Lust and Other Drugs

by TJ Nichols

  Several stepped back.

  One of them had supplied the drugs and broken mytho and human rules—not that the humans would ever know. They would deal with it the mytho way. If humans got involved, all mythos would be tarnished.

  He roared and then stepped closer. His nostrils flared, but it was his tongue that could taste the scent of fear and lies.

  He sniffed and tasted each satyr. After eighteen, his mouth tasted like goat and he was getting hungry. But the next one killed his appetite—Cassius. He paused and looked the satyr in the eyes. Cassius stared back, but dragons rarely blinked. It was hard to stare at a dragon and not reveal your truth.

  Cassius looked at his hooves as the other satyrs formed a circle around him. The mood shifted into a sharp taste as anxiety became rage. Edra shifted before they could attack Cassius. Punishment needed to be fair—not sudden.

  “Speak your defense,” Edra said. Once he’d have held a sword to Cassius’s heart. The effect would have been grander, even if he was naked.

  Cassius lifted his gaze. “Why should we follow their rules? We should not be shunned. Bliss harms none, so I saw no harm.”

  Edra growled. He wanted to snap and yell “Are you fucking kidding me?” but he didn’t. He deserved a reward for that—not that he’d get one. He drew in a breath. “And yet harm has been done. You betrayed the trust placed in you. As clan leader Leonaris will decide the punishment, and I will ensure it is carried out.”

  Please don’t let it be too weird. Satyrs were known for their creative punishments, and he had to carry it out without getting caught by the cops.

  Leonaris looked like someone had shot him in the heart with a barbed arrow. “I trusted you. Darian trusted you. I cannot give you the punishment of a murderer. But I can treat you like a thief. The money you made will be returned to the den. Your tail will be docked. And you will surrender a tooth. Then you will humble yourself to the rival clan and serve them for thirteen moons.”

  That was a pretty epic way to punish thievery. Usually it was one, not all. By forcing Cassius to serve the other clan, Leonaris was admitting that Cassius had, in effect, stolen from them too. The loss of a tooth not in battle was a ritual humiliation, but the tail docking was pretty much standard. Edra wanted to ease the punishment, but Leonaris had lost his son and was dealing with the man who’d help create the trouble.

  “I’ll make it done,” Edra said. If he’d had his sword, he’d have docked the tail there and then and been done with it. “Attend Mytho Servo tomorrow at dawn. If you fail, I will put out a reward for your hide.”

  Cassius swallowed. He must accept his punishment or death would follow. Some would choose death, but it would be awkward to explain the corpse of another satyr, and Cassius knew it.

  “You can’t kill me. You’re working with the cops.”

  Edra considered him for a moment. “A dragon ate you. The cops will not go near their nest.”

  That made the satyr blanch.

  “No Bliss is to get into human hands. If you think the ID is fake, do not serve them. We cannot allow another slip.” He turned and dressed, but he could hear Cassius’s grunts as the other satyrs each plucked a hair from his beard.

  The scent of burning hair followed. He’d be dead to them until the thirteen moons had passed. Edra felt sorry for Cassius losing his clan and his position. They were all scraping by. He probably thought that selling a little Bliss on the side was harmless… and it should’ve been.

  He needed to find out more about the dead woman, but he doubted he’d be able to see the body or read any of the reports, no matter how nicely he asked Jordan. He touched his belt, but there was no sword to sheath to mark the end of his duty.

  Edra nodded to Leonaris and let himself out of the den and into the cool evening.

  THE TEXT came when Edra was halfway home.

  Come around to talk. Pizza?

  He was very tempted to say no. He had nothing to add to the case, and he knew that Jordan would be fishing for more information. On the other hand, going home wasn’t that appealing. He’d have liked to hang out at the den and have drinks, but he’d better give that a week or two. While he’d been doing his job—both as a knight and a Mytho Servo officer—that didn’t mean he’d be given a warm welcome.

  If the cops had gotten hold of Cassius, the result would’ve been worse. The media—some parts of it anyway—would’ve painted mythos as drug-dealing killers. Bliss didn’t kill. For that reason alone he replied. Sounds good. Nothing vego.

  Wouldn’t dream of it. No pineapple either.

  That is where I make an exception. He liked pineapple, though he had learned that humans didn’t eat the outside, which was a waste.

  I don’t think we can be friends.

  Edra smiled, knowing Jordan wasn’t being serious, and that they were friends, even though they were on opposite sides at times.

  He changed trains and, instead of heading home, went to the Mission district. It was decidedly nicer than where he lived. While some parts of the city had been hit worse in the collapse, the Mission district wasn’t one of them. As a result it was very popular with humans who didn’t want to mix with mythos.

  San Francisco had fared better than LA. A massive earthquake caused by the collapse had buckled roads and damaged buildings, mytho buildings had sprung up like mushrooms, and there had been fighting. What happened in LA made San Francisco appear untouched. There had even been a few days when everyone expected things to go back to normal. The rub had started when it was clear that the mythos weren’t going anywhere, and that had horrified both humans and mythos. Then the riots started, mythos were rounded up by the military, and Edra fled for the hills with the dragons. No one came after them, and he made sure they didn’t draw attention to themselves. He’d protected the dragons as he was supposed to. He’d let the other mythos be jailed by the humans.

  He walked up the block to Jordan’s place, and as he did, he made sure he wasn’t being followed and that no one was watching the building. After the photo and write-up this morning, he shouldn’t even be there.

  When he got his hands on Howard…. If Howard were mytho, his tongue would be cut for lying—like a snake’s tongue—even though Howard lied with his fingers and his computer. Edra had no idea what the appropriate punishment was for that among humans, though he was sure he could think of something fitting if given the opportunity.

  He hit the buzzer. “Not the pizza guy.”

  “Come up anyway” was Jordan’s response. “Is Sinner there?”

  Edra could smell the cat but not see her. “No.”

  “She’ll arrive with the pizza.”

  And she would be equally as nice with pineapple and BBQ sauce, but he kept that to himself. Humans didn’t eat pets on pizza. What the purpose of a pet was, he didn’t know. When gods or kings kept pets, it was for sex or entertainment, and he was absolutely sure that was not why Jordan had a cat.

  He knocked, and Jordan opened the door. He was dressed in track pants and a T-shirt, and that seemed to be all. His hair was wet, and he smelled like jasmine. That must be his soap, or one of them anyway.

  “I went for a run to think.” Jordan shut the door.

  “Did it help?”

  “No. But it was still nice to be moving instead of in the office staring at reports. Beer?”

  “Yeah.”

  Edra accepted the cold brew and sat on the sofa, completely overdressed in his suit. He took a long drink and wished it was a shot of absinthe or even mead—beer was a shortcut to a hangover. He put the beer on the coffee table so he could take off his jacket and tie.

  Jordan watched him. “You’ve been working all day.”

  “Not every mytho calls the cops. They call me.” Well, Mytho Servo, and then Ardel would hand it to him or Carly to sort out. “Then I go and talk to them and try to convince them they should call you, if it’s bad enough. Vlash sends his thanks, by the way.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. The teens might get off.
” Jordan pulled something out of the cupboard, and Edra saw the glint of green. “It’s not a mytho brand. I don’t know where to buy that. But I thought you might like one?”

  A smile bloomed that he couldn’t have kept hidden even if he tried. “I’d love one… or two.”

  Jordan smiled and got out two shot glasses. He even had the spoon and the sugar. When he lit it, Edra stood, ready to claim his drink. He picked up one glass while it was still burning and downed the contents. Heat hit his belly and spread.

  Jordan stared at him, eyes wide. “I’m guessing you needed that.”

  “It’s been a long day.”

  “I don’t see them getting shorter until after the election.” His drink had stopped burning, so he downed his shot. “Did you want another?”

  It was only Monday. If he was starting the week like this, how was it going to end? “Better not. At least not until after dinner.”

  Jordan picked up his beer. “Wise. Very wise.”

  His hair fell over his eyes, and Edra was so tempted to brush it aside but looked away instead. “So… what do you know?”

  “The vic was a member of the pro-mytho group at San Francisco State University. They’ve been door-knocking for Dr. Lew over the past month.”

  “Which makes the vic a target for the anti-mytho mob.”

  “But doesn’t explain her death caused by Bliss.”

  “Unless someone wanted it to look like it was caused by satyrs.”

  “Then why not leave her body near the den, instead of by the temple, so close to where Darian was found?”

  That was a good point, but the buzzer sounded—the pizza had arrived.

  The cat followed Jordan in when he returned with the pizzas and put the boxes on the coffee table. “Unless you’d rather eat at the dinner table.”

  The cat hissed and stalked away.

  Edra eyed the boxes. There were only two pizzas. He could’ve eaten both and called it a snack. “Here’s fine.”

  Then Jordan sat next to him on the sofa. If Edra moved his leg an inch, they’d be touching. It was nothing, but it was everything. If he touched Jordan, would he flinch? And if he didn’t flinch, what would that mean?

  It would’ve been much simpler if they’d met and fucked and walked away, but he wasn’t interested in that. He wanted to know more, and the more he learned, the more he wanted. Like any dragon, he liked to hoard. In this case he was hoarding knowledge.

  Today there was no hint of lingerie or makeup, but Jordan wasn’t the same man who’d taken notes and sat on the cushions at Helena’s house in his suit either. This one was relaxed, as though they were familiar enough to sit close, drink beer, eat pizza, and talk murder. Friends.

  Edra had always thought it too dangerous to have human friends.

  For a few minutes, they ate in silence, and Edra did his best to eat like a human—taking small bites and chewing. He’d learned to change the way he ate around humans who expected him to be like them. His pizza had pineapple and three different meats, which was pretty much what he liked. Jordan had the same but with no pineapple.

  “If there is a pro-mytho group at San Francisco State, is there an anti-mytho group?”

  Jordan sipped his beer. “That’s what I’ve been doing all day. They don’t call themselves that. They’re Earth for Humans, but guess who’s a member?”

  There were just under one million people in San Francisco. But it must be someone he knew or had run across during the case. “Those idiots from the temple protest?”

  Jordan nodded. “And the son of the current mayor, Andrew Campbell.”

  Like all princes, the mayor’s son was pretty much untouchable unless he were caught with the knife in his hand and the body at his feet. And even then, if there was a servant nearby, he might still get away.

  “I need the satyrs to see if they recognize any of them.”

  “Cassius would be the one to ask.” If he wanted to talk after having his tail docked.

  “Yeah, Leonaris has had a hard week.”

  “We all have.” Edra finished his beer and ate the last piece of his pizza.

  Jordan pushed his pineapple-less pizza box toward him. “You can finish it if you’re still hungry.” But he was watching, looking closely. What was he expecting to see?

  “Thanks.”

  “I didn’t think to ask how much you eat.”

  “What are you suggesting?” He should’ve been polite and eaten a second dinner at home.

  “I don’t know, but you bought a whole pig head the other day.”

  “That was one meal. It takes energy to shift between forms.” Jordan was still watching him. “I’m not shifting for you.”

  He looked disappointed for half a second. “So how many pizzas do you usually eat?”

  “I usually make them because it’s cheaper. Four bases, one roast chicken, bacon, salami—I really like salami—two cans of pineapple.” Or a whole pineapple if they were available cheaply.

  “And you eat it all?”

  “Yes.” That was one reason why he couldn’t afford a nicer apartment. He ate too much, and most of it had to be meat. He folded a slice in half lengthways and ate it as he usually would—in one big swallow. Maybe Jordan would be disgusted and this friction would go away. Then they could just be colleagues.

  Jordan was still watching and not at all disgusted. His lips were parted in fascination. “You have no gag reflex.”

  “Nope.” He could see the thoughts running through Jordan’s head, and the slight lift in his track pants. Edra smirked. Then ate the other piece of pizza in the same manner.

  He’d think those thoughts later—alone.

  The apartment was quiet for a few moments as they both collected themselves. “Another beer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shot?”

  Edra wanted to say yes, but if he did, he would want more than sitting and talking, and he really did like talking to Jordan. He liked him. That was never going to end well. He should know better, but it had been a long time since he’d wanted to spend the time to get to know someone instead of taking the easy route.

  Jordan got the beers, and when he sat down, their legs touched and there was nothing accidental about it. “Is your Bliss safely stored? I wouldn’t want someone to take it.”

  Was Jordan wondering if he still had it? “Of course.”

  Jordan turned to face him, rested his arm on the back of the sofa, and folded his leg between them on the sofa. He sipped his beer and watched Edra. “Why aren’t you railing at me to stop using or asking why I haven’t reported it?”

  Edra turned and mimicked the pose so their knees were touching and one foot was on the floor. Jordan brushed his foot around Edra’s and hooked it around Edra’s ankle. For a moment it was too intimate. Edra hadn’t had anyone in his life in ten years. It hurt when people got ripped away, and Jordan was a fragile human—a cop with a hidden side.

  He was clearly no delicate flower in need of protecting, but that wasn’t what Edra liked anyway. He liked people who could stand up and get things done and who were more than happy to do the same in bed.

  They had danced around that subject.

  “You use with caution, and I think you have as much to lose if you were to report mythos selling to you.”

  “Mutually assured destruction.”

  Edra frowned, not sure what that meant.

  “We both go down.”

  Edra laughed.

  Jordan blushed. “I didn’t mean….” He took a drink of beer.

  Edra watched his lips on the neck of the bottle, the way his throat moved as he swallowed. He could barely breathe. “Are you hitting on me now?”

  “Maybe.” He brushed Edra’s leg with his fingers. “This isn’t a smart thing to do.”

  “You think? But that’s never stopped me in the past.”

  They watched each other for several heartbeats, and then Jordan broke the silence. “If you were human, I’d kiss you now.”

  �
�I don’t know you well enough for that.” But he was thinking about it. What would Jordan’s mouth taste like? Beer? Pizza? Something else? “It’s because my sense of taste and smell is better.”

  “Without kissing, I don’t know what to do next.” He settled his fingers on Edra’s thigh.

  If Jordan were another lesser dragon like his last partner, they’d fly. They’d hunt and spend time together to see if they were compatible living together. They’d eventually kiss, and when they had sex, it would seal the bond. “I don’t want this sex to mean nothing.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That I need another shot before I try to talk about this.”

  “Do you get hangovers?”

  “Yes. Gods yes. I’m already going to suffer tomorrow, so what’s one more?” Alcohol and dragons didn’t mix, but he liked beer, even though it didn’t like him, and he liked absinthe.

  Jordan got up and made two more shots. They weren’t flaming, when he brought them over, but he handed one to Edra and tapped his glass to Edra’s. “Bottoms up.”

  Edra grinned and downed the absinthe. He almost felt like he could breathe fire for a second. Then he put the glass on the coffee table. “So… lesser dragon mating rituals.”

  “Is that what this is?” Jordan sat, tangled his legs with Edra’s, and placed his hand on Edra’s upper thigh.

  “Well, it sure as Hel isn’t a quick fuck.”

  “True. That’s why you go to the den?”

  “Yeah. No connection.” He let his hand brush over Jordan’s. “Sex is just sex.”

  “And when it’s not just sex?”

  “Then it’s more. Lesser dragons who are looking for more, for a bond, spend time with that person, even sort of living together to make sure it all works.”

  “Before having sex or kissing?”

  “Kissing happens in there somewhere. It depends on compatibility. Sometimes it doesn’t work out. The taste is wrong or they can’t live together.”

  “So you don’t want to rush.”

  “I don’t know what I want. I’ve never been with a human. I don’t know. Some of you fuck first, some later. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know if it’s something that we should be doing.” But he was so tired of being alone. “You’re the first person to make me want to not lie down. That’s a compliment, by the way.”