. “You’re my brother. You’re the one who’ll protect Sis when I’m gone.”
“What if we can reverse it?”
Someone’s keys jingled inside the doorknob.
He dragged his hand across his throat at Maurice. Then he put his finger across his lips when both of them almost spoke.
Cel helped him lie down on the couch, covered him with a blanket, and went into the kitchen.
His sister came through the door.
“I didn’t think you two would be home.” Aviere dropped her purse on the table. “It’s been a long day. Those guys try m
y patience. Agent Neuro has to be right about everything.”
Well, hallelujah. Either Sis’s nose malfunctioned—which sometimes happened—or her father rattled her nerves still. This wasn’t her normal bitchy come home from work routine.
Whatever. He wouldn’t complain.
She’d worry herself sick once she found out about his secret.
“Thanks for talking with Da, Lim. I couldn’t make that decision for you.”
He gave a half-hearted wave. “No problem. Settle your own battles next time, though.”
“He pissed me off.” She picked up his discarded silver box on the table. “What is this?”
“Oh, you know.” He played off his injury, pitched forward, and rested his hands on his knees. “My usual guilty pleasure. I’ve had a shitty night, too.”
Aviere marched up to him. “Put your joints away. We have…” She paused, twitching her nose while she sniffed near his face.
Lim snatched his box back. “Yeah, yeah. I know. We’ve got work to do.”
“You got injured.”
“Cel tried cleaning my ears.” He cupped his ear. “She pressed the Q-Tip too far and it caused my ear to bleed. That’s the last time I let her use those while she’s high.”
Aviere’s nose twitched. “Right.”
“Look, it’s not bad. I’ll be okay in a few minutes.”
“Are you sure you’re not lying to me?” She pointed to the table. “Because this shouldn’t be on our coffee table.”
“Chill, pussycat.” Cel’s icy tone carried from the kitchen doorway. “That’s the stuff Chelsea sold outside of your precious Tethered Mistress. Oh, before we go any further, I have an odd question for you.”
Aviere lowered her glasses. “Go on.”
“Why is your partner asking Karyn about my brother’s death?” A glass cracked from the doorway. “I got a phone call about it before my birthday party.”
What? This was news to him. She said nothing about this not the way home.
“Because he’s a moron.” Sis’s voice dipped into her usual snarky attitude where everyone else was lower than her. “They acted on their own. I’m not responsible for their actions when I’m not around them. Now, how was your birthday?”
His girlfriend’s eye twitched. “It would’ve been better if you hadn’t ruined it.”
Belladonna's Curse Page 8
