Misery Happens

by Tracey Martin

  Even now, I didn’t trust myself to be entirely happy. I’d proved I could handle Claudius’s bond, and with Devon waking up, it all felt like too much good news. We’d experienced so little of that lately that I feared it being swept away as soon as I allowed myself to enjoy it.

  Lucen wrapped an arm around me as we waited to be buzzed into Devon’s apartment building, and I sank into him for support. He smelled of his usual cinnamon goodness mixed with the faintest hint of alcohol, which was—no doubt—my fault. The thought of cinnamon schnapps made me want to gag, but on Lucen, pretty much anything smelled good.

  That reminded me of the additional complication caused by Devon waking up. Days before the fighting in the Alps, Devon had suggested he was interested in making more of our relationship. I wasn’t sure what to do about that. My confusion had nothing to do with my feelings for Devon and everything to do with my thoughts about relationships in general. Having spent most of my last decade unhappily dateless, the idea of two men in my life made my head spin and uprooted my entire idealized version of my life. It was almost as crazy-making as discovering I wasn’t human.

  Of course, contemplating the complications of an abnormal love life was a luxury I shouldn’t bother to indulge in yet. So I hadn’t ended up seeing stars while curled in the fetal position after today’s bout with Claudius—that didn’t mean we would succeed.

  Azria met us at the door, and we found Devon propped up on his black sofa. A fuzzy orange blanket, which was completely out of place, had been thrown over him. For that matter, Devon appeared just as incongruous with his surroundings.

  Devon liked the sleek, the modern and the expensive. His large, top-floor apartment was decorated with tasteful leather seating, white rugs, glass and marble. Maroon throw pillows and watercolors of scarlet poppies provided the accent. Everything was airy and modern, and everything probably cost more than I could contemplate. Everything except for the orange blanket.

  As for the satyr who considered himself underdressed if he loosened his designer tie, he looked more like the blanket than his room. His curly black hair was in need of a more thorough brushing, and he sported quite the full beard. His displeasure at being discovered in such a state was evident when Lucen’s first reaction was to take a photo. Devon struggled to raise an arm, and he pointed at the door. “Out.”

  Lucen grinned. “Get off that sofa and make me, you lazy ass.”

  Devon’s arm flopped back to his side, and he gazed wearily at Dezzi. “Tell me I still outrank him and he has to listen to me.” His voice was raspy and barely audible.

  “Stop stressing him,” Azria said to Lucen. She opened the water bottle on the living room table, refilled Devon’s glass and handed it to him. “It’s bad enough that he insisted on moving into this room before he’d let company over.”

  Devon winced as he drank. “So she put this hideous blanket over me as punishment.”

  Azria tossed her pink hair over her shoulders. “You haven’t eaten real food in ten days, your vitals are weak, I practically had to carry you in here, and I still don’t know exactly what sort of curse I’ve been dealing with. I don’t care if you outrank me. Don’t give me more grief or I’ll hit you with a sleeping potion.”

  Devon sighed dramatically. “I don’t suppose Raj is hanging around Boston these days so we can ask him what he did?”

  “Raj is dead,” Dezzi said, sitting on a chair across from Devon. “Jessica killed him.”

  Devon’s blue eyes flickered with a trace of his old humor. “My hero. Jess, where are you? I can sense you, but I can’t see you. Why are you hiding?”

  I’d been hanging back, feeling like an intruder. Dezzi and Lucen had known Devon far longer and better than I had. Much as I wanted to run over and wrap him in a hug—a gesture that would normally be as out of place between us as the stupid blanket—it didn’t seem right.

  Awkwardly, I stepped forward. “I aim to please.”

  “I know you do.” He held up his hand ever so slightly. “Closer. I’m so low on energy.”

  “So you want to feed off me, is that it?” I knelt next to the sofa. “I didn’t realize I came here to be your buffet.”

  I took his hand, letting his clove scent settle in my lungs. It was fainter than usual, but the effect of his skin against mine was not. Wisps of his magic swirled around my wrist, climbing my arm and caressing me in all the right places. My body reveled in the heat he brought, and unlike my battles with Claudius’s power, I welcomed it.

  Devon did as well. He closed his eyes and laid his head against the pillow, smiling. “That’s better.”

  “Go easy on him,” Azria said. “He could use some human contact to speed his recovery, but he needs rest and regular food too.”

  “Don’t listen to her.” Devon squeezed my hand. “This is what I need. And maybe some beer.”

  Dezzi tsked him. “You will listen to Azria. I expect you to get better quickly. Our plans are progressing, and I will need your help.”

  Devon’s face turned unusually serious. “Understood. I have a few furies I’d like a word with myself.”

  “And a club in need of some repairs.” Lucen flopped on a chair, his face impishly delighted. “Jess can fill you in on that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  In order to maintain their bonds, every so often preds had to feed their addicts, essentially giving them the one thing the bond forced them to crave above all else. For a goblin, the exchange might be as simple as a gift from master to addict. For a sylph, it could be a compliment. For a satyr, it wasn’t something that could be exchanged in public without causing a lot of trouble and possibly traffic accidents. I hadn’t thought much about it before, but this was a disadvantage the other pred races didn’t need to deal with.

  Devon wasn’t the sort of satyr who allowed his addicts access to his personal space. But since taking him to Purgatory—which was where he normally met them—was out of the question for the time being, he had a problem.

  I’d been recruited to solve it. Naturally.

  “You truly are my hero.” Devon gazed up at me from his sofa, doing his best to adopt an innocent face that he couldn’t quite pull off.

  “You mean I’m your dinner.”

  He trailed a finger along the back of my hand, sending sensual shivers down my back. “I was trying to put a positive spin on it. You ruined my club. It’s a gift that I’m allowing you to pay off your debt this way.”

  “Doesn’t your insurance policy cover acts of magic?”

  That earned me a derisive snort and some choice words about insurance, crooks and anti-pred discrimination.

  I considered his irritation a good sign, and honestly, I wasn’t sorry to be hanging around, playing nurse. My head could use a rest after my repeated sessions with Claudius earlier, and Devon had missed an awful lot of news. I was in a good position to fill him in on everything.

  Dezzi had left half an hour ago, and Lucen shortly thereafter to restock Devon’s kitchen. While Lucen was gone, I’d helped Devon shower and shave, and I’d explained everything he’d missed. Azria had left behind a small bottle of some sort of charm that smelled a lot like the potion Claudius had given me to drink. Whatever it was, between that and my presence, Devon seemed more like his old self. A gaunter, weaker, crankier self, but it was an improvement.

  The door opened, and Lucen entered carrying several shopping bags. “Finding basic supplies is getting harder and harder. Half the shelves were empty.”

  I closed the door behind him, and Lucen emptied the contents on Devon’s counter. The news had warned as much about the latest run on food, water and survival gear. Yesterday’s attack in The Feathers wasn’t an isolated incident. Over a dozen major cities around the U.S. and in Europe had experienced similar attacks, leading to a whole new level of panic.

  “I want steak,” Devon called out from the sofa. “And wine.
There’s a bottle of merlot on the wine rack that—”

  Lucen slapped a can of chicken broth on the polished wood dining table where Devon could see it. “Azria said you need soft, easily digestible foods. So do you want broth or eggs?”

  Devon winced. “Oh, come on. I thought she was referring to Jess.”

  Sneering, I snatched the can from Lucen and returned to the kitchen. “He gets the broth.”

  “Eggs! I want eggs.” He muttered a curse then raised his voice. “I want my nurse back too.”

  Lucen was snickering silently, and he nudged me out of the kitchen. “Go to him. I’m the cook in this relationship.”

  “Yeah, yeah. And I’m the food. You both suck.” Hands on my hips, I returned to Devon’s side, but my phone rang before I could sit down. “Finally. Tom.”

  I’d left him a voicemail on the way to Devon’s to let him know about my breakthrough with Claudius and that I was taking a much-needed rest. Given the importance of the news, I’d been expecting to hear back sooner.

  “Jessica, this is fantastic,” he said in way of greeting. “I didn’t doubt you’d be able to channel so much power eventually, but I have to admit I was skeptical of your timeline.”

  I pushed aside the blinds covering Devon’s picture window. Shadowtown and the rest of Boston glittered below in the darkness, but clouds had blown in during the afternoon and a light rain fell. I couldn’t find any trace of the moon. “Just doing as the prophecy ordered.”

  “That’s not how prophecies or visions work.”

  I let the blinds drop back into place, very aware of that fact. The magi’s prophecy only hinted that someone like me would be necessary to avert the demons from taking over. It said nothing about whether we’d actually be successful if we tried. “I was kidding.”

  “Of course, sorry. I’m tired. We’re having a busy day on this end too. Are you going to resume your training with Claudius tonight?”

  Suppressing a groan, I sank onto the sofa next to Devon. The thought of picking back up where we left off made me weary. “It’s only been an hour or so. Mitch needs time to catch up.”

  “Then we’ll have to find additional recruits to help. It’s very important that you learn how to control the power in order to take possession of the key.”

  Right. We’d been over this. The only new information the magi had been able to provide about the Pit’s mysterious key was that it had to be charged with power in order to lock the prison. No one could explain exactly what that entailed, but I suspected—as Tom apparently did too—that channeling power was part of it.

  It remained to be determined whether part was enough. My stomach revolted at the thought of all the unknowns, and Devon placed a reassuring hand on my leg. At least he was getting to magically chew on my displeasure.

  “When will everything be ready to go on your end?” I asked. It wasn’t that I wanted to stall, not exactly, but I did legitimately fear wearing myself out by pushing too hard. Not to mention pushing Mitch the same way.

  “We can be ready in twenty-four hours,” Tom said. “We’ve gathered almost all the supplies we need. The last crucial pieces are getting the teams together and prepped.”

  Twenty-four hours. Though I’d known our time was limited and getting shorter, hearing that I could be heading to my death in only a day made the whole situation so much worse. My heartbeat spiked, genuine fear replacing the anxiety I’d gotten used to living with. Lucen popped his head into the living room, sensing my emotions, and I forced a thin smile.

  “I’ll coordinate more time with Mitch and Claudius. We’ll be as ready as we can be.” I hung up and set the phone on the table. “I need some of that wine.”

  “You just turned several shades paler,” Lucen said. “What did Kassin say?”

  I swallowed. “I could be en route in a day.”

  Lucen shook his head. “Not likely. The Gryphons might be ready then, but our people will keep them waiting for recruits. Kassin doesn’t realize the negotiating and politics of deciding who goes.”

  “Are you kidding? We don’t have time to waste on power struggles.” Power struggles that would most likely be useless anyway.

  “And yet you will.” Devon fought to sit up. “Once everyone’s assembled, each group will want to be in charge, and they’ll argue over plans. It’ll be two days minimum before anyone deploys.”

  I retrieved my phone so I could check in with Mitch. “One day, two days. Whatever. It’s coming up fast.”

  “Not a moment too soon,” Lucen said from the kitchen. “We have to get moving.”

  Yeah, we did, but accepting it didn’t halt the wave of nausea that came with hearing Lucen say we. I could resign myself to my fate. I could not be so sanguine about him, especially not when we’d gotten Devon back only hours ago.

  Against Azria’s orders, Lucen opened the wine. Normally, alcohol made me chatty, but I let the men take over the conversation, listening to them talk about the future as if our success at locking the Pit was guaranteed. I played along, not feeling nearly as optimistic as they sounded. I wondered if the two of them had always been good actors or if they genuinely believed we would all survive this ordeal.

  In his weakened state, Devon was a total lightweight, and he fell asleep soon after eating. I paced the living room while Lucen made sure Devon had everything he’d need for tomorrow in case he wasn’t feeling better.

  When Lucen emerged from the bedroom, I was staring at a miniature portrait I’d found tucked in the corner of a bookshelf. The painting was no taller than my thumb and not much wider, and the colors had faded. The hairstyle and dress of the woman in it suggested early eighteen hundreds, possibly older. As it was the only item of Devon’s I’d ever seen that wasn’t modern, I assumed it had to have major personal value.

  I showed it to Lucen. “Do you know who this is?”

  “Nope, and don’t think I haven’t asked. Devon doesn’t talk about his past.”

  I returned the portrait to the shelf with a sardonic laugh. “Gee, sounds familiar.”

  Lucen wrapped his arms around me from behind. “We’ve been over your issues with the past. I’m more interested in the future.”

  “Uh-huh. Speaking of, I don’t suppose I can talk you out of a trip to prison with me in the future?” The words fell off my tongue before I could stop them, and I mentally kicked myself for asking after swearing I wouldn’t.

  “There is no way in hell I’m letting you enter that place without me at your side. We’re a team. We’re not going to argue about this, are we?”

  Touching the pendant slash tracking charm he’d given me, I sighed and settled against him. “No. I’ve learned my lesson, and I’m resigned to the inevitable. I promised myself I wouldn’t ask either. It’s just I’m scared of anything happening to you.”

  Lucen pulled my hair back so he could rest his cheek against mine. “I’ve noticed, and I can’t say I don’t worry about the same thing. But I think we need to be—no, we should be—cautiously optimistic here. Look at the progress you’ve made today.”

  “Being able to draw on Claudius’s power guarantees nothing.”

  “No, but it’s a start.” Lucen released me and leaned against the table. “Keep in mind what we’re dealing with. These creatures create and feed on fear. They are the original misery-inducing monsters. The more afraid we are, the stronger they become. Simply the unhappier we are, the easier they can get into our heads. Maybe not yours, but the rest of us.”

  I sucked on my lip, acknowledging his point. It was the same logic I’d used in my struggle with Raj. Fear. Anger. Negativity. I needed to shake these things in order to fight with a clear head. Even if I could eventually channel whatever badass juju these demons launched at me, there was no reason to give them extra weapons. I wasn’t about to become Miss Positivity anytime soon, but if I could let go of the issues that weighed on my s
oul, it could only help.

  If I could be more like Lucen and let go of my past.

  Theoretically, it shouldn’t be too hard. I’d already faced my biggest issues head-on. I’d accepted I wasn’t human. I’d finally achieved my dream of becoming a Gryphon, even if it wasn’t how I’d envisioned it. And my darkest secrets had been exposed, and so far the important people in my world hadn’t shunned me.

  The only issue I hadn’t entirely dealt with was standing nearby. But I’d had an epiphany about my relationship with Lucen while I was in Grenoble, hadn’t I? So I was never going to have anything resembling a normal relationship, but I’d decided I didn’t need normal. A craving for normal was just the crutch I’d been using to prevent myself from fully jumping on the crazy train that was my life. Normal was a way to hide my insecurities about who and what I was. In the end, the only thing that mattered was I’d found someone who loved me as much as I loved him and who had my back no matter what. With that at our core, we could make anything work.

  As long as I confessed the one point that had been nagging at my conscience for a while.

  “Little siren, you lost in your head?” Lucen picked up his keys. “We should get going.”

  “When I was in the Gryphon archives in France, I went searching for information on how to turn preds back into humans.”

  Lucen set the keys down. “Okay. You’re telling me this now—why?”

  I resumed my pacing, hands opening and closing at my sides in agitation. “Because of what you said about letting go of negativity. I needed to get that off my chest so it’s not an issue anymore. I mean, it’s not an issue anymore anyway, but it felt wrong to not tell you what I’d done.”

  He took my hands and pulled me onto the sofa with him. “You went looking for a way to make me human.”

  I nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t my best idea, and I’m sorry for wishing I could change you.”