by Ciara Graves
Chapter 12
Mercy
Something was wrong.
The cushions beneath me, they weren’t from my beaten down, piece of crap couch. And that smell, it was… strange. Masculine, but I’d smelled it before… where?
I shifted and then gasped as pain exploded over my body. Through the agony, I managed to catch a glimpse of my surroundings. This place, I’d been here—
The Fed.
This was his place, wasn’t it?
Why was I on his couch? Eyes wide open now, I sat up only to fall right back down, cursing as I grabbed my forehead and wished I could pass right back out.
“Good. You’re alive,” a growling voice said from nearby.
Peeking through my hand, and trying to piece together what happened for me to end up here, I found Rafael standing in the kitchen. His back was to me, facing the stove as he cooked. The sounds of meat sizzling filled the apartment, as did the delicious scents of curry and other spices. It that had my mouth watering. I sat up again, slower, my head feeling like my brain was rolling around inside my skull.
“You look like shit,” Rafael said as he leaned on the counter. “Mercy?”
“Thanks, asshole,” I muttered, the words coming out garbled until I cleared my throat. “How did I get here? What—y-you followed me. Didn’t you?”
“You don’t remember anything?” he asked with a tone that said I missed something major.
“No. Last night’s a bit of a blur.”
His eyes narrowed, not out of anger, but concern.
I frowned at that. “What? Just spit it out and stop looking like you swallowed your tongue.”
“You’ve been out for a day and a half.”
I started to laugh, thinking he was giving me shit, but when he didn’t move a muscle, I shook my head until it hurt. A day and a half? That wasn’t possible! I remembered leaving my apartment to go to the nightclub to meet up with Wesley. We were on the top floor, talking… and then… shrieking suddenly filled my ears and I leapt to my feet.
“Gobs!”
Rafael nodded. “Yeah, we were outnumbered. Swarmed by them. They got Wesley, and they threw you over the edge, Mercy. Right off the top floor. You went through a freaking window.”
As soon as he said it, the fight rushed back to me, and I froze as I remembered.
Wesley talking to me. The goblins coming for him, for us all. Trying to get to him. Rot showing up. Rafael had been there the whole time. He’d tried to stop them, too. Then Rot told them to kill me. My eyes shut as I clenched my hands into fists on my thighs, wincing when the memory of being thrown through that window slammed into me all over again. Watching the ground rushing up to meet me—
“Mercy. Snap out of it!”
I jumped as Rafael’s face came back into focus. When had he crossed the room? His hands had hold of my shoulders, and he gave me another solid shake.
I was sure I heard him whisper, “Not again,” but had to have imagined it.
I finally shoved him away, getting to my feet to pace.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I apparently almost died. Give me a break,” I snapped, running my hands through my messy hair. A day and a half. Damian and Gigi. God, how much were the two of them freaking out right now? And it was Tuesday. That meant I was running out of time. Fast. Shit! How did I let this happen? I held out my hands before me, hating myself all over again. Hating myself for what I was, thanks to the asshole who ruined my life and killed my parents.
“You should have died,” Rafael insisted. “But clearly I underestimated what you are.”
“Yeah? And what did you think I was?”
Rumbling, he replied, “Witch.”
“And now?” I asked slowly.
His eyes flared red, and the tension in the apartment rose a few notches.
“You saw something so just spit it out and let’s get this over with.”
“Your magic,” he said quietly. “It wrapped you up, kept you from being killed on impact. When I got to you, it burst into flames and seemed to sink back into you.”
He hesitated and stiffened as I wondered if I should be worried if he was going to attack me or not.
The second either one of us said it out loud, it was going to bring up more questions that I was in no mood to answer. Not now and not to a Fed. Especially one who seemed to have a major aversion to magic.
I glanced past him toward the door, weighing my chances of getting to it before he tried to stop me. My weapons were gone, though. And I was not leaving here without them. A quick glance told me they weren’t anywhere nearby.
“Where’s my gear?”
“Here. Locked up and away from you. Planning on leaving?”
“Why would I stay?” I snapped.
His gaze suddenly darted to my face, the red in his eyes brightening, but there was less anger there now.
“Look, thanks and all that for bringing me back here and letting me crash at your place, but I have to go. There’s people that’ll be looking for me.”
“You expect me just to let you leave?”
“Are you arresting me?” I asked, ready to knock him out if I had to. Not that I was in the best shape at the moment, but I couldn’t stay here any longer.
“And what about what Wesley told you? Or the goblins who clearly want you dead?”
“I can take care of myself,” I argued hotly.
He scoffed as he crossed his arms. “Since I’ve met you, you’ve stirred up a house full of reapers, nearly been blown up by the mage you’re after, and been attacked twice by the same goblin and a shit ton of his buddies. You can’t do this alone, Mercy. A smart person would understand that going home right now, letting that goblin realize you’re actually still alive, is a stupid idea.”
“So what?” I asked, poking him in the chest. “What do you expect me to do? Stay here?” I shrugged as I replayed what he said in my head. Like all the other times, I heard myself revealing a fact I should’ve known better to keep to myself. “And that explosion wasn’t from Liam.”
“Then who was it?”
“I think you know the answer to that already.”
“If you’re that damned powerful, why didn’t you use your magic when you found Liam with my partner?” he demanded. “Or use it to stop the goblins on the roof? If you’re such a strong mage, why do you not use your power like every other bloody one out there?” He stood barely an inch from me, heat pouring off his body in furious waves.
If it hadn’t been obvious before, it was now, how much he hated magic. No, just not magic. Mages. That was just great.
“I have my reasons,” I replied. “And I’m only part mage, so back off.”
“Why do you hate one of your own so much?”
“I could ask you why you hated me speaking about demons, too,” I pointed out. “But you’ll notice I didn’t, so don’t expect me to answer you.”
He hadn’t moved away yet, and those damned eyes of his were focused on my scar again. It made me anxious, and I shifted on my feet. I considered punching him again, if it would get him to move back a bit and give me some room.
“I suppose I should ask why a mage like Liam attacked one of his own,” he murmured.
I said nothing since it wasn’t a question.
“What else are you? Part mage and what?”
“Don’t know,” I lied.
“And you what, hate magic because of what he did to you?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re lying. What aren’t you telling me, mage?” He grabbed my shoulders, not hard, but an array of emotions flitted across his face, and I was left getting lost in those dark brown eyes.
No one knew the full truth of who I was or what happened that night. No one. Not even Damian. Everything Rufus claimed about me, having no real friends, no one in my life… it was all true.
I had Gigi, but how many times had I lied to her about my past, about what I was? The way Rafael continued to hold
me dug in deep, tearing at the wall I’d built around myself to keep me safe. To stop me from caring about anyone. And to keep me from letting anyone in. My eyes slid closed as I imagined finally letting someone, anyone, know the truth. My life was built around lie after lie, and I was tired of it. So damned tired of it all.
“Mercy, answer me,” Rafael whispered, the demand still there, but softer.
Opening my eyes, I ran my fingers along the scar on my face, feeling his eyes on me as I did. In any other circumstance, I would’ve chucked something at his head by now—like my fist—but he wasn’t staring at me in pity, I realized. That look was one of understanding. Of knowing what I’d gone through. I doubted he knew anything, but the way he acted… Rafael was not a fan of magic. I was honestly surprised he’d even brought me back to his place after he saw me use it.
“It’s not exactly mine to control,” I finally told him, forcing my hand away from the scar.
“I saw you use it,” he said. “You admitted to casting magic at the ball, too.”
“When I was younger, I was attacked. Ever since, my magic is not under my control.” I held up my hand to try and call the magic swirling through my veins, but despite my efforts, no fire appeared at my fingertips. There was nothing at all, never was. “The magic manifests at times of high stress. Like being thrown out of a window seven stories up. I’m cursed. Not a mage. Not anymore. So yes, I hate magic unless I absolutely have to use it. And I despise mages. All of them, with a burning passion.”
“Because of Liam?”
I was about to say no but remembered just in time the lie I’d told. “Him and some others. It was a very long time ago.”
“That explains Sunday night then.”
“What do you mean?”
He backed away, running a hand down his face. “Your pulse and breathing were weak when I brought you back here,” he explained. “You were bloody from the window. I cleaned you up the best I could… but when my hand brushed against your scar, you went into some sort of fit. I wasn’t sure what was going on with you.”
Damn. It had been years since I had a reaction that bad. Then again, I hadn’t been near death since my first encounter with a nasty band of banshees. That time, Damian had saved my ass, and I’d been out for nearly a week because my power flared up.
Gigi told me it would always do what was needed to keep me alive, but I had to learn to control it again. I’d seen what my cursed power could do. I wasn’t strong enough to take it back fully. The chances of hurting someone. Killing someone, were too damned high.
“It happens,” I told him. “Why did you bring me here?”
“We have a deal, remember?”
“I do. But still. You don’t like me. I’m not an idiot.” I said it lightly, but the second the words left my mouth, I realized how false they sounded. If he didn’t like me, he would have left me to die with the goblins.
He wouldn’t have tended to my wounds.
He paced away slowly.
I sensed the gears turning in his mind.
When he faced me again, the last remnants of anger were gone, and his rage was in no danger of making an appearance. “Stay here, Mercy. We can still help each other find Liam.”
Leaving was my best option, but Rot was out there, and since I wasn’t the most popular girl in the world right now among most of the supes in this sector, he’d have a very easy time of getting to me again. No one else would stand up for me except Gigi and Rafael, it seemed. Damian would be pissed if I got myself killed, but that’s only because he’d have to find another bounty hunter. I couldn’t stay. I had to get going. That’s what I told myself sternly. I had to take what Wesley told me and use it. The donors. The key was in these donors he claimed went missing. And if they were missing, there would be official case files that only Rafael would have access to. I could tear apart the Underground all I wanted, but as much as I did not want to admit it, the demon was right. Going to the Underworld was asking for trouble. If Rot caught wind I was alive, he’d send his goons after me again, and again, and again. Staying here in the safety of the Fed’s apartment was looking better by the second, as long as I could keep biting my tongue and stop the truth from falling out.
“Goblins,” Rafael mused quietly. “I’ve never seen them attack like that.”
“Swarm?”
“That. And their eyes,” he said, “they were glazed over. Almost as if they weren’t in their right minds.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit lost. “Look, I understand you still don’t trust me. But to be fair, I did let you stay in my place, alone, for the last day and a half while you recovered. You could’ve attacked me either night. And clearly, I could’ve apprehended you and taken you in. Since neither situation happened, at least stay here so we can figure this out. Our best chance to track down Liam is to keep working together. You and I both know it.”
Why did he have to make it sound so reasonable? And logical? Aside from Gigi, I was used to working on my own, and now I was seriously considering taking him up on this offer. That and the deadline for finding Liam was coming up extremely fast. Using the Fed's resources might be the only way to get to the mage and stop myself from having a very bad end of the week.
Everything about the way I’d been living my life was about to change, all because of a mage. Again. But what choice did I have? Oh, that’s right. None. Wesley was gone. Rot was on my ass. And from what Rafael said, he might not be coming after me on his own. The reapers were moving through the Underground. Yeah, shit was changing around here, and there was no use denying a good guy as an ally might not be such a bad idea.
“How about I make you a deal?” he said, striding back to the kitchen, his broad shoulders catching the light. “Stay at least for dinner, we’ll talk over where we both stand with Liam, and if you still want to leave afterward, I’ll let you. But I might not be around to save your ass again.” He had the nerve to wink at me over his shoulder.
I rolled my eyes, unable to keep from checking him out. The tension between us was turning into something else entirely.
How did he manage to make me feel safe? There was a ton he wasn’t telling me, like why he hated magic so much. Or why he’d reacted so furiously to my comment involving demons in the Underground. Whoever this Fed was, he had plenty of secrets, too. That, in itself, made me believe I could trust him. If only a very small bit.
“Sure. Why not. I’m starving anyway. Bathroom. Where is it?” I asked, not acknowledging his comment about saving me.
“Down the hall, first door on the right.”
“Great.” I hadn’t realized how bad I had to pee. Not to mention, I needed a few minutes alone to collect my thoughts and figure out what I was going to do.
Gigi. Getting hold of her was my top priority. Damian could wait until I had more concrete information on Liam’s location. This wasn’t the first time I’d dropped off the grid while going after a target.
I flipped on the lights and closed the door. I turned to find the mirror covered with a blanket.
Rafael seemed to have a temper, but he was a demon. I expected it.
This was something else.
I removed the blanket slowly, waiting to find something weird drawn on the glass. Or who knows what, but instead found a normal mirror. That someone had put their fist through, at some point. There was a hole dead center and cracks that spider-webbed outward from it. Rafael just kept getting more and more interesting by the minute.
After taking care of business, I stood at the sink, staring at the small cuts and bruises on my face and hands. Guess that was what happened when you were thrown out a window. I did look pretty terrible. Plenty of times before, I’d expected to end up dead, but this time, it was too close. And Rafael was a big demon. And strong. If I did run into Rot again with him at my side, I had a damned good chance of walking away.
If not…
I grunted in annoyance as I gripped the edge of the sink, shaking my head at my own reflection. Working with a demon
. Never thought I’d see the day when I’d work with a demon who appeared to be more emotionally unstable than all the others I ever had the chance to meet. And a Fed at that. This was a slippery slope. A very slippery slope. One wrong move and I’d find myself in an interrogation room.
“You can do this,” I told my reflection firmly. “It’s either work with the demon or face down Damian alone.”
Why couldn’t my magic work as I wanted it to? At least then I could blast my way out of trouble. Instead, I relied on firearms and a mouth that spewed more sarcasm than anyone else I knew. Knowing I couldn’t stay in the bathroom and hide all night, I put the blanket over the mirror, turned off the light, and left the small sanctuary.
Back in the kitchen, Rafael was plating up dinner and glanced up as I approached.
“Alright.” I sighed. “I’ll crash here until we catch Liam and get to the bottom of what’s going on with the gobs on two conditions.”
“That was fast,” he commented. “I’m listening.”
“First, I want my gear back. Second, my friend is helping me with this case. I’ll need her to get me a few things. If I can’t venture to my place, then she’ll have to come here. Deal?”
“Can you trust this friend?”
“I do, with my life. But she is a witch. Will that be an issue?”
His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed, but he grunted what passed for a no.
“Perfect. I’ll just give her a call after you give me my gear. I’ll have her swing by tomorrow.”
“Evening,” he said quickly. “I will not have a witch in my apartment when I’m not here.”
“No, but you let a mage crash on your couch.”
His shoulders stiffened.
I coughed roughly, mentally kicking at myself. I did not need to piss him off. “Right, you have a day job. How inconvenient.”
“Do you want me to start gathering the files on missing donors or not?”
“I do,” I replied. “By the way, how did you manage to follow me?”
He shrugged, carrying the plates to the tiny kitchen table. “I’m just that good. Eat. You’ll need your strength back if we’re going to keep up the chase on Liam.”