“I am nothing to you except the woman who’ll hit you if you come any closer. And to answer your question—no. Most of my life I’ve been as affected by their power as anyone.”
“But something happened recently to change that.” Tom almost smiled. “Something to do with Victor Aubrey?”
A zealot—that’s what I was dealing with. His half smile was the proof. He was as crazy as Victor, only in a different way. “You created me. You tell me. I’m just your lab rat.”
“Don’t be absurd. We made you better. Stronger. The Brotherhood toiled for ages to perfect what we did for you and for the human race. That’s why I’m here. As soon as we got an inkling of what you might be capable of, I was flown to Boston to investigate.”
“You didn’t make me better. You made me into a freak and an outcast. You made me miserable. You made me so it was impossible for me to have a normal life. And all the while you agonized over your own fucking choice, you never gave me one.”
Tom picked up the book again and pressed it on me. “Read this. I know you’re upset, but read it. See for yourself what’s coming. You’ll understand. You have to.”
I tossed the book away. “I understand nothing except that I’ve never been so disgusted in my entire life.” Then I spun around, aiming for the door.
The sound of a blade scraping a scabbard stopped me, and I couldn’t help but look behind me. Tom had removed yet another sword—one I hadn’t seen before—from its sheath. A jolt of fear ran through my blood, but it was nothing. A pinprick overwhelmed by my fury. My hands balled into fists.
Let him try.
The blade’s deathly black sheen cut a line across Tom’s pale face. Holding the hilt in a loose but confident grip, he flipped the sword to make sure I could see the glyphs etched on both sides of the blade. Once he was certain he had my attention, he slid it back into the scabbard. “Your disgust and your anger won’t change anything, Jessica. What’s coming is coming, and when it does you will need us as much as we will need you. Go ahead and walk out that door. When you’ve calmed down and walk back in, I’ll be here.” He flipped the sword around, holding the scabbard and presenting the hilt for me to take.
As if he could buy my forgiveness.
My hands remained in fists at my side. “Don’t count on it. I used to want nothing more than to be a Gryphon. Now I want nothing to ever do with you, or this organization, ever again.”
I charged out of his office, unable to take any more of this conversation. At the end of the hallway, I clutched the wall, fighting for control of my breaths. Tears pricked at my eyes. Reading those files and putting it all together had been one thing. Hearing Tom admit to everything, and without remorse, made it real.
The Gryphons had done this to me. The people I trusted—the people humans everywhere trusted—to protect us from preds and curses and evil magic had turned that magic on me. Had betrayed me in a way I’d never imagined possible.
Thank dragons my Gryphon father was dead. He hadn’t been a member of this secret group, and I hoped he hadn’t known and would never have allowed them to do this to me. For the first time in my life, I was glad he wasn’t around so I couldn’t confront him about it.
When I got my wits together at last and no longer felt as though I was going to hurl, I headed toward the stairwell. Plowing down the fifth-floor hallway, I ignored everyone who acknowledged me, including Olivia Lee’s secretary.
The woman flagged me down as I opened the Director’s door. “You can’t barge in…”
But I could because I had. Because I no longer cared.
Like Tom had been, the Director was on the phone. Maybe she was on with him and he was warning her that a crazy woman was in the building. That would certainly be irony given my new opinion of Tom.
Olivia hung up right as I threw my Gryphon windbreaker at her face. “I quit.”
“Jessica—”
“You can threaten me with all the prison time in the world, but I promise you this—if I’m arrested, I will take everything I know about Le Confrérie de l’Aile public. I will tell the world about the secret experiments they conducted on me, Victor Aubrey, and at least three other people that I’m aware of, when we were children. I have proof, and I don’t care about all the good your precious Order does for humanity. It doesn’t make you above the law or give you a moral blank check to cash in as you please. So I’m done. Call my bluff if you want, but you’ll regret it.”
Olivia set the jacket neatly on her desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ask Agent Kassin then. I’m sure he’d love to fill you in on how the end of the world is coming.” Then I spun around and left, and my world spun with me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lucen was awake when I got back to his place. He sat on the sofa, my laptop in front of him. I’d never shut it down when I left, and the files must have been open.
Before I could explain, he ran over to me. “Little siren.”
I wrapped my arms around him. Maybe it was because I was so distraught, or because of the aftereffects of last night’s magical cocktails, but for the first time all I felt was comfort in his arms. He held me tightly, silently, and I buried my head against his chest, listening to him breathe. We stood there for a while.
I never wanted to let go, but I’d had thoughts on the way here. Many thoughts. Many painful thoughts. Lucen had obviously read through my file and drawn the same conclusions I had, so it was time to get those thoughts off my shoulders. “You read it all?”
Lucen let go of me. “Everything. It’s sure interesting reading. Jess, this wasn’t a curse that warped your gift.”
“Oh, I know.” I flopped on the sofa. “I’ve known that for a while. I just didn’t know it was the Gryphons behind it all.”
Lucen paused. “You knew you weren’t cursed? Since when?”
“Long story.” He would certainly freak out if I told him I’d made a bargain with the goblin’s Dom for the information, so it was best to gloss over that part for the moment. “Bottom line is I found out I was part satyr about a month ago. It kind of explains everything about the compulsions at Purgatory, huh? I wasn’t trying to lie last night when I didn’t tell you. I just hadn’t found the right time.”
He sat next to me and took my hand. “Fair enough, I guess. But little siren, you’re not part satyr. You’re all satyr.”
I entwined my fingers through his and didn’t say anything for a moment. All satyr? No way. Gunthra had called me a hybrid, and I’d been clinging to the fact that I didn’t have horns and didn’t need to feed on addicts as proof I was somewhat human. “I can’t be. There are so many ways I’m not like you. I’m a hybrid, maybe.”
“I’d say more like a different subspecies. Transformed is transformed. If you’re not dead, you’re no longer human. There’s no hybrid or part. Do you even know if you could survive on your own, cut off from humanity?”
I rested my head in my hands. “No, I don’t.”
Much as I hated to admit it, Lucen’s description sounded more accurate than Gunthra’s. And I had to face the facts—in the end, it didn’t matter. Addicts, no, I didn’t need those. But I chose to live in an urban area. I chose to be around lots of people. I had no idea how well I’d fare without that constant source of misery to fuel me. Maybe I wasn’t as unlike him as I pretended.
“Jess.” Lucen put a hand on my back.
“I’m okay. There’s a few more things I need to tell you.”
He kissed my forehead. “If there’s more, I need a drink. I think you do too.”
“I won’t argue. It’s been a hell of a couple days. Speaking of, what’s happening with the Lucrezia aftermath? What did I miss last night?” I was curious, but more than that. I wasn’t looking forward to my next confession.
Lucen returned to the living room with two cocktail glasses and a bottle
of bourbon. “Never mind Lucrezia. What else is going on with you? That’s what I care about. I need to know you’re okay with all of this.”
I downed the first shot he poured me. Alcohol burned my throat, and my muscles relaxed. “I’m fine, really. Can’t you tell?”
“I admit, you are calmer than I’d have expected.”
“Well, you missed my ragey wrath. I left for the Gryphons before you were up, and the stuff about what I was—as I said, I already knew. I vented all my anger on the Gryphons earlier.”
“Ah, right. So what else is there that I should know?”
This was the difficult part. Gunthra had called me an abomination. While I didn’t think—very much hoped—that Lucen wouldn’t share her view, telling him about the most interesting part of my abilities made me nervous. “Did you ever figure out what happened between me and that fury who addicted me when we took down Victor?”
“Figured it out? He released you quickly. Was there more?”
“Yeah, actually. The reason he released me so fast is because I’m an abomination.” I made air quotes around the word and forced a smile, although I wasn’t fooling Lucen. “People like me aren’t supposed to be able to survive the transformation, but when we do, we have unique abilities.”
“So much is clear.”
I wet my lips. “I flipped the bond between myself and the fury. I can’t create a bond with another pred, but if they create one with me, I can addict them. The fury cut me loose because I was stealing all his power.”
After a moment of staring at me, Lucen grabbed the bourbon and poured us both another drink. “Wow. You are full of surprises. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I don’t think many people have.” I watched his face for a moment. It was curiously blank as he stared into his drink.
Finally, he set it down, untouched. “So the truth comes out at long last. It’s never been about whether you trust me. This is the reason you’re not afraid around us anymore.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I trusted you. But others? No. This makes me less vulnerable though. I feel less like a piece of cattle around this place. More like an abomination.”
He squeezed my hand. “You are not an abomination.”
“Oh, I don’t know. To some I am, and I’m okay with it, I guess. So long as I’m not to you, that’s what counts.”
“Never.” He pulled me closer. “To me, you are the crazy-but-fascinating, beautiful-but-infuriating woman who’s burrowed her way into my dark, depraved heart over the last ten years.”
I curled up, half on his lap, and placed my hand over that heart. “Good thing I like dark and depraved. But you should also know that I’m supposed to be the Gryphons’ savior.”
“You’re fairly amazing, little siren, but savior might be taking it a bit too far.”
“Uh-huh.” I didn’t touch my second drink until I filled Lucen in on everything Tom had told me. “My life keeps getting crazier and crazier.”
“It does.” He scratched his chin, lost in thought. “What the Gryphons did to you is horrible, and much as I want to say I told you so, have you considered that there might be something to this prophecy?”
I took his empty glass from him and set it on the table. “No, and if you’re considering it, you’ve had enough to drink. I quit the Gryphons. I told Olivia Lee where she could shove her job and that I’d go public with everything if they arrested me.”
“Really?” Whatever thought Lucen had given to the bullshit prophecy vanished. His face brightened with a beautiful grin. “Now you’re talking sense.”
“I figured you’d agree.” I climbed the rest of the way on top of him and draped my arms around his neck. “Here’s the wrap-up. I’ve been thinking—I’ve tried to be a good Gryphon and a good human, and this was what I got for my efforts. So I’m done. I want to be a good satyr, hybrid, subspecies, whatever. I want to be good to us, and I’m ready to embrace what I really am to make that happen.”
I’d barely finished speaking when Lucen caught my lips with his own and stole the rest of my breath. His hands reached under my hair, pulling me closer, and I sank deeper into him, relishing that cinnamon scent of his and reveling in the way my body came alive. Blissfully this time. Perfectly.
He ran his teeth over my lips, and I held my breath. Then his mouth nibbled and licked its way down my throat, and I moaned with anticipation. Sliding my fingers through his hair, I pressed against him. Tighter and closer. Longing to envelop him. I could feel him growing harder, and my body answered in kind. Desire welled in me and pooled between my legs, and my body writhed with the building heat.
If I couldn’t be human, I was going to enjoy learning to be a satyr.
He pulled away then, but his hands slipped under my shirt and unclasped my bra. “I want you to know, little siren, I fully support this idea and will do all I can to help.”
“Shocking.”
He grinned and in one swift motion tugged my shirt over my head. My bra followed it to the floor. Then his fingers cupped my breasts, and his lips caressed my nipple, his tongue swirling around it, teasing and tugging until it was so hard I seethed with the ache.
He turned from the left to the right as I ran my nails against his back, clawing at him for more. When he raised his head and wet his lips, I lifted his shirt, desperate for the touch of his skin, to feel the hard ridges of his muscles undulating beneath my body. His hands seemed to brush every inch of me at once, stoking my desire something fierce.
Gasping, he pushed me back, firm hands squeezing my breasts, his gaze on me like a weight. He was so beautiful already, but more so with that hungry expression on his face. The one that didn’t just seem to look at me, but into me. “You have no idea how happy this makes me. You’re mine, Jess. Just tell me you trust me, that you give yourself over to me, and we can make this work.”
I wanted to scream it, but I could barely manage to whisper, “Yours.” So I took his cheeks in my hands, let my lips and my tongue be my answer, feasting on his flesh while offering up my soul.
He grabbed my ass, pushing my underwear down as he did. My body sang with need for him as his fingers stroked my most sensitive areas, an ache stronger and hotter than anything Lucrezia’s foul magic could conjure, until I was tearing at his pants, panting for the touch of his cock. And when he finally slid inside me, I cried out with that desire, every nerve ablaze.
But as Lucen’s hands guided the rhythm of my hips, two errant memories flitted through my mind, destroying the brutal ecstasy that should have engulfed me. One was of Steph, chastising me for acting too pred-like. The other was of Olef, telling me about his new visions, of cities burning and me at the center of it all.
Something like guilt and fear nipped at my conscience.
“You okay?” Lucen asked.
I tightened my arms around his neck, taking him as far into me as he could go, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Way better than okay.” I entwined his hair around my fingers. “So much better than okay.” I bent my head lower so I could suck the cinnamon salt from his skin.
Lucen’s groan of pleasure sent shocks through me, and he thrust deeper, driving away my annoying thoughts of the rest of the world. Squeezing him tighter between my legs, I closed my eyes and concentrated on him—the only thing I wanted to matter.
About the Author
Tracey Martin grew up outside of Philadelphia, the lucky recipient of a drama-free childhood, which is why she spent so much time reading about other people’s lives. It was while she was working on her doctorate in psychology that she had an epiphany—imaginary people are way more fun than real ones. And so she began writing. Never able to choose just one of anything, she currently writes both urban fantasy for adults and contemporary stories for teens.
She likes her coffee simple, her music epic and her movies to contain explosions. A
city girl at heart, she doesn’t understand how she and her husband ended up living in New Hampshire, but writing keeps her off the mean, small town streets. To learn more, you can visit her website at www.tracey-martin.com, or say hi on twitter at www.twitter.com/TA_Martin.
Look for these titles by Tracey Martin
Now Available:
Miss Misery
Wicked Misery
Coming Soon:
Miss Misery
Misery Loves Company
It’s all quasi-legal fun until somebody gets framed for murder.
Wicked Misery
© 2013 Tracey Martin
Miss Misery, Book 1
Jessica Moore thrives on misery. Literally. Thanks to a goblin’s curse, she gets a magical high from humanity’s suffering. A shameful talent like that could bury a girl in guilt, so to atone, she uses her dark power to hunt murderers, rapists and other scumbags—until one of them frames her for his crimes.
In desperation, Jessica seeks refuge with the one person she trusts to not turn her in—a satyr named Lucen. Like every member of his race, Lucen uses his lusty magic to control Boston’s human population, and Jessica isn’t immune to his power. But the murder victims belonged to a rival race, and when they discover Lucen is harboring Jessica, dodging the cops becomes the least of her problems.
With only five days to find the real killer, Jessica faces a danger far more serious than the brewing magical war. The danger of succumbing to Lucen’s molten seduction.
Warning: Contains a heroine with a lust for misery, creepy murders, and creepier goblins, satyrs so hot you’d sell your soul for one, and scaly sewer rats masquerading as dragons. Who said magic was all sparkles and tiaras?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wicked Misery:
I slumped off the sofa, and my butt hit the floor with a thud. Dull pain flew up my back. Add that to my despair and every pred in a ten-mile radius probably knew I was having a bad night. No wonder Lucen wasn’t touching his wine. I provided enough of a buzz.
Dirty Little Misery (Miss Misery) Page 29