Hell Bent bm-1

by Devon Monk

  “I think Jeremy is hurting him.”

  Silence. I drank coffee. Not because I had nothing to say. A hurricane of words and rage ignited in my head, pounding to get out. If I said one thing, I’d be yelling. Incoherent. And then I’d kill.

  Dash waited. Didn’t make any sudden moves. Didn’t breathe faster, didn’t elevate his heart rate.

  He was a smart man. A good man. He waited me out while I bitch-slapped my demons.

  I took one last swallow of the coffee and set the empty cup down on the edge of his desk. The cup crumbled into a dusty pile of ceramic.

  And . . . I had my cool back.

  Dash’s eyebrows ticked up. “Maybe I should talk to you about that other thing.”

  I gave him a smile, shook my head. “I never liked that cup.”

  “Noted.”

  “Talk to me about Jeremy.”

  “He and Terric started dating about four months ago. Terric was . . . discreet about it. He tries to keep personal stuff away from work. But about six weeks ago, I came into the office early. Found Terric coming out of the bathroom without his shirt and shoes. He’d slept here most the night. He had burns down his arms—cigarette burns. His wrists were raw and his ribs were black and blue.”

  Ticked it off like a laundry list. No emotion. But his pupils dilated. Dash was pissed about this.

  “Maybe he and the boyfriend like it rough,” I said. “Terric can take care of himself.”

  “I know he can. And he did. By that afternoon, the burns and wrist scars were gone. He wore a T-shirt just so I’d notice. He has Life magic in his blood. He can use it to heal himself.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. I supposed he could, though.

  “I’ve seen him with a lot of men, and never seen a mark on him,” Dash continued. “But every time he’s with Jeremy, he comes in bruised or limping.”

  I shrugged. I just couldn’t picture Terric willingly being abused. There must be more to it than that.

  Dash leaned back a bit. “Shame, he can heal himself. And he does. I think Jeremy makes sure that no matter how fast he heals himself, he still walks away from their time together injured. And too tired to make himself better.”

  “Maybe he just—”

  “Too tired to make himself better,” Dash repeated, “because he’s spent his energy, poured his life into Jeremy.”

  I took a breath, let it out. “Dash, you’re a smart guy. But I think you’re stretching this a bit.”

  “So I looked Jeremy up,” he went on quietly like I’d never said a word. “Records are easy to get ahold of. He used to be into Blood magic. Ran money for some of the drug lords. Big syndicate.”

  Bet I could guess which one.

  “No recent activity of that on his record now. Not since his diagnosis. Cancer, Shame. Brain. Stage three. He’s dying. He’s been dying for years. But in the last four months, he’s gone into complete remission.”

  “Because of Terric,” I said unnecessarily.

  Dash pressed his lips together, then nodded. “I think so, yes.”

  “Okay. Fine. Listen, maybe it looks like a twisted sort of relationship to you”—I held up one finger at his expression—“and to me, but Terric is a grown man. He’s made his choice and lives his life the way he wants. If he didn’t like the guy, he’d walk away in a flat second. You’ve seen him go through boyfriends before.”

  “That’s true. I have. Which is why I’m telling you, this guy is different. He’s hurting Terric, and Terric’s not doing anything about it. You know him, Shame. Better than I do. Does that sound like Terric?”

  “No.”

  That was all I had time to say, because the exterior door opened.

  Dash looked over my shoulder through the window to see who was coming into the office. I didn’t have to look. I’d know that heart, that pulse, that life anywhere. Terric.

  “You killed my ficus,” he called out across the room.

  I stood. Strolled out into the main office. “They were ugly.”

  “They were fragile. And hard to keep alive.”

  “Took care of that. You’re welcome.”

  He dragged his fingers back through his platinum white hair, grabbing at the back of his head before letting go. “It’s coming out of your paycheck.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t work here anymore. Neither,” I said, “do you.”

  “What?” Dash came into the room. “You quit?”

  “No,” Terric said. “I didn’t quit. The Overseer has named a new Head of the Authority. Perfectly normal. The position should change hands every once in a while. Keeps things fresh.” He gave Dash a small smile.

  Dash swallowed several times, not doing a very good job of hiding that the news had shattered something inside him.

  I watched Terric. He didn’t seem to notice Dash was devastated that they wouldn’t be working together anymore.

  “But don’t worry about your job,” Terric said. “Clyde is taking our position, and he’ll need a strong second to keep the continuity of everything flowing. You’ve always been the heart of this place, Dash. I’ll hope you’ll stay.”

  “I . . .” Dash looked down. When he looked back up, he’d pulled it together and didn’t look shaken at all. “Of course. Of course I’ll stay. Have you thought about what you’re going to do next?”

  “Pack,” Terric said. “Take care of some paperwork. Get drunk.”

  “Singing my song, mate,” I said. “Well, except for the packing and paperwork thing.” I offered him the whiskey. He took the bottle, pulled the cork, and then tipped it up for a long, hard drink.

  “Good,” he said, gesturing toward me with the bottle. “Thanks.”

  He started off to his office. With my bottle.

  “Just give me a minute or two, and I’ll be right back out,” he said.

  Then he walked down the hall. With my bottle.

  And shut the door. With my bottle.

  Dash exhaled and folded down on a chair, his palms pressed evenly on his thighs. No more calm heart, his pulse was clattering. “Why?” he asked. “Why would the Overseer take this away from him? It meant . . . everything.”

  “Dash, buddy. It’s going to be okay. Mommy and Daddy will still love you. They just can’t come to work with you anymore.”

  “Fuck you, Shame.”

  Had a little fire behind that. Good. Fire meant I wasn’t going to have to deal with tears.

  “Honestly? It probably has more to do with me than him. I haven’t been pulling my weight lately.”

  “Not everything is about you.” Dash tugged his cuffs, checked the buttons to make sure they were buttoned. They were. Then he got back on his feet. “You want any help packing your desk?”

  “Hell, let’s just set fire to the thing. Nothing there I want.”

  “So I can have the knife?”

  “No. Fine. Get the boxes, Boy Wonder.”

  Dash walked out and down the hall to the storeroom. I stood there for a bit, enjoying the aloneness. Except being this close to Terric meant I wasn’t really alone. I wandered over to my desk. Then I found myself walking instead down to Terric’s office.

  I paused just before his door. I could see him through his office window. Sitting with his desk at his back, bottle resting on his thigh, other hand over his eyes, head bent.

  I should probably just leave. Let him deal with this loss in private.

  Terric lifted the bottle, but instead of drinking, he held it out toward me. Still had his hand over his eyes.

  I opened his office door. Leaned there in the doorway.

  “I don’t want the booze,” I said quietly.

  “Yes, you do.” He took his hand off his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

  “Yeah, I do.” I walked in, took it from his hand. It was a fair share lighter than it’d been just a few minutes ago.

  Tipped it up, took a swallow. Booze went down hot, but the mouthwatering sweet of cinnamon and mint lingered on my lips. Life magic stirred the need i
n my belly. Terric had been drinking out of the bottle. I should have wiped it off before doing the same.

  “I was good at this, Shame,” Terric said. He wasn’t looking at me.

  I sat in the chair against the wall opposite his desk. “You’re still good at this.”

  “We were amazing at it,” he said.

  “True.”

  He didn’t say anything else. I took another swig of the whiskey. Ignored my disappointment that the taste of life was gone.

  A couple minutes ticked by in silence.

  “So, if you don’t need anything,” I started.

  “Just.” Terric turned, held my gaze. Blue eyes darkened by sorrow. “Would you shut up and sit here for a few minutes?”

  I opened my mouth.

  “Please.”

  I closed my mouth. Handed him the bottle. He took another drink and handed it back, swiveling his chair so he could stare out the window.

  I watched him for a minute. Thought about things I could say. Thought about things I probably should have said a long time ago.

  Decided to just do what he asked and kept quiet. I even remembered to wipe the taste of him off the bottle before I took another gulping swallow.

  Chapter 6

  I left Terric in his office and took the half-empty bottle with me. Dash was moving around the office like a cleaning lady who wasn’t sure what to dust first.

  A pile of empty boxes towered next to my desk. Enough to pack away the room, Terric’s office, and probably everything else on this floor of the building.

  Lord.

  “How about you give me a hand?” I said.

  Dash walked over. “I wasn’t sure how much you wanted to pack.”

  “I see that.”

  I gave Dash the whiskey and he turned to place it on a windowsill. Eleanor was back in the room again, and seemed interested in some of the art on the walls.

  “No. Drink,” I said. “You need to relax a little, mate.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Fine, then I need you to relax. A lot.” I gave him a drink-up gesture and turned to the pile of boxes, chose one, and dropped it in front of my desk.

  Listened for the cork, swish of liquid, then cork before I spoke again. “There was something else brought up at the meeting today.”

  I opened a drawer. So that’s where I left my gun.

  “What?” Dash leaned against the windowsill, his shadow stretching out over the boxes.

  “Do you know what Soul Complements are?”

  “Two people who are a perfect match when casting magic.”

  “Good. Anything else?”

  “They’re usually perfect matches in life too. Partners, friends, lovers. But it’s incredibly rare to find that kind of match, especially with magic. Since being even a little unmatched can cause spells to destabilize and blow.”

  “Very good. How many are in Portland?”

  “Just Zayvion and Allie.” Pause. Quieter, “And you and Terric.”

  “Gold star.” I glanced over my shoulder. He took another drink of the whiskey, then set it down on the far side of the windowsill, out of his easy reach.

  “Why?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.

  “The government is suddenly all interested in Soul Complements and what they can do,” I said.

  “Break magic?”

  I nodded. “Overseer is suggesting we get the hell out of town. Out of the country too. Thinks we’re in a lot of danger.”

  He looked over at Terric’s office. Worried.

  Jesus. He didn’t just like Terric. He was harboring much deeper feelings for him.

  It was strange to see someone fall in love with a person you were connected to. I found the best way to deal with it was to ignore the hell out of it.

  Drinking helped too.

  “So you’re saying you’re leaving? He’s leaving?” Dash asked.

  “No, I’m saying we’re going to make some choices. Or I assume we’re going to. Terric is fussy about me making life-and-death decisions when he’s involved.”

  “Is that why you came by today?” Still wasn’t looking at me.

  “I thought so.”

  The door to Terric’s office opened and closed and then I heard his footsteps. Every plant in the room stirred as if a soft wind brushed over them. The damn things grew, vines snaking out half a foot in just a few seconds.

  Someone wasn’t keeping very good control of their Life magic. I wondered if Terric was drunk.

  “Gentlemen,” Terric said with a lift in his voice. “Let’s leave the packing for later. I want lunch. Shame, you’re coming with me even if I have to knock you out and drag you there. Dash, you’re welcome to come if you want.”

  Not drunk yet. He still had his clothes on. Definitely buzzed, though. The day was looking up.

  Dash pushed away from the wall and pressed his fingers down into his front pockets. “No, that’s okay. I’ll stay here and fill a couple of these boxes. See you later this afternoon?”

  Terric nodded. “I should be back.”

  “Don’t count on me,” I said. “But don’t pack the whiskey either.”

  “Wait. Terric?” Dash jogged toward his office. “I have a message for you.”

  He jogged right back with a folder in his hand. “There’s been another missing person report that matches the others.”

  Terric took the folder, opened it. “He looks familiar. Shame?”

  I took the folder. Printout of a missing person report. Paper-clipped to that was a photo of an older man, gray beard and hair, eyes nearly lost in the wrinkles from his smile.

  “I’ve seen him,” I said. “Don’t remember where. And not recently.”

  “So we can rule out the bars and gutters,” Terric said.

  “Look who finally found his sense of humor,” I said. “I’m thinking a while ago. Couple years. Was he part of the Authority?”

  Terric took the folder back and glanced at the name. “Harry Schol. Doesn’t ring a bell. Run his history through our records, will you, Dash?”

  Dash took the folder. “Already on it. You two have a nice lunch.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s going to be swell,” Terric said, taking two tries to pluck his coat off the hook as he made his way to the door.

  “We still have records the police can’t access?” I asked Dash. “I thought there was a total transparency-of-records thing that went down a couple years ago.”

  “Well, there’s transparency,” Dash said with a tilt of the folder, “and there’s the Authority.” He nodded toward Terric.

  I grinned. “Maybe things aren’t all that different after all.” I started off after Terric, caught up to him halfway down the hall.

  “I think I should drive,” I said.

  “I’m fine.” He aimed for the elevator button with exaggerated precision.

  “Just the same, mate, hand over the keys.”

  The elevator door opened and we stepped in, Eleanor behind us.

  “You’ve been drinking,” he said.

  “Sure. Three swallows. You tanked a third of that bottle. I drive, or you’re going alone.”

  “Why is every conversation with you an argument?”

  “Seems a waste of time, doesn’t it? Especially since I’m always right.”

  He leaned one shoulder against the elevator wall, half turned toward me. “Like the time you said Victor was going to give up his place as Head of Faith magic? Or the time you bet Allie—Allie of all people—that you knew what Zayvion was thinking better than she did? Or the time when you bet me I could bring that fossil back to life? Or—”

  “That,” I interrupted, “is why every conversation is an argument. You just can’t let things go.”

  “I can let things go.” He held my gaze, eyes sober and dark with unveiled pain. I looked away.

  “I can’t ignore facts,” he went on. “Or the truth when it’s right in front of me.”

  I stared at my shoes. “You shou
ld practice,” I said quietly, ignoring the slow thud of his heartbeat. “It gets easier.”

  The door split and I couldn’t get through it fast enough. I strode down to the front doors. Pulled sunglasses out of my pocket and got them over my eyes. Stepped out into the daylight.

  Afternoon was rolling toward evening, the sun giving up the fight to clouds. City was in full swing now, plenty of people on the street.

  So many beating hearts.

  Enough that it took me a second to realize Terric was walking in the opposite direction than I was facing.

  “...way, Shamus,” he called back over his shoulder.

  I swore, popped up the collar of my coat, not that it did much to block the living from my notice, but it usually signaled people to stay the hell out of my way.

  He’d found street parking just half a block down, and was waiting by the passenger’s side, one hand on the roof in both a possessive and steadying grip, keys in his other hand.

  “If you scratch it, dent it, or grind one single gear, I will come over to your place every morning at five, steal your curtains, and sing ABBA at the top of my lungs.”

  “Hey, now,” I said, taking the keys from him. “You don’t have to be mean.”

  I unlocked doors and slid behind the driver’s wheel. The car was clean as the day it’d been driven out of the factory, with only the scent of Terric’s cologne indicating someone living owned the thing.

  I wondered, not for the first time, how a person could go through life leaving such a faint mark on the things he possessed.

  He folded down into the passenger seat, buckled his seat belt. “Not a scratch,” he reminded me.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I heard you. Burgers?”

  “Sushi.”

  “Fish and chips.”

  “Vegan.”

  “Over your dead body,” I said. We were quiet while I eased out into traffic.

  “Bar food so neither of us is happy?” I offered.

  “That works.”

  I decided short drive was better than long, so I headed to Paddy’s. We didn’t say anything else until I parked in a loading zone and Terric had a fit about it. I finally relented and found a place a few blocks away.

  Clouds threw gray across the sky, and the wind had picked up. Not as many people on the street here. By the time we reached the bar, I, for one, was glad for the heat of the place.