Lust and Other Drugs

by TJ Nichols

  “Busy?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m going to get a drink. Will Pete be joining us?”

  Mason nodded. “He’s got quite the beard now.”

  “He’ll be happy with that.” Pete had been trying to grow one for several years.

  Jordan went to the bar and ordered a beer. There was absinthe behind the bar, like there had been in the den, and he’d never had it before. On a whim he ordered a shot. The bartender poured it over a sugar cube on a slotted teaspoon and set fire to it. Then he directed Jordan to down it in one swallow.

  He wasn’t even sure he liked it, and he probably shouldn’t do too many of them. Perhaps they got better with repetition—most drinks did. Maybe he’d have another later when he’d washed the taste away with beer.

  With his beer in hand, he made his way back to the table. There were five of them now, and they were talking about Atlantis and how it had closed to tourists after several attempts to steal artifacts. Mermen were now sinking ships that came within one mile of shore.

  “It’s a bit rude to do that, don’t you think?”

  “It’s a bit rude to try and steal from them.” Jordan sipped his beer. His stomach was still warm from the shot, and the heat was spreading lower.

  “But what about the tourists? People have booked, and now they can’t go.”

  Why were they all looking at him? He shrugged. “Being open for tourism isn’t compulsory.”

  “I don’t understand why the mythos don’t move there, or Lemuria.”

  “Because it’s not their home?”

  “But they’d be safe there. I heard about that murder. Was it drugs?”

  Jordan shook his head. “You know I can’t discuss.” And he wanted to get off the mytho topic. “How’s your work going?”

  Pete customized cars with beautiful art. He also painted murals and things. Jordan could draw a convincing stick figure on a good day. “Building. There’s an elf who wants something on their shop wall to stop the graffiti. I’m not sure I’m going to take it, though.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” A commission was a commission, and Pete’s business was still small enough that every job mattered.

  “If people heard, I could lose business. A lot of people are still very anti-mytho.”

  Had his friends always been like this? Not quite anti-mytho, but not supportive either? “What do you think would’ve happened if it had been our world that collapsed into theirs?”

  They all laughed, but Jordan didn’t.

  Suddenly they realized he was serious.

  “I dunno,” Mason said. “We don’t know what their world was like. Maybe we’d have been eaten by dragons. Didn’t they eat someone last year?”

  “That was a fake story.”

  “Oh.” Mason picked at the label on his beer, and the conversation fell silent.

  Pete glanced at him. “Do you feel sorry for them or something?”

  Did he?

  “Do you think Lew is right? Won’t that give them more rights than us? This is our home.”

  “It’s theirs too.” Jordon downed his beer. He didn’t want to talk, and he needed another drink. At the bar he smiled at the bartender for a moment too long, but didn’t get a smile back. He was probably one of those no-femmes types. Fucker.

  He wasn’t going to hook up, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. What he wanted was the easy taste of Bliss and no one to judge or care. But he couldn’t go back to the den, because they were closed up tighter than his father’s wallet.

  He took out his phone and pulled up Edra’s number.

  Mason put an arm around him. “You’re sulky tonight. I’ll find you a pretty twink to fuck.”

  That wasn’t Jordan’s thing. He liked tall guys—smart men who didn’t take any bullshit, men like Edra. Maybe he was too fussy.

  Mason glanced at the screen. “Ahh. You’re seeing someone? What kind of a name is Edra?”

  “Nah….” It would never work. It wasn’t worth wasting time on.

  “You want to be seeing someone. I know that look.”

  Jordan put his phone away. “It’s complicated.”

  “He not into your style?”

  He was, or at least Jordan thought he was. “I don’t know.”

  “So you’re going to sulk all night because you don’t know.”

  “Something like that. I’ve had a shitty week, and next week isn’t looking promising.”

  “You need to get laid. Come on.” Mason took his hand.

  Jordan pulled free. “I need another drink.”

  Three, maybe five, shots later he needed to go home before he got messy.

  Unwilling to get on a train, he used the ride-share app and slithered into the back where he could pretend he wasn’t as loaded as he really was. The driver was an elf—it was easy to spot the ears, even though he’d styled his hair to try to cover them. The sharp cheekbones were also a giveaway.

  Jordan closed his eyes as the car zipped through traffic. Ten minutes later he was stumbling out and up the steps. Sinner gave him a glare and pushed in front when he opened the door to the building.

  His friends would still be out, and now that he was home, he didn’t want to be there.

  He pulled out his phone and checked the time. It was eleven. Too late to text.

  He fisted his hand. He was just another junkie. He needed Bliss. It wasn’t addictive, and he was just horny. Watching porn would have the same effect, but it wasn’t what he wanted. In the den there were people, even if they were lost to their own desires. Somehow that was more intimate than hooking up. He wiped what was left of the lipstick off his mouth with the back of his hand. Too many shots had stripped his willpower. On another night, he’d have ended up at the den, aching and needing something.

  It was weakness that made his fingers type. You up?

  Chapter 14

  EDRA’S PHONE buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it the first time because Leonaris was talking, or trying to talk, about his son. The second time it buzzed, he slipped it out to glance at the screen and hoped no one would notice how rude he was being.

  Yeah, he was up… but not for what Jordan wanted. But he needed to respond so Jordan didn’t think he was ignoring him.

  At the temple. He glanced at the people who’d gathered. There were a couple of humans. Come down.

  I wouldn’t be welcome.

  Edra looked around again. Jordan was trying. He was one of the few cops who did, and Edra didn’t think anyone would throw Jordan out. Wouldn’t have offered if you weren’t.

  I’ve been drinking.

  Edra smiled. He’d offered, and Jordan had declined. That’s all he could do. Also a good option after today.

  He put his phone back in his pocket and went to talk to Ardel. There was a good turnout tonight, and not just satyrs. Even the head of a rival clan had come to offer condolences, and that was pretty generous for a satyr. There had been clan warfare in the first year after the collapse, but the satyrs had quickly realized they couldn’t fight each other if they were going to survive. But that didn’t make them friends.

  This murder was making them want to rally and add teeth to their strings. Leonaris wore his with fierce pride tonight. They were a reminder that he’d been a warrior before he became a den owner, that satyrs weren’t just lovers.

  Ardel was doing an excellent job trying to convince them to let the police deal with the situation. If the satyrs started taking human teeth, any hope the mythos had of integrating would be gone.

  Candles lit the temple edges, and a fire burned in the center, but the night was still cool, and a sea breeze cut through the open temple. People clustered around the fire for warmth and for support. It was one part vigil, one part community talks, and one part arranging help for the family—something they shouldn’t have to do.

  His phone buzzed again. He wanted to ignore it but couldn’t.

  On my way, Jordan’s message read.

  A knot formed in
Edra’s belly, even though Jordan should be there. It was the right thing, and it would prove to the mytho community that the cops were serious this time. Dr. Lew was there. If mythos could vote, they’d all be ticking the box next to her name.

  Edra spoke to a few more people and then stepped away from the temple to wait for Jordan. A few ogres lurked nearby, waiting to stop any trouble. After what had happened to Francis, they were annoyed too, but they wouldn’t fight. They’d just pay the satyrs to fight for them. If something didn’t change soon, there would be trouble, which would only see the mythos suffer more because they would be blamed and the humans who had stirred everything up would walk away.

  A strange car pulled up, and the ogres stood a little straighter, ready to act.

  Jordan got out of the car, and Edra relaxed. But he didn’t look like any version of the cop Edra had previously seen. His hair was different—swept back and held in place with magic and product. Gold glinted in his ears and his eyes were framed by long dark lashes. He walked over with more swagger than usual.

  How much had he drunk? Maybe this was a bad idea.

  “Hey.” At least Jordan’s words weren’t slurred. “It’s quite a gathering.”

  “Darian was well liked.” And would be missed by more than just his family.

  They walked across the grass and back onto temple land. Jordan slowed and then wiped his mouth. “I’m not dressed right for this.”

  “You’re dressed fine.” He glanced over. “No one will care what you’re wearing.”

  Jordan was almost unrecognizable. The scent of jasmine clung to him, and Edra wanted to lick him. He knew Jordan wouldn’t appreciate that sentiment, and it was inappropriate for the situation, but was this how Jordan dressed in his downtime, or just when he went out drinking?

  “There are a few people you should meet. Dr. Lew is here. My boss too.”

  Jordan stopped as though he’d hit a wall. “I can’t meet people looking like this.” He lifted his hand to his face.

  Edra caught Jordan’s hand before he could rub at the makeup. “You look fine.” He smiled. “Better than fine.”

  “You don’t get it. I didn’t think there’d be humans here.”

  Would the humans really judge Jordan on what he was wearing and not what he was doing?

  “I know that you’re here because you care. The rest….” He shrugged, but his gaze remained on Jordan. He’d been pretty before, but now? If he turned up at the den looking like this, it was no wonder they called him the Elf.

  He needed to let go of Jordan’s hand, and it took everything he had to release him as they made their way up the stairs. The swagger was gone from Jordan’s steps, but he kept his chin up as though daring someone to confront him.

  Leonaris came over, his face crushed with grief. He’d cut his beard and blunted his horns. “Do you have a name, human?”

  For an awful moment, Edra thought there would be trouble. The tension thickened between satyr and human. They’d only met in the den, but it was clear Leonaris knew Jordan.

  “Inspector Kells. I’m the investigator in charge of… of your son’s murder.”

  The people who were nearby stopped talking, and their gazes turned to Jordan.

  Vampires, ogres, elves, and a Strega were all watching the human cop and the grieving father. The silence spread through the temple as people stared. Edra really hoped this wasn’t a bad call.

  Leonaris nodded. “You know us. You knew my son. You are welcome.” He inclined his head.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Jordan said in what must have been a well-practiced tone.

  “Don’t be sorry. Find the killer,” Leonaris snarled. “You have a knight at your disposal. Let him do his job.”

  Edra winced. He really didn’t want Jordan to think he was stepping on police toes, but then the moment was over. Jordan had passed scrutiny, and no one else would challenge his right to be there.

  “Ardel’s over there. He runs this branch of Mytho Servo.” Maybe if Jordan could get to know more of them, it would help him understand what was going on.

  A frown passed over Jordan’s face, and the edge returned to his eyes. Edra was reminded that Jordan was not a tamed cop and he could still be dangerous. “What is it you do exactly?”

  Edra smiled innocently, sure they’d discussed it before. “Liaise between mythos and the cops.”

  “As a knight.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I’m not a knight anymore. But when I was… I was like a cop. I’d settle disputes, arrest thieves, the usual. You know how it is.”

  “I don’t know.” Jordan glanced around the temple. “I feel like I’ve walked into another world.”

  “Now you know how we feel,” he said dryly. “Ardel. I’d like you to meet Inspector Kells, the cop I’ve been working with at SID.”

  Ardel turned.

  To Jordan’s credit he didn’t flinch. Most humans did when they saw the gray pallor and wrinkled skin. Ardel put out his hand in the human-style greeting. Vampires had once kissed hands to smell a person’s skin and blood, but humans wouldn’t appreciate being recognized by their blood, and they didn’t like having the back of their hands kissed by mythos. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “You too.” Jordan’s voice was perfectly level.

  The woman Ardel had been talking too offered her hand. “Dr. Lew.”

  Jordan’s smile became a forced and fragile thing. He hesitated as though he didn’t know what to say, and a delicate blush that would’ve been appealing in almost any other situation crept over his cheeks.

  Edra had to say something. “Inspector Kells has been doing excellent work at the SID, dealing with mytho-related crimes.”

  “That’s a tough area. I know there’s resistance.” Her attention was back on Jordan. “You’re running this murder investigation?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jordan gave her a single nod.

  “Doctor will be fine. Hopefully it will be mayor soon.”

  That broke the tension, and all the mythos smiled and wished her luck, knowing that none of them could vote for her. Would Jordan?

  After Edra had finished taking Jordan around to meet the people he should get to know, they stood near a pillar, and Jordan ran his hand over his hair and shook his head. “I didn’t realize the gathering was so big. I should’ve gotten changed and looked more cop-like.”

  “I like the way you look.”

  “You don’t get it. Dr. Lew’s first impression of me is like this.” He indicated his makeup and then tipped his head back and rested it on the pillar, exposing his throat.

  Edra was sure that wasn’t a deliberate come-on, as it would have been if another lesser dragon had done it. He wanted to lick the hollow of Jordan’s throat and work his way lower. “You didn’t call me for this.”

  “No, but you’re right. Someone should be here. Is it an all-night thing?”

  “Until dawn. You missed most of the speeches about what a fine man Darian was. Pizzas have been ordered, and then there’ll be music.”

  Jordan stared at him. “What?”

  “A feast and remembrance and trying to stop the satyrs from calling for war.” Edra glanced at the people gathered in the temple. They were having heated discussions. When satyr clans were talking about joining forces, the situation was dire. “You have no idea how delicate the situation is right now.”

  “Who would they go to war with?” Jordan frowned, his full attention on Edra.

  “Put it this way, if they find the killer before you do, he’ll be drinking the rest of his meals and pissing out a hole.”

  “An eye for an eye.”

  “You stole that punishment from us too, though taking an eye was really just about making sure the person couldn’t do it again. One, because they were marked, and two because having only one eye messes with depth perception.”

  Jordan looked confused. “That punishment is from the Bible.”

  Edra leaned in so closely that he could have run his tongue along
the shell of Jordan’s ear. He didn’t, and he was very proud of himself for resisting. “And where do you think talking snakes and the Garden of Eden come from? Where did the gods live?”

  Jordan widened his eyes and parted his lips.

  “Now you know why the churches hate us. They probably killed their god in the collapse. That or he’s so ashamed of what they do in his name that he doesn’t want to make himself known to them.”

  Jordan put a hand on Edra’s chest. “I don’t think I’ve had enough to drink to even work that out.”

  As much as he liked the contact, Edra put a more respectable distance between them. There were too many people around who were already wondering what was going on.

  As promised, the pizza arrived, and the feasting began. Jordan stayed, but he left Edra’s side and spoke to other mythos to make himself known.

  When the sky lightened, the sharp edges had worn off the night. No one was happy, but the satyrs weren’t looking for blood. The weight of expectation was now on Jordan to find the killer.

  “Did you want to get coffee?”

  Jordan’s eyeliner was smudged, and he stifled a yawn. “Yeah.”

  They left the temple and walked to a nearby café where Edra ordered hot chocolate and Jordan got a flat white. They sat side by side in the morning sun to wait for their orders.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” Jordan sounded sincere. “I needed to see that.”

  “Now you know a bit more about my world.” Edra glanced at Jordan, but he was staring straight ahead, expression pinched.

  “If I don’t find the person, there’ll be blood.”

  “I’ll do my best to make sure there isn’t.” But Edra couldn’t deny it was a possibility.

  Jordan pressed his lips together. “But out of all the crimes that have gone unsolved… there have never been repercussions before. Why this one?”

  Edra wasn’t ready to share. There had been repercussions. They had just been hidden. He’d covered all tracks so nothing led back to the mythos. “Breaking point?”

  Jordon shot him a glare. “I’m not an idiot.” He ran his fingers through his wilted style. “Not usually anyway. I only get dressed up like this when I go out.”