by S T Branton
“So I’m sitting there watching this all happen, and the judge is threatening to hold us in contempt if we can’t get her to control herself, and my co-counsel is practically losing her mind. I thought I was going to have to slap her myself.”
I laughed, which my stitches did not like. “Did you?”
“I thought about it!” She grinned. “No, of course not. There are cameras all over the courthouses these days. My bosses would have known about it before we adjourned.”
“I guess that’s true.” I took a sip of my drink. “It’s great to see you, Jules. I’m sorry we keep falling in and out of touch. I’ll try to do better from now on.”
“You and me both.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hands. “It’s weird how life just sort of happens, isn’t it? One minute, you’re just starting college, and the next, you’re trying to be a functional adult in a seriously messed-up world. Things start to fall through the cracks.”
I chuckled. “You sound like me. We did have some really good times in college though, huh?”
“Yeah. Like the time you almost burned down the whole townhouse making pizza rolls in the oven.”
“What?” I grinned. “That wasn’t the townhouse. That was our first off-campus apartment. We had to pay from our security deposit for the scorch marks in the ceiling, remember?”
Her face lit up. “Oh, yeah! Then the townhouse had the broken toilet that we had to flush with a bucket for a week.”
“Yeah, and then it took another three days for us to be home at the right time so the service guy could actually fix it.” I tilted my head. “Usually, you’re the one reminding me of this stuff. I think you’ve been working too hard.”
“Yeah.” She took down her long blonde hair and shook it out over her shoulders. “But what else is new, right? Such is the life of a public defender. I can’t be emotionally fulfilled unless I’m being screamed at by four different people at the same time about unrelated things.” She leaned forward. “Speaking of emotional fulfillment, how’s Deacon? I kind of cut you off last time before you could tell me anything really juicy.”
“There’s nothing juicy to tell, Jules! I keep running into the guy every now and then. That’s it.”
“Uh huh. And would these run-ins happen to look an awful lot like something the rest of us might call a date?” A mischievous smile crept onto her face. “I get you, Vic, always downplaying your romantic situations. There’s no shame in seeing someone! Especially not someone as hot as Deacon.”
“I’m not seeing him,” I persisted, aware that I was starting to protest maybe too much. “We just happen to encounter each other sometimes.”
Jules giggled. “I think he’s going to be the one to break down the Great Wall of Victoria.” I opened my mouth, and she forged ahead. “Mark my words, Vic Stratton. Deacon’s going to melt the block of ice around your heart.”
I drained my beer. “Whatever. I’m going to get us another round.”
“If you say so.” Jules handed up her glass. “After this, what do you say we head back to my place? If I keep going out for my drinks, I’ll literally never be able to leave work.”
“Fair enough,” I said, acting like I wasn’t in an even more compromising financial position. I got our drinks and closed out the tab. Jules and I whiled away another hour in our cozy booth at Park’s. For once, just two friends having a normal night out. I didn’t even let myself feel all that paranoid.
“Come on.” Jules pushed her empty glass aside and shrugged on her coat. “I’ve got a ten-dollar box of wine with our names on it. You good for a little more?”
“Me? Who do you think you’re talking to, Miss Lightweight New York?” I was wearing a spare coat since mine was still drying in the loft. We’d managed to get the blood out after much fretting and forced patience.
“That’s the Vic I know and have held over the toilet many times before.” Jules looped her arm through mine. “Don’t worry. You can crash on my couch tonight, okay?”
That was where I found myself half an hour later, on Jules’s couch while she went to the kitchen for the wine. Her place was small but well-situated and stylish, the complete antithesis of my ramshackle loft.
“I’ll even bring us real glasses so we can pretend we’re sophisticated,” she called over the clinking of glassware.
“Who’s pretending?” I asked.
I heard the wine start to flow, and a minute later, Jules emerged with two glasses of dark red.
“Fancy.” I took the one she offered and had a sip. “Hey, not bad.”
“I went all out.” She plopped down next to me. “Thanks for coming over, Vic. I really needed a girls’ night like this. Just drinking on the couch, talking about whatever.”
“I did too.” I took another sip, leaning my head back. “I keep thinking sooner or later, everything will pass, and life will go back to normal, but I know that’s not true. It’s nice to take a time out once in a while. The world will still be there tomorrow.”
“Yeah. And so will the work.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” We weren’t talking about the same kind of work, but the sentiment was identical. She didn’t need to know that my latest ‘job’ had left me with a back full of bandages.
“Wanna watch a movie? A shitty rom-com?” She moved toward her TV. “We used to fall asleep to this stuff all the time.”
The wine glass was up to my lips when it hit me. Jules’s voice sort of faded out and back in. The room began to spin, and then it began to warp in a way that made me feel a little nauseated.
Are you all right, Victoria? I have been careful not to interfere during your time with Jules, but you are not looking well. Too much to drink?
I hadn’t felt drunk like this since the college days we’d been talking about. My whole body wanted to fall down the black hole of sleep, despite getting plenty of rest after my stitches. I blinked, suddenly struggling to hold my eyes open.
“Vic?” Jules came close again, inspecting me with concern in her face. “What’s wrong?”
I tried to answer her, but the words wouldn’t come out. She said my name again. It was the last thing I heard before I slipped down into darkness.
***
The first thing I noticed when I broke back into consciousness was the pounding in my head. The second was that I was prone, my hands shackled above my head by something cold. I gave my wrists a sluggish, experimental tug, and the rattle of chains intruded on my senses. The room was still blurred, but after a few blinks, things came back into focus.
“Jules?”
Her name left my throat in a croak. I could see her sitting on the other side of the room, tied up in a chair. She looked like hell. Red marks bloomed across her face. Her perfect makeup had been smeared, her hair a nest of tangles. What the fuck happened after I passed out?
She looked up at me and shook her head. A shadow fell over her, and she shrank back as far as she could in the chair. The man casting the shadow wore a perfectly pressed black suit. He was pale, but his presence wasn’t as powerful as either Delano or Lorcan.
“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” he said to me. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. You have some very valuable information I’d love to know.”
“Who are you?” I cleared my throat. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t bother playing dumb,” he said dismissively. “I know almost everything. The only piece I’m missing is what happened at your little rendezvous with Lorcan. That’s what you’re about to tell me.” He smiled. “Why would he call someone like you? What did he want? He must be planning something big, yes? So big he’ll even enlist humans to help with the prep work.” He had a pair of nasty-looking pliers in his hand, which he snipped idly as he spoke.
“Piss off,” I said.
“I had a feeling you’d say that. So, I brought her along.” He seized one of Jules’s hands and descended upon her pinky finger with the pliers, gripping it between the metal pincers. Ju
les squealed in fear and pain. He began to squeeze.
“Please, no,” Jules begged. “No! No!” Her voice rose in a mix of hysteria and agony. The guy might as well have torn out my heart.
“You’d be surprised how much a girl’s fingers do for her looks,” said the man. “Whether or not she has them all, I mean.” He looked down at Jules. “I think she could get by without one or two.”
“You shithead!” I fought my way into a sitting position, shackles clanking. “Fine. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know as long as you don’t hurt her.” The pliers moved away from Jules’s hand, but not far. I took a shaky breath. “Delano offered me the chance to parley with Lorcan. I accepted, and when I got there, he told me he wanted me to kill Mayor Inglewood. Said the mayor was ‘in his way.’ I said I wouldn’t. He got pissed and sent his wardogs after me. That’s it, okay? That’s everything.”
Jules stared at me with wide, frightened eyes. Her lip trembled. I thought she was going to cry.
Instead, she laughed.
Watching her face twist from sadness into joy was one of the strangest, most disturbing things I’d ever seen. I glanced between them, trying to work out what was happening. The man in the black suit took out a knife and cut off the ropes binding her to the chair.
“Jules?” I asked, unsure if I really wanted her to answer. Everything about this scenario felt extremely wrong. I hoped for a second I was dreaming. She threw her head back, blonde hair flying. Her body convulsed, eyes rolling back into her head. I strained against my restraints. “Jules!”
The lines of her figure blurred in a way that aggravated my headache. I squinted. Then she was different, by which I mean Jules was gone. Deacon sat in the chair now, looking at me with those dark, piercing eyes.
“What do you think of my party trick, Vic? It’s a real crowd pleaser.” My breath caught in my throat. His voice was the same soothing bass—almost. An unnatural undertone grated on my ear, so subtle that I might not have noticed it in anyone except Deacon. But I had that man’s dulcet tones etched into my eardrums.
This was an imposter. Some sort of shapeshifting demigod. And it was royally pissing me off.
“Cut the bullshit,” I growled. “I’m not here to play your stupid fucking games. Tell me who you are and what you want, and we can be done with it.”
Not-Deacon chuckled. “On the contrary. My games are exactly why you’re here.” He scratched his chiseled jaw. Deacon’s face blurred, and Jules emerged. “And playing them got me all I wanted out of you.”
“Kiss my ass,” I said, glowering.
“Don’t be bitter.” The shapeshifter smiled. I felt ill. “I’m not done with you yet. You may serve some greater purpose still. In the meantime, Rupert here will watch over you. He’s a good boy.” Jules’s face went out of focus. The next instant found me staring into my own eyes, lit by a baleful spark of cruelty. The thing laughed. “Now this…this I like. Yes, I could stay in your body all day. And perhaps sometime soon, I’ll get to do just that.” The shapeshifter ran its hand over his facsimile of my face. Even though I had no idea what it really was, I couldn’t get the image of it as a man out of my head. It creeped me out. “This time tomorrow, everything will have changed, and it’s all thanks to you, Vic. How surprised do you suppose Lorcan will be to see the hitwoman he failed to hire as she grovels before him and tells him she’s changed her mind?”
“What? Why would you do that?”
My own smile seemed monstrous on its face. “How else would I get a meeting with the great self-proclaimed Lord of Darkness!”
“So you work for Lorcan,” I said. “Or what, you’re some kind of twisted groupy?”
“No my dear. I’m the one who’s going to kill him.” Fire burned in the changeling’s eyes. “This city will be mine and mine alone. With the use of your body and your precious treasure.”
He reached out to the small table nearby and picked up the Gladius Solis. I flinched. He must have filched it while I was passed out. “Don’t,” I warned, but shackled to the wall it carried very little threat.
A second later, the blade roared into being. Its color was dulled, but there was still force behind it. I considered trying to call it to me, but I knew it was no use. The weapon was in his control now. I couldn’t help feeling a little bit betrayed. The changeling gazed at me, full of bare triumph. “Such a glorious weapon this is. I can’t blame you for being jealous.” Tucking it away onto his belt, he gave me another little smile. “Now, you stay put. I have some things to attend to.” To his black-suited assistant, he said, “Rupert, don’t forget to feed our pet. There will be hell to pay if she dies too soon.”
The door didn’t close all the way behind the shapeshifter, and I saw him exit through what was presumably the front door, leaving Rupert and me alone. The click of the front lock engaging echoed back to us. I looked at my attendant.
“So, you know any jokes?”
He didn’t laugh, or smile, or even really look at me, and all I could image was ripping off these chains and punching him in the face.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rupert had no sense of humor. Not even a little bit. His face appeared to be stuck, masklike, in the same flat expression no matter what words came out of his mouth. I’d started off trying to wear him down with the same tactic that had worked on Frankie the first time—flattery, sweetness, a little bit of flirting.
“You must get tired of dealing with that guy’s attitude all the time. He doesn’t seem like he appreciates all the work you do for him.”
“Work?” Rupert looked at me blandly.
“Well…” I stretched a little, pushing down the pain response as my bandages contorted. “You got a girl for him, chained her to the bed, agreed to babysit her all alone while he runs around all dressed up as her doing God knows what. That takes an admirable amount of dedication.”
“It is my job.” His eyes slipped from my face, roaming over the floor and up the wall. “I do all tasks as Dorias has assigned. No more, no less.”
So, the creep had a name. I filed it away to ask Marcus once I figured a way out of this.
“You don’t seem like you belong here.” I tried again. “I don’t know what it is, but you’re not like the others, are you?”
Rupert shrugged. “The others are weak—too beholden to the gods. That is why I follow Dorias. He will rule this world better than any god.”
“What about you? You seem like you can handle yourself. Why not take the throne for yourself?”
He didn’t say anything at that, just kept that same stupid expression on his face.
Clearly, the friendly approach wasn’t working on him. I decided to change tacks. “Don’t you know that’s crazy talk, man? Dorias isn’t a god. He’s an Apprenti. You’re an Apprenti. You should know there’s a reason you guys are called demigods. If we’re talking battle stats, the Apprenti don’t stand a chance against the likes of Lorcan and his pals. Dorias is going down.”
Rupert stared at me placidly, saying nothing.
I continued. “It would be sheer madness for you to stay involved in this. Let me go, and then save yourself. Get your ass out of here. Find a nice town in the Midwest, meet a girl. Whatever. There’s no way things end well for you.”
Briefly, he almost appeared to be contemplating my suggestion. Then he stood, and knocked me backwards with a powerful fist to the jaw. My head rung a little.
“Bastard,” I said. “If Lorcan doesn’t tear your skin off, I’ll do it myself.”
“Strong words from such a little thing,” he said. “Now I grow weary of your company. But I will provide you sustenance before I depart.” He crossed to a small refrigerator, opened it, and removed a wrapped package, which he then brought to the bed for me. Up close, I could identify it as a fast food burger.
“Really?” I said. “That’s what you got?”
“You are welcome to leave it,” he said. “I have no investment.” After that, he turned and glided out of the room. This tim
e, the door shut securely.
I groaned. Pulling had lengthened my shackles a bit, enough to let me sullenly unwrap and eat the burger. My hunger somewhat mollified, I threw myself into the task of breaking out of the cuffs around my wrists. I had thought maybe my new strength could help me get out, but as minutes bled into hours, I was forced to accept that this wasn’t the case.
Tired and annoyed, I slumped against the headboard and cast my eyes around the room. A jumbled assortment of furniture took up the space. On a table against the far wall, I spotted what I was looking for in a bright flash of gold.
Marcus!
But he was out of reach, naturally. The chains weren’t long enough to allow me more than my feet flat on the floor, and the floor was brutally cold. Coatless, clad only in the clothes I’d worn to meet Jules—actually Dorias—at the restaurant. I was eventually forced to awkwardly burrow under the blankets to try and stop the shivering. The light in the window traveled gradually. A whole day was passing.
My mind, along with my immediate concern, turned to my friend. She was probably dead, but for now, I held onto the hope that Dorias considered the possibility that she was still of some use to him. Chained up in the bed, it seemed that hope was all I had going for me.
I didn’t know how long it took me to fall asleep again, but once I was out, I slept all night. Being held captive was mentally exhausting, if not physically. While I was awake, I drove myself up the wall trying to think of how to get out. Those half-panicked thoughts started up again the moment I opened my eyes.
White morning light flooded in through the bare window, making the room look colder than it already was. I was eyeing the door, searching for weaknesses, when it swung open, revealing none other than the god Lorcan himself.
“I am glad I found you, girl,” he said. “Delano has pled your case and changed my heart. I am willing to offer you my deal once more. Kill the mayor, and you shall have everything you’ve ever needed and more. I will grant you and those you love safe passage through the dark times ahead.”