by Devon Monk
“What does that mean?” she asked.
I sat on the edge of an empty desk and stuck my hands in my jacket pockets. “I don’t know how much research you’ve done on the Authority, but you must know that we have rules, structure, policies. We work inside the law. Yes, we kept Joshua’s death quiet for a few hours, but we’re getting the police involved. We’re turning the investigation of his death—and who killed him—over to them.”
Dash stood. “I’ll start making calls.” He strolled off to his office, stopping to talk with Clyde, who was on his cell phone near the far window.
“Really?” she said. “This is how you’re going to play it?”
“Isn’t a game, darling. We’ve had our see of things, and we’ll be turning all information over to the police. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like.”
She stood. Left her coffee behind. Stepped up in my space.
My body responded to her: heartbeat, blood, breath. Pounding. Needful.
I didn’t let it show. But I wanted to. Wanted to smile, and draw her in, and kiss her again until her clothes fell off.
“If you’re lying to me,” she said.
“I’m not.”
She studied my face, the corners of her mouth pulling just slightly downward. Searching for my tell.
“This isn’t my poker face,” I said. “This is my truth face. We’re off this case. Now, if you want to make everyone’s life a little easier, you could go talk to Mr. Turner over there and tell him what you know about . . . everything.”
She placed her hand on my knee. Heat scorched across my body. And I held my breath on a groan.
Keep it cool, Shamus. Keep it cool.
“You’re going to take orders from him?”
“Today I am.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow looks good too.”
For a second, her mask slipped, and the woman who was grieving for the brother she loved was standing there, with hope breaking in her eyes. “So you’re telling me no. Again.”
“That’s the way it has to be.”
She glanced over my shoulder. Terric was still in his office watching the sun rise on the end of his career. Dash and Clyde had closed themselves in Dash’s smaller office.
No help there.
“Shame,” she began. “You could give me a list of names, and I’ll take it from there. I can stay out of the way. Out of your way, out of the way of the police investigation. Please. You won’t even see me.”
There she was again, the woman behind the mask. The one who was willing to do anything to see that her brother’s killer was taken down. The one who rescued purple turtles for babies.
“Who says I don’t want to see you?” I said softly.
“Do you?”
What was I thinking? The best thing I could do for her—the best thing I could do for anyone—was keep them far away from me and my hunger.
“Well, we do have a lunch date,” I said, trying to keep it light.
“Yes,” she said. “We do.”
“I’m not going to give you any information, though,” I said.
“I understand that. I’m sure we’ll find something else to talk about.”
“Good. Oh, and, Dessa, if I were you, I’d give up on the revenge business.”
She shook her head and lifted her hand away from my knee. “No,” she said quietly, “you wouldn’t.”
I gave her half a smile before she turned to walk away. She was absolutely right. When it came to revenge, there was nothing on this earth that could stop me.
Chapter 12
Dessa said good-bye to Dash, got the address of the pizza place, and was gone.
“Maybe you should invest in a bulletproof vest,” Dash said as he picked up the stray coffee cups and returned them to the coffee station.
“Wouldn’t do me any good,” I said. “I don’t think she’d aim at my heart.”
“Bulletproof jockstrap?”
I grinned. “Helmet. I think if I really crossed her, she’d take me down with one clean shot.”
He chuckled and walked off tugging at the cuffs of his shirt. The windows were bright enough, there was no use denying day had arrived. The pulse of the city was pumping.
I sat at one of the empty desks and tried to push the spike of hunger away. Nothing here to consume, Flynn. No one deserved that kind of death.
I rolled my fingers, grinding the rings between them, the metallic scrape becoming a rhythm to cover the song of the living. I closed my eyes and tried to lose myself to it.
Dash set something down beside me with a clunk.
I opened my eyes.
“I hate this plant,” he said.
Then he turned his back and walked toward the half-filled boxes by my old desk and started packing again.
I glanced down at the plant. A fern, I think. Did a check on the room: Eleanor wandering between desks, Terric and Clyde standing between the offices, talking quietly, Dash packing crap out of my desk.
No one was watching me.
I took a breath. Control would be good. Focused on the fern. This, just this one plant, was all the life I could have. So I was going to savor every damn frond.
I dragged the fingertip of my left hand gently along one arching branch of the thing, drawing out the life slowly, leaf by leaf, all the way to the arrow-sharp end, draining it, killing it. Reducing it to fragile brown bones.
I licked my lips, and my finger trembled just a bit as I moved on to the next branch. Repeated the process. Then again. And again. Slow as I could. Like a ritual. Like this would be the last life I’d ever taste. Like it could fill the endless hungry hole inside me.
Didn’t work. Nothing stopped the hunger.
Still, it was something. An offering to the monster. Enough to keep me in the clear for a few more minutes.
Which, really, was as good as it was going to get.
“...or are you going to walk?” Terric was asking as he strode across the room.
I glanced up, then around. Yep, he was talking to me.
About that time he noticed the dead plant next to me. His expression shifted from annoyed to something else.
“I’ll drive,” he said a little more gently. “Dash, I’m sorry to leave you with the packing. I’ll try to be back this afternoon.”
Dash gave Terric a smile. “The last thing you need to worry about right now is paperwork,” he said. “I got this. Good luck at the meeting.”
“See you boys soon,” Clyde said.
“Shame?” Terric pointed toward the door. “Let’s go.”
So we went. Hallway, elevator, street with people headed to work, headed to breakfast, headed home, and finally, his car.
I ducked in, my heart pounding too hard.
“Are you . . .”
“I’m hungry,” I said.
“Do you want—”
“No. Don’t. Just don’t talk to me for the drive.”
Terric started the car. That was the last of the world I paid attention to other than Eleanor’s cold hand resting against the back of my neck, which did some little good to cool the fire burning in me.
I closed my eyes behind my sunglasses and pushed the life around me away, far away.
If I could disappear in my head for a year, it wouldn’t be long enough.
Came to with the scent of bacon filling my senses.
Opened my eyes. I was still sitting in the passenger’s side of the car. The engine was not running. The car was parked. Eleanor was nowhere to be seen.
“Morning,” Zayvion said. He was sitting in the driver’s side of the car with a plate piled high with bacon. A fresh cup of coffee steamed in the cup holder.
“This is . . . odd,” I said.
“Eat,” he said. “You’re not going into that inn until you do.”
He shoved the plate of bacon at me, and I took it because, hey, free bacon. “Why?” I asked after I folded and ate three slices at once.
“You tuned out o
n the way over here. Terric said you needed food. There’s coffee.” He pointed.
I reached over, took the coffee, drank. Lots of sugar, lots of cream. Just how I liked it. Come to think of it, the bacon was just how I liked it too.
“I was just resting my eyes,” I said.
“Bullshit,” Zay said. His brown eyes were flecked with gold. So he was a little angry. Or ready to call on magic. Maybe ready to shut me down.
He was a good man.
“Do I look that dangerous, mate?”
He took a minute before he answered, then, “Yes. Terric said you haven’t been eating. And you’re having trouble controlling magic.”
“And you believed him?”
“Is he wrong?”
I gulped down coffee, set the cup on my knee. “He worries too much. And is upset about losing his job.”
“That’s not what I asked you,” Zay said. “Are you listening to me, Shame?”
“Of course.”
He gave me a look. I stopped, put the bacon down, wiped my fingers on my jeans, and turned toward him, pressing my shoulder against the door. “You have all the attention I have left, Jones. What?”
“Allie’s pregnant.”
Holy. Shit.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Shut it. Tried again. “Hell yes! Congratulations, mate! That’s . . . It’s yours, right?”
He punched my arm. Hard.
“Ow!”
“Of course it’s mine,” he said.
“I’m . . . without words. Damn. This is great news. Happy news. Mr. Jones is going to be a papa. How’s that sitting with you?”
Some of the anger and tension drained out of him, replaced by a kind of nervousness I hadn’t seen since we were teens. “I’m thrilled?” He nodded, and exhaled. “A little terrified at times.”
“And Allie? How’s she taking it?”
He smiled. That head-over-heels-in-love look that hadn’t faded in all these years shone up the place. “She’s amazing. Calm. Happy. Beautiful.”
“So what does this happy news have to do with bacon?”
“She’s in the inn. My pregnant wife is in there, Shame. And I need you to be in control when you’re around her. We’re taking precautions until she gets through her first trimester with the baby. She and I aren’t using magic. Not together. Not at all, so far. The doctors . . . There isn’t any information on how breaking magic will affect an unborn baby. So we’re being careful. Very careful. And I need to know you won’t hurt her.”
I could get mad at that. My best friend didn’t trust me. But he was right to be worried about this. He was right to keep his baby and Allie safe from me.
“So?” Zay said. “How are you doing with Death magic? Really.”
“It pulls pretty hard.” I picked up my coffee cup but didn’t drink. “I can stay ahead of the hunger. I can stay ahead of the push to use it . . . let it use me. So far I haven’t done anything . . . certifiably evil. Food helps. Small destructions are good. The rings help.” I lifted my hand to show him them.
“Are you in control right now?”
“Yes.” I was not lying. I wouldn’t lie about this. Zay knew it.
“Good. Finish eating. The Overseer is waiting.”
I shoved the rest of the bacon in my mouth and took another drink of coffee. It was almost cold now. I’d been draining the heat from it while it was in my hand.
I drank it down cold, then nodded. “I’m good.”
He took one last hard look at me. I must have passed muster, because he opened the door and got out of the car.
I left the plate and cup in the car, mostly because I knew it would bother Terric, and pushed my sunglasses closer to my eyes. Looked around.
Huh. We were in the parking lot of my mother’s restaurant and inn. There weren’t any cars here that I didn’t recognize, which meant we were having a private meeting. Zay stopped next to me, a mountain of heat and life.
Man burned like a torch. More so now because he was tied to Allie, to her life, and to the new life inside her.
It was beautiful, really. Rare to see. And I was determined not to let that fall apart because of me.
We walked across the gravel to the door. I paused before opening it.
“How do I look?” I asked him.
He knew what I was asking. Was I throwing death vibes? Was I leaking Death magic?
Zay put a hand on my shoulder. Heavy. Wide. Hot.
I didn’t pull on the life in him. Not a single drop of all that gorgeous, rich life. His life.
He waited a second, then nodded. “You’re good, Shame.”
“Good? Come on, now. You know I am the best, Z.” I gave him a grin.
One eyebrow rose. “You’re all right.”
“The lies coming out of your mouth.” I pushed on the door. “I do not know how she puts up with you.”
“It’s a little thing called love,” Zayvion said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. “Can’t run from it, can’t deny it.”
“Sure I can.”
“Now who’s lying?” he said.
We were in the main room. Warm. Smelled of breakfast food, bread, and pies or something sweet being baked for the afternoon crowd, with just a note of sausage or bacon.
The tables that lined windows and filled the high-ceiling and wood-beamed dining area were covered in dark green cloths, and centered with flowers. Chairs were wooden, floor was the original from when the old place had been a train station.
Sitting at one of the larger tables was the Overseer, Terric, Allie, and Victor.
“Morning, everyone,” I called out cheerily. “How goes the plotting and planning?”
“Good morning, Shamus,” Victor said.
Victor was old enough to be my father. I thought of him as my uncle, really. Gray haired, he wore heavy glasses that let him mostly get around on his own since he’d lost nearly all of his eyesight from the magical showdown before the apocalypse.
He had on a suit jacket, shirt, no tie. Looked like he was drinking tea. At his left was Terric, who gave Zay a look, then turned to watch me. Next to him was Allie, and she was beaming.
I didn’t know how I had missed it at the meeting just yesterday morning. But the woman glowed—literally. The life and, yes, magic, inside her was luminescent.
I gave her a big smile. “Al, you little vixen, you. What’s the good news, love?”
She pushed away from the table and walked right on over to me. Unafraid, that woman. She never disappointed. “Did Zay tell you?”
“He did. You’re going to be a mum, eh?”
She nodded, and the smile lit her eyes. “I am. How do you feel about being an uncle?”
“Over the moon.”
“Good,” Zayvion said. “How do you feel about being a godfather?”
That, I did not expect. “What? Are you joking?”
“No,” Allie said. “We are not. Would you be our child’s godfather, Shame?”
“Yes,” I said. “Of course. If you want me to be.”
And then Allie put her arms around me and gave me a hug.
Lord.
I clamped a fist around my hunger and put my arms around her like she was made of eggshells. I was determined I’d drink the life out of the building and every tree for an acre around before I so much as touched the life in her.
My heart slowed to a low, dragging beat. A beat I controlled.
Zay, just behind Allie’s shoulder, watched me. That look told me he’d take me down before I hurt her.
Good man.
She let go of me. Was still smiling as Zay stepped up and put his arm over her shoulder.
“We should celebrate,” I said, letting go of my control enough that my heart stuttered through a beat or two before it got its rhythm back. “Whiskey all around!”
“It’s six o’clock in the morning,” Terric said. “How about we have coffee and pie?”
“Spoilsport,” I said.
“What kind of pie?” Allie asked.
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“For you and that godbaby of mine,” I said, “any pie you want.”
“I’ll see what they have,” Zay said.
And then he walked off to the kitchen, leaving Allie behind with us.
Correction: leaving Allie behind with me.
He hadn’t given me a higher compliment in years. It stilled me.
I would not let him down.
Allie and I walked over to the table and she took her place beside Terric, an empty chair on her other side for Zayvion, then Victor and the Overseer.
Eleanor floated over to her favorite perch in the dining room—the bar at the far end.
I sat off to one side of the table, putting as many chairs as I could between me and the living.
“Small group,” I noted.
“We’ve already spoken to the other Soul Complements,” the Overseer started. “So now it’s just the four of you.”
Zay came back from the kitchen with two pies in his hands. Set those on the table. Cherry and apple. Not a bad score.
He applied a knife to the apple pie.
“And what have the others decided?” Terric asked.
The Overseer shook his head. “I’d rather not say. If something happens, I don’t want any of you to have information that might harm the others.”
“So why have all of us here now?” I asked. “Do you expect me to cover my ears and hum while Zay and Allie talk to you?”
“Shame,” Victor said, “please. Show some respect.”
“All right: respectfully,” I said. “You do know we can hear each other?”
“Victor and I agreed it would be best,” the Overseer said. “Since you’ve all decided to stay.”
I turned my gaze to Allie. “Really?”
“This is our home,” she said. “And our home ground. If something comes our way, we know the place and people better than anywhere or anyone in the world. I’d rather fight or hide here.”
I didn’t have to ask Zayvion what he thought about that decision. His heartbeat was steady but hard, just a little too much adrenaline pushing through his veins. He didn’t disagree but he knew they were in for trouble. Fight. Flight. Maybe both.
And they had a baby to protect.
Hell.
Terric and I had already made our decision to stay put. Now there was even more reason to do so.
“Are you staying at your place?” I asked. “There’s room here at the inn if you want.”