Black Of Mood (Quentin Black: Shadow Wars #2): Quentin Black World

by JC Andrijeski

  Miri didn’t seem to notice him, though; she was too focused on Cowboy.

  He was watching her pivot and feint, eyes concentrated, when Arden came up behind him and clapped him solidly on the back, making Black jump.

  “She is doing well, brother,” Arden said, leaning closer and speaking over the music. He smiled. “...Very well. She is anticipating almost all of the moves, now.”

  Black nodded back, not answering.

  He noticed when Arden’s eyes got pulled sideways, however.

  Turning, Black watched Arden stare at Angel as she walked up behind them. Her face was still set in an angry scowl as she glared at Black’s back.

  He already regretted some of his words to her, but he wasn’t ready to apologize, either. Feeling a plume of pain off Arden from standing so close to him, Black glanced at the other male in irritation. He caught him staring at Angel a second time, a denser look in his eyes.

  “Jesus,” Black growled, speaking before he could stop himself. “Not you, too.”

  Arden jumped. His eyes darted between Black and Angel, right before a whisper of embarrassment left his light.

  Angel just looked confused.

  “What?” she said angrily. “What the hell did I do now?”

  Black scowled, then turned towards the ring.

  “Miriam?”

  He spoke loudly, and harshly enough that most of the seers and humans who hadn’t yet seen him jumped, turning in surprise.

  Miri froze, still in fighting stance as her eyes swiveled to look at him.

  Trying to get the scowl off his face and failing, Black tapped his watch with his finger.

  “Wrap it up,” he mouthed at her.

  Just then, Cowboy whipped his leg around and kicked her square in the temple.

  “WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with you?” Black’s voice was openly hostile. “I should kick you in the head. See how you like it...”

  I winced at Black’s tone, more than at the words he used. I didn’t turn around. Some part of me was still avoiding him with my eyes and light, in a state of near-panic now that I had to deal with him face-to-face. In that respect, being kicked in the head was almost a blessing. I sat on the edge of the elevated boxing ring, holding a chunk of ice to my temple, which Angel had handed to me wrapped in a gym towel.

  Angel scowled at Black over my shoulder, her mouth hard.

  “Give it a rest, Black,” she called out. “It was an accident.”

  I snuck a glance over my shoulder, still holding the ice to my head. I was startled to find Black glaring with equal fury at Angel.

  “I didn’t ask for your goddamned opinion, Ang!”

  I blinked, my mouth falling open.

  “Maybe I don’t give a shit what you asked for or didn’t ask for,” Angel shot back.

  “Really? And maybe you’re fucking fired.” Black scowled. “I’d like to see you hang around here without me paying your goddamned rent on this building. Or for all of your food and clothes, much less your goddamned salary––”

  “Black!” I stared at him, my jaw slack. He’d always liked Angel. “Black, calm down... Angel’s right. It was an accident.”

  Neither of them spared me so much as a glance.

  Angel’s voice wasn’t any friendlier than Black’s.

  “Go ahead. Fire me, you prick.” Her voice slid a few notches colder. “I don’t need your damned money. And I don’t want it, not if you think it’s some license to talk to me like you own my black ass. And while we’re at it, maybe think about the fact that you threatening me, threatening Cowboy... it’s all just more bullshit to avoid responsibility.”

  When Black looked away, clicking at her in anger, she raised her voice.

  “You distracted her, Black. You’re the reason she got kicked. Not Cowboy. Sure as hell not me.”

  I gave Angel an equally incredulous look, but she only avoided my eyes. She opened her mouth, still looking at Black, but I cut her off before she could continue.

  “Angel,” I said, disbelief in my voice. “Stop.”

  That time, she looked straight at me.

  “Your boyfriend is a fucking head-case!” she snapped, pointing a finger past my shoulder at Black. “You might not mind being his punching bag, but the rest of us do. And yeah, I get it. Where he’s from, he was the member of some, like, totally oppressed race. Poor little Quentin. Woe is him. That doesn’t mean he gets to play lord master and overseer here, to make up for it.”

  She raised her voice, speaking directly to Black.

  “Someone needs to swallow a bottle of Xanax.” Her voice grew more cutting. “Of course, we all know what he really needs is a damned shrink. Work out his mommy and daddy issues, or whatever the hell his problem is...”

  I felt my throat constrict. “Angie.” My voice came out a whisper. “Stop.”

  Behind me, I felt Black’s fury intensify.

  “Boyfriend?” he snapped. “Did you really just call me Miriam’s boyfriend?”

  Angel stared at him in disbelief. “That’s what you got out of what I just said?” She let out a snort. “See a goddamned shrink, Black. Before you hurt someone. Or yourself. Or earn that divorce you seem to so desperately want.”

  I felt another plume of anger expand off Black.

  Pausing at something she saw on his face, Angel gritted her teeth.

  “Every damned one of us knows you need to see someone,” she added. “Miri knows it. She’s just babying you about it, for reasons no one but her understands.” She glared at me, and I flinched, taken aback by the open accusation there. “She’d never let one of us get away with this bullshit... yet somehow her husband ...” She aimed her glare back at Black. “Wins the ‘get out of jail free’ card, no matter how much of a bastard he is.”

  I frowned, giving Angel another disbelieving look.

  Angel was usually the mellow one.

  She was the one who found Black funny, who defended him when Nick grumbled about Black behind his back. Angel hung out with Black on purpose. She joked with him and even sparred with him now and then. They were friends.

  I honestly couldn’t remember ever seeing Angel angry at Black.

  Looking around, I noticed the shuffled feet, and the averted eyes of the rest of Black’s employees. Not just the humans. The seers looked uncomfortable, too.

  They agreed with her.

  Frowning as they avoided my probing stare, I returned my gaze to Angel, feeling her words in a real way that time. Still frowning, I finally looked over my shoulder at Black. He was back to glaring at Cowboy, though, apparently deciding to ignore Angel’s rant.

  “You could’ve fucking killed her,” he growled. “Do you really not understand that?”

  “Sorry, brother.” Cowboy looked mortified. His eyes shifted to me, and the ice I held to my temple. “Sorry, Miri. I really am. I didn’t see you look away.”

  “It’s totally fine,” I assured him. Feeling Black’s anger, I aimed my voice at him. “Black. It was an accident. Stop hovering over Cowboy like you’re going to hurt him.”

  “Fair is fair,” Cowboy muttered.

  I gave Black a harder look and he scowled, walking towards me.

  Before I could say anything, he slid gracefully between the ropes making up the outside of the ring, and hopped down, so that he stood directly in front of me. He more or less pushed Angel out of the way to do it, although he didn’t actually touch her as far as I could see, and he still wouldn’t look at her.

  “You okay?” he said to me. He slid a hand around my face on the unhurt side, holding me gently as he tilted my hurt temple towards his eyes. When I lowered the make-shift ice pack, he frowned, examining the damage with his eyes.

  After another few seconds, he leaned down, kissing my cheek.

  “It looks all right,” he admitted grudgingly. “It’s red, but not very swollen. Does it hurt?”

  I shook my head. “It’s fine. He didn’t kick me full strength.”

  “You went down like he did
.”

  I shrugged, smiling wryly. “I suspect me going down was his goal... not to crack my skull in half. That’s more about aim and balance than it is about force.”

  Black pressed his lips together, but nodded.

  I could tell my words didn’t really make him feel better.

  Even so, the softness of his light, and of his fingers, threw me a lot more than the frown on his lips. After the conversation with Uncle Charles, I could barely hold his gaze. I’d more or less decided to do as my uncle said and not say anything directly to Black, for now at least. It was hard not to look at him differently though. It was hard not to look at his skin too, my eyes scanning every inch that was visible, looking for anything new.

  Still, now that he was in front of me, I wasn’t reacting the way I thought I would.

  I didn’t want to yell at him. I didn’t feel betrayed, angry, hurt, or any of the million other things I thought I’d feel, or that I felt after first talking to Charles. Instead, the hardest thing right then was how badly I wanted to touch him. Protectiveness eclipsed every other impulse. Somehow, all of the emotions I’d felt towards him grew immeasurably softer, too, nearly bringing tears to my eyes.

  His light grew softer, as well, pulling on mine gently as he caressed my jaw, his fingers probing for other injuries.

  When I glanced at Angel, I saw her watching us together, a puzzled frown pursing her lips. The anger in her expression faded somewhat as she watched Black brush the hair gently out of my face. If anything, his light felt cautious with mine, tentative.

  “I’m sorry I distracted you,” he said, when I glanced up at him.

  I smiled for real, clicking my tongue at him. “Everyone’s sorry. Really, I’m all right. We were sparring, not playing chess. I expected a few new bruises.”

  I trailed, my mind stuttering, when a plume of heat left him.

  At my confused look, he kissed me again, on the mouth that time.

  You’ve never done that before. Clicked at me like that. Sexy as hell, doc.

  I blinked at him.

  He didn’t pause on my reaction.

  “Can we go?” He looked me over, and I felt a flicker of that caution on him again. “I need you to change, Miri. Preferably into something a bit more... distracting.” He hesitated then, as if rethinking his words. “Not too distracting. Not last night distracting. Moderately distracting. Lunch-suitable distracting.” Without waiting for my reply, he squeezed my hand. “I’ll wait for you at the bar. Is that all right?”

  I gave him a puzzled look. “Or you could come up with me. I’m not exactly sure what ‘lunch-suitable-moderately-distracting’ means. Especially after last night.”

  Not a good idea, doc, he murmured in my mind. And forget what I said. Wear whatever you want. If you want input, ask Jonas... or one of the other fashion guys.

  When I glanced up at him, made even more curious by that, he kissed my face again, pressing his cheek briefly against mine. Again, the gesture was so soft, so utterly guileless, I felt my heart constrict in my chest. I clung to his arms before he raised his head.

  Are you okay? I sent softly.

  I’m fine, doc. Stop worrying about me.

  I bit my lip, once more unable to hold his gaze.

  “Go on,” he urged. “I’ll be in the bar. I was hoping we could do something together. Before the meeting.” He glanced at his watch. “We have a few hours. But I want to do it now.”

  He hesitated.

  “Please,” he added.

  Nodding, I hid my confusion as I hopped off the edge of the ring’s platform, landing on my feet and once more holding the chunk of ice to my head. It didn’t hurt much; I wore the ice more to keep the small knot there from swelling. I wasn’t keen on showing up for lunch looking like I’d been in a barroom brawl.

  My mind spun around how he was acting.

  Was he himself right now? Or not?

  I forced both thoughts from my mind, unsure which implication upset me more.

  Maybe Angel’s crack about divorce really worried him.

  I glanced at Angel and then at Black, frowning a little, but more in puzzlement than anger. “Be nice,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Both of you.”

  From their faces, they knew I wasn’t kidding.

  Angel folded her arms. Turning, she frowned at Cowboy, anger still hardening her expression. As for Cowboy himself, he leaned against the boxing ropes as he unwound the wrappings from his wrists. His eyes never left me, and his face remained stuck in that guilty, mortified expression. He looked like he was worried I might keel over dead any minute.

  When I glanced at Black, he frowned faintly, watching me look at Cowboy.

  Angel frowned after looking between me and Cowboy, too.

  After another beat of time, I gave up trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with either of them.

  Turning my back, I aimed my feet for the hotel’s elevator.

  17

  NO MORE FUCKING RULES

  BLACK AND ANGEL were leaning against the bar together when I came out of the elevators on the lobby floor, about forty minutes later. I tensed when I saw them sitting on adjacent stools, especially when I saw drinks in their hands––drinks that were clearly alcoholic, and not beer or wine. I tensed more when I saw the frown etched on Black’s face.

  Then I got closer and realized the frown was more thoughtful than angry, and that he was listening to her.

  When I got closer still, I realized Angel was doing most of the talking.

  “...So you think I should just talk to him about it now?” she was saying, when I got close enough to hear. “Or should I wait?”

  Black shrugged, downing another swallow of the amber liquid in the bottom of his glass. His eyes looked clear, but his frown deepened slightly.

  “I think you’d know by now,” he said after another beat. He looked at her. “If this has come up before and your reaction was the same––”

  “But what if it’s just cold feet?” she pressed, looking up at him.

  Her expression was so serious, I held back slightly, keeping my light still.

  “It might be,” Black said, noncommittal.

  She rolled her eyes. “Liar. God, how were you a spy? You are terrible at it.”

  “When’s the date?”

  “Soon,” she said gloomily, resting her forearms on the bar. “I mean, months away. But soon. Soon enough that I should be upstairs on the phone with him right now, planning shit.” She looked up at him. “So you don’t think it’s cold feet?”

  “It could be.”

  There was a silence.

  Then, looking up at his face, Angel let out a humorless laugh.

  “You could at least make an effort to be convincing.”

  “Really? Could I?” Smiling faintly, he grunted, setting down his glass. “Is that a skill you’d really prefer me to hone?”

  “Actually, come to think of it, no.” There was another silence. Then she sighed, staring morosely out over the bar’s tables. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah,” Black agreed, exhaling. “Humans suck.”

  Angel laughed again, shoving at his shoulder.

  I heard the sadness in her laugh though and winced, feeling like a jerk for eavesdropping. I had to guess they were talking about Anthony. Were she and Anthony really having that big of problems? If so, why hadn’t she said anything?

  I watched Angel lean her head briefly on Black’s shoulder, then sigh again, lifting her margarita glass and sucking the last of her drink off the ice. From her expression, she was still thinking, turning over words.

  “Damn it.” Anger touched her voice. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I’m right? About what?” Black grunted. “All I’ve been doing is shoving a mirror at everything you’re saying to me... either agreeing with you or saying nothing at all.” I saw him glance at his watch, frowning. He turned his head towards the elevators and flinched when he saw me standing there.

  As for me, I probably flushed
bright crimson.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  Black slid off his stool, downing the last of his drink before he left his glass on the bar. Nudging Angel with his shoulder, he looked down at her.

  “You want me to call someone?” he said.

  She shook her head, glancing over her shoulder and giving me a wan smile. I saw her wipe her eyes quickly before she turned, though, and felt my concern deepen. She looked at Black, tilting her eyes up to accommodate his height.

  “That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “Nick’s coming. I’ll wait for him.”

  Black nodded. Still looking at her, a faint frown touched his lips. He seemed to make up his mind a second later, and straightened.

  I wasn’t so sure.

  Should I stay with her? I asked him, before he’d started walking towards me.

  He glanced at Angel, then gave me a sharp look. Do you need to?

  How would I know? I sent, exasperated. You were the one talking to her.

  She says she’s okay. Why wouldn’t you believe her?

  I exhaled, but refrained from telling him that men could be idiots.

  Black frowned anyway, enough that he must have heard. After another, shorter pause, he looked back at Angel. “Miri wants to know if she should stay.”

  Angel looked over her shoulder at me, hesitating as she studied my expression. Then, letting out a sigh, she smiled apologetically.

  “I really would rather be alone, doc. I was just trying to reassure Quentin with the Nick thing. The truth is, Nick and I are meeting for work stuff.” Before I could say anything, she raised a hand. “Trust me, I prefer it that way.”

  Meeting her gaze, I believed her that time, and nodded. “Call me if that changes. No matter what time it is. Okay?”

  She nodded, smiling more warmly. “I will. Promise.”

  Black gave me a single nod, as if the issue was closed.

  It wasn’t until he started walking towards me that I really looked at him.