Gods and Ends (Ordinary Magic Book 3)

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Gods and Ends (Ordinary Magic Book 3) Page 19

by Devon Monk


  “I think we should take a little break.”

  “Nope.”

  “It takes two of us to continue this relationship.”

  “So let’s continue.”

  “I…can’t. I need you to be patient.”

  His lips pressed tightly together into a thin line and he finally leaned back away from me.

  I missed the heat of him, of his body, his life crowding all up in my space.

  “I don’t want you to….” I lifted my hand, wanting to reach out to him, to pull him to me, but gave up on it halfway through the motion.

  “What?”

  “To give up on us.”

  “You just told me you want a break.”

  “I do.”

  “You want me to wait. Give you room to figure out how to deal with having no soul.”

  “Yes. That. Yes.”

  He shook his head. “I am good at a lot of things, Delaney, but living without you isn’t one of them.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. What to say to the truth in his eyes.

  All that came out was, “I need to check on Jean.”

  I hadn’t meant to say that. But it was all I could manage.

  He tipped his head in a sort of shrug. “So redirection is your style now? Come on. Even I won’t fall for that.” He moved away from me, across the kitchen toward the door. “Let’s go check on Jean.”

  He strode out of the kitchen. The pain of pushing him away swelled hard and hot behind my ribs.

  And then it was gone.

  Chapter 12

  “What are you doing here?” Jean demanded. She was sitting in Myra’s rolling chair and using mine to prop her braced foot leg upon, one crutch at her side like an oar.

  Roy, behind the counter, took one look at me, the pissed off boyfriend behind me, and the sardonic demon behind him, and pushed up onto his feet. “I’ll go put on the coffee.” He lumbered off to the back room where he could fill the pot with water, giving the other two officers in the room a nod.

  Hatter and Shoe. They were a study in opposites. Hatter was tall, all arms and legs, and dusky skinned with sharp, light brown eyes and short close-cut hair. He was lounging against the edge of Jean’s desk, chewing on sunflower seeds he popped in his mouth out of a thin plastic tube, and looking like he should have on a cowboy hat to accessorize his uniform.

  His deceptively lazy gaze took us all in. I didn’t know what conclusion he came to.

  Shoe, on the other hand, leaned against the back wall that separated my desk from the rest of the front room. Thick, lighter-skinned, red hair bright enough to give off its own heat, and hard dark eyes, his muscular arms were crossed over his chest and his gaze did not waver from my face. As if Ryder and Bathin weren’t the thing he saw as a threat in the room.

  That was weird.

  “I wanted to check on you,” I said. “Guess how surprised I was to find out you were here at the station working instead of home resting? Like the doctor ordered.”

  “Pshaw,” she slurred. From the happy glitter in her eyes and slight flush on her cheeks, she was still riding the good ship Percocet.

  “I told her to stay home,” Roy said from over by the coffee pot.

  “Traitor,” she said with a loopy grin. “I brought you donuts to buy your silence. ’Cause donuts get stuff done.”

  So that would explain the three overfilled boxes of Puffin Muffin baked goods spread out across the desks.

  “Hogan?” I asked.

  She sighed dreamily. “He got up early to make sure I had two of every kind they make. Isn’t that damn sweet of him? Damn sweet. Don’t tell anyone, but I like him. And his butt.”

  “Did she take a double dose of the happy pills?”

  Hatter swallowed the sunflower seeds. “Don’t know. She just showed up. Like all that.” He gestured at her. “Baker brought her in. He says he’s not her boyfriend, and also that it’s ‘complicated’ because she’s ‘pig-headed’ and ‘relationship-stunted’.”

  Wow. That was. Wow.

  Jean just grinned. “Oh, yeah. I’m the stunted one. Psssssh. I don’t hold the family record of staying out of a relationship that was right in front of my face, do I, Delaney?”

  I ignored her.

  “It was Hogan,” I said. “He’s her boyfriend.”

  “He doesn’t know our Ordinary secrets. Shhhhh.” Jean carefully lifted her crutch and sort of waved it at Shoe and Hatter, almost knocking everything off her desk.

  I strode around the front counter so I could grab the crutch away from her before she bulldozed her collection of evil wizards.

  “Hey,” she complained. “I’m really gonna need that thing.”

  I propped the crutch against the desk and took her hand. “I know. But you should be in bed, honey, not here trying to work.”

  “Can’t sleep. Too many monsters.” She frowned like she had just realized what she said. “You know. The killer. Wait.” She reached out with her good hand and grabbed my wrist. “Myra said you did something bad. With a demon.”

  Said demon chuckled a low, sexy sound. “She did. Very bad.”

  “I didn’t do anything bad.”

  “Now, now,” Bathin said. “It’s not nice to lie.”

  I glared at him, even though I didn’t feel the anger behind it for long.

  “That’s him?” Jean shifted so she could get a better look at Bathin. Her eyes went wide. “Wow.”

  And yeah, he was all kinds of good-looking in the suit slacks and white shirt which somehow hadn’t gotten dirty even though he’d carried a bleeding vampire in his arms. Or maybe he’d changed into a new shirt. Did he keep a wardrobe in some kind of magical bag I couldn’t see? Or maybe he had a portal through time that opened on a dry cleaners.

  “I manifest as I choose,” he said, his voice a low roll through my mind. I wondered if he’d said it out loud or only in my head.

  That made him chuckle again. He strolled forward and paused in front of the box of donuts on the counter. He took a moment to decide, then picked one coated in cinnamon and sugar.

  “That’s Bathin,” I said, answering Jean’s question. “And yeah, he’s a demon.”

  Shoe, still leaning on the wall grunted. I suspected he was recording everything about the demon with that incredibly photographic memory of his.

  Dad told me once he wouldn’t trade his life with Shoe’s for all the money in the world. Said it was a mercy to be able to forget certain details of life.

  The older I got, the more I agreed with him.

  Ryder pushed past Bathin, knocking his shoulder into the demon as he passed behind the counter.

  Hatter reeled himself up off the desk and offered one long-fingered hand. “And you would be?”

  “Ryder Bailey. Reserve officer.”

  “Pleased. That’s Shoe.”

  Ryder released Hatter’s hand and crossed over to the other Tillamook officer. Shoe offered a hand and a grunt, but didn’t move away from the wall.

  “Anyone want to fill us out-of-towners in on the demon sitch-u-ation?” Hatter asked in some kind of drawl that I knew was wholly put on.

  “Delaney Reed traded her soul to me for three magic beans. It’s a beautiful story full of giants and talking harps and 14-karat water fowl.”

  I flipped Bathin off. “It’s a bit of a mess, but it all boils down to Bathin being in town for a while. Until we get a handle on things.”

  “And your soul?” Hatter asked.

  “Oh, I have a handle on that.” Bathin was staring at Ryder when he said that.

  I didn’t know if he was trying to make every person in the room glare, but he’d succeeded.

  “We’ll take care of that,” Ryder threatened more than stated.

  Bathin smiled, then his tongue flicked out to catch at the cinnamon at the corner of his mouth. It was very pointy, and very red.

  “Wow,” Jean said again. She was a little flushed and breathing a little hard, which only made Bathin chuckle, and that just multipl
ied all his heat and sexiness. She made another sound, one that didn’t really form into words.

  “Okay then,” I pushed the corner of her chair so she swivelled my way and couldn’t see tall-dark-and-douchey. “He’s a demon. We don’t like him.”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “Right. Demon bad. I think I need some sleep, okay?”

  “Sleep sounds like a great idea, honey. You need to go home and curl up in your bed.”

  “Yeah.” A cloud fell over her and she went sort of tense. “That would be great.”

  It was clear she didn’t want to go home. “Maybe I’ll just hit the cot? That way I’d be here if you need me.”

  I was about to tell her the cot wouldn’t be very comfortable with her bum leg and hurt arm and ribs, but didn’t get that far.

  “I have had quite enough of this, Delaney Reed.” A voice called out from the door.

  Bertie, our one and only Valkyrie, stormed into the room. Short white hair, sharp bird-like features, and a spring-tight compact frame, Bertie looked to be somewhere in her eighties, but was immortal. She was rocking a lightweight beige tank top with a silken over-sleeve that glittered with gold and matched the bright drape of blood-red jewels dripping from a chain around her neck. Her slacks and open-toe heels completed her look.

  And by look, I mean it made her look like both the battlefield warrior and community coordinator she was.

  “Bertie,” I said, just as Hatter said, “Ma’am,” and Shoe straightened up off of the wall and slipped into parade rest. Oh, yeah, they’d met her before.

  “Tell me you haven’t gone willingly into this travesty,” she went on as if there were no one in the room but her and me.

  “You’re going to have to narrow that down. There’s been a lot of travesty around here lately.”

  She paused in her march, and then surveyed the room as if looking for bones with enough meat left on them to pick. She squared off against Bathin.

  “Hell-spawn. You have no place in this haven.”

  “I don’t believe it’s your place to say so, Valkyrie.”

  “There is a reason he denied you entrance.”

  “Ancient history. We had our time and made amends.”

  “Did you?” Her eyes got even sharper, and I thought I saw the hard glint of gold there.

  “Yes.”

  Silence, while they weighed the truth of whoever they were talking about. I had a feeling it was my dad.

  “He knew,” I said, breaking the silence that was starting to get uncomfortable. “If you’re talking about Dad, he knew that I traded my soul in exchange for Ben’s rescue and Bathin’s ability to be in Ordinary.”

  Bertie didn’t even glance my way. “Did you deliver on your promise?” She sounded eerily close to a disappointed schoolmistress.

  “Have I ever gone against my word?”

  “Many, many times, as I recall.”

  He blushed. Or at least I thought that was a blush. For a guy who could choose his appearance, he seemed to have decided on scolded student. Wasn’t that interesting? Bathin could be what? Ashamed? Flustered? Guilty? Whatever it was, he looked uncomfortable and I totally loved Bertie for cracking that cool facade he carried around.

  Loved her enough I might even buy her pie.

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Well.”

  I was so going to pin Bertie down and make her tell me every detail she knew about Bathin because this was too good of a show to only see once.

  “Hey, Bertie!” Jean waved. “Wanna sign my cast?”

  Bertie broke the stare-off she’d been having with the demon and it was not my imagination that Bathin exhaled. Oh, he recovered quickly, but it had happened and I’d seen it. He’d been cowed by a little old lady.

  “Of course I’ll sign it, dear.” She walked around behind the counter where no one went unless they worked here or were escorted by someone who worked here.

  None of us told her she wasn’t allowed behind the counter because all of us knew better than to tell Bertie what to do.

  “Ma’am.” Hatter sprang forward all legs and lank, and produced a red Sharpie out of his back pocket.

  “Thank you, Officer Shoe.” She took the pen from him, oblivious or not caring that the rest of us were still watching her every move. “Delaney, I need to speak with you even thought Ryder told me on the phone earlier that you were unavailable.”

  Ryder just sighed.

  “Sure?” I said.

  She tipped her head to either side, and considered Jean’s cast as if it were a canvas that needed attacking. “I see that you have several irons in the fire. But I am going to insist you address yet another.” She bent slightly and signed Jean’s cast, adding a little heart with wings and claws. It was kind of cute.

  “I can multitask and I have good backup. What do you need, Bertie?”

  “I need you to stop the war before the first blood is drawn.”

  Pause. “Okay?” I’d been hearing there was a war brewing for months now, so this wasn’t really surprising. “Details?”

  “They’ve come together today. At the Starbucks. In the grocery store.”

  Since we didn’t have another Starbucks, she didn’t really have to define that for me. “Who? Now?” My thoughts raced. Was Lavius in Ordinary? Had he sent more undead, demon-possessed vampires into town to take us out?

  If so, why would they stop at Starbucks? Did demons prefer a frothy latte before battle?

  “Flat white, usually,” Bathin said. “Froth makes me bloat.”

  I hated that he was reading my mind. “I hate you reading my mind.”

  He just smiled because he knew that as soon as I said the words, my hate was gone, leaving cool and nothing behind.

  Stupid face.

  “How many demons are there?” I asked Bertie as I catalogued what kind of weaponry we’d need to take with us, and whether we needed to lock down the area or evacuate.

  “Demons?” Bertie frowned. “No. You misunderstand. I’m wholly unconcerned about bottom-dwellers.”

  Bathin coughed but it sounded like racist, and Bertie ignored him.

  “It’s much worse than demons.”

  “Vampires?” I asked.

  She pressed her lips together, disappointed in my mental abilities.

  “How about you just tell me, Bertie so I know what kind of weaponry to pack.”

  “It’s the knitters. They’ve declared war. And the crocheters are geared up for the siege.”

  Pause.

  “What now?”

  “The knitters. You know. The K.I.N.K.s and C.O.C.K.s.”

  Jean barked out a laugh and set off into a howling giggle fit.

  “Uhng…huh?” was the only thing I had to offer.

  Ryder coughed, and then laughed, a deep, warm sound that made me want to press myself closer to him so I could wallow in the joy there.

  Even Shoe and Hatter chuckled. Roy, just shook his head. “You’re all children.”

  Bathin wasn’t laughing, but he intently took in our reactions. He almost looked pleased. Which, okay, I hadn’t known him for even a day yet, but I would have expected him to be sort of into pain and suffering, not a bunch of people laughing over a couple acronyms.

  “Delaney,” Bertie scolded. “This is serious.”

  “Right. Yes. Serious. Okay. So the knitters, that’s the K.I.N.K.s?”

  Bertie nodded.

  “The K.I.N.K.s have threatened the C.O.C.Ks?”

  “Woulda’ thought they’d be into that,” Hatter delivered deadpan.

  “Did they forget their safeword?” Shoe asked.

  Jean’s howl turned into a hissy wheeze.

  Both men grinned at her reaction. She waved at them, trying to make them stop.

  Bertie arched her eyebrows. “Perhaps we should head to the engagement before the members get out of hand and things take a turn for the worse?”

  Nope. She’d started this. And Hatter wasn’t going to miss a chance to make Jean choke on her tongue.

/>   “If you’re hard up, Shoe and I can whip those C.O.C.Ks into shape. Shoe’s got lots of practice. He can whip C.O.C.K. with one hand tied behind his back. I hear he likes it that way.”

  Shoe nodded, his serious expression unyielding. “Hatter has a lot of experience with K.I.N.K. He’s a master at dominating those kinds of situations.”

  Jean wrapped her good arm across her ribs and whispered. “Hurts. Stop. Oh, gods.”

  Ryder rubbed at his face and wiped at the corners of his eyes. His grin was wide and bright, and I wanted to feel that. To smile with him, to laugh at all these stupid jokes, to feel the heat and rub of emotions moving and pressing against my chest, my ribs, scrubbing beneath my skin.

  But I was wind and emptiness, chained to the open sky, anything but free.

  And I apparently also had a fiber war to deescalate.

  “You two jokers will stay here with Jean until one of you can bully her into going home and getting some rest.”

  “Wait,” Jean managed.

  “Or,” I amended, “help her get comfortable on the cot for some sleep.”

  She nodded as she wiped at her eyes. She calmed her giggles, then glanced up at Hatter who waggled his eyebrows. She snorted and leaned her head back, her hand covering her face.

  “Gonna die.”

  “Roy, you’re working your shift?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Good. Bertie and I will go deal with the knit and crochet problem.” Shoe snickered and I leveled a glare at him that did absolutely nothing.

  “Ryder, can you go check in on Ben and see how he’s doing?”

  “We could call.”

  “I’d rather get eyes on the situation. We don’t need the vamps and weres going after each other.”

  “Ben was taken to the hospital early this morning,” Hatter said.

  I gave Jean’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Listen to the boys while I’m gone. You can sleep here. No monsters under the cot. I promise.”

  I stood and started toward the door. Bathin fell into step next to me, but Ryder muscled his way up and all but hip-checked the demon. He used those long legs and stopped in front of the door, blocking my way out.

  “Hey, boss,” he said. “I could use a second of your time. Are you listening?”

  Bertie made a little tsk sound between her teeth. “Mr. Bailey.”

 

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