[M__M 03] Misery Loves Company (7 page)

But someone was waiting for me at my desk. My feet faltered and my good mood evaporated like a puff of dragon smoke.

“Jessica, I see you’re here.” Tom Kassin’s smile was smugger than ever.

In my sleepy daze, I actually took a step back, feeling as though I’d been punched in the gut. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Olivia had told me he was in France.

My heart pounded against my rib cage like it was begging to break free and beat on Tom itself. At my sides, my hands curled into would-be fists. “Yes, I’m back. No thanks to you. Go away.”

“I was hoping your presence here meant you’d rethought your position.” Tom’s accent had confused me at first—part Southern twang, part unidentifiable British. It sounded stronger than ever with both geographical regions right now. Like he’d been honing it just to irritate me. “Apologizing for your outburst seems unlikely, but I do hope we can be colleagues.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Unfortunately, it might come to that.”

I closed my eyes briefly and pushed by him. “Back to your end-of-the-world shit?”

“It’s not shit. It’s real and it concerns you.”

“No. What concerns me is what you did to me, but I’m trying to overlook that so I can help a friend.
That’s
why I’m here. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Coffee. Must get that coffee. I needed to be alert so he couldn’t ambush me again.

I left for the elevator, and Tom followed. “I’ve been in meetings at World since we last spoke.”

“I don’t think ‘spoke’ is the right word.”

“You don’t know how your existence and your gifts have shaken things up. There is a lot you need to know. It’s why I came back yesterday.”

Yesterday? He came back to Boston the same day that I came back to the Gryphons? Coincidence could bite me.

The elevator arrived, and Tom entered on my heels, a short, blond shadow.

“I know all I need to know,” I told him, “which is more than I can say for Director Lee. She’s extremely curious about you and your interest in me, so if you don’t want me yelling it to the heavens, you should leave me alone.”

“Nice try, but I don’t believe you have any desire for the director—or anyone else—to discover the full extent of what you are and what you can do.”

“I’d risk it.” But that was a lie, and Tom didn’t need to be a misery-sucking, quasi-satyr freak to detect it. “Don’t think you’re so clever. You don’t know the full extent of what I can do either.”

Brilliant, because now that I’d told him… I silently cursed my tendency to run off at the mouth when I got angry.

I stormed out of the elevator, thankful that Tom kept silent while we strode through the busy lobby. As soon as I pushed open the doors though, and the building’s A/C gave way to hot summer air, he started up again.

“If you won’t cooperate, Jessica, I’ve been authorized to make you cooperate. But I’d rather it not come to that.”

I paused at the bottom of the steps. “What are you going to do? Arrest me? Isn’t it bad enough that your people worked serious magic on me without my knowledge? Do they think they own me too? And why are you following me? Don’t you have other things to do?”

“If I don’t follow you, I won’t get to speak to you. And no, I don’t. This is what I was sent here to do.”

Peachy. World Headquarters or the Brotherhood or both had sent him to Boston to stalk me. Since that was the case, I gave up.

Tom crossed the street with me and entered the coffee shop. “To answer your other question, we don’t pretend to own you. But I have been tasked with the important job of making you see the light, of making you understand what’s coming and why we created you. You’re not stupid, Jessica. Nor are you devoid of any curiosity. How bad can it be to hear me out? Hate me, if you like, although I had nothing to do with turning you into what you are. But listen. You returned to work for a friend? Listen for your friend’s sake.”

“Why? What’s going to happen to my friend?”

“The same thing that’s going to happen to everyone unless we can stop it.”

I breathed deeply to control my frustration and inhaled the lovely coffee aroma. It alone didn’t wake me up, but it was soothing. As I calmed down, an idea came to me. Toying with it in my head, I placed my order.

Tom waited by the door. I took my time sprinkling cinnamon on my foamed milk, and when I was certain I had my best move, I returned to him. “I’ll make you a deal. You have some information I’m very interested in seeing. If you let me read it, I’ll hear you out.”

Tom regarded me suspiciously. “What sort of information do you want?”

“When we first talked, you told me you were here investigating the furies. I’m curious about that, seeing as I’m the person they framed for murder. I’d like to see those files, if you actually have them.”

He pushed open the door and didn’t say anything until we’d crossed the street once more. “I was investigating the furies, true, although that investigation has been put aside temporarily. I’m not sure there is anything in those files that would interest you.”

“I’d like to be the one to determine that.”

Although Tom must have sported some serious charms that dulled my ability to feed on his emotions, his warm chocolaty suspicion was strong enough for me to notice. Yet he nodded. “I don’t see why that should be a problem. I’ll share the information I have on them, and you’ll devote some time to learning about the magi’s prophecy.”

“Deal.” I sipped my coffee, wondering how many deals with the devil I could make in the space of two days.

Still, I’d known there would be a price to pay to Gunthra, and since Tom wasn’t going to leave me alone, in a way, my plan was kind of genius. Or, at the very least, convenient.

“Let’s go to my office,” Tom said, holding open the door for me. “I’ll get you the files, and we can talk.”

I hid my grimace behind my coffee cup. I wasn’t ready to start this crap today. Fortunately, my phone buzzed with a text, saving me from an immediate need for excuses. “I can’t now. Bridget got us an appointment with a busy lawyer, and we’re leaving ASAP.”

I held the phone up for him as proof because he looked like he needed convincing.

“I’ll be here when you get back.” With that, Tom walked away.

No doubt he would be.

Chapter Eight

Getting to Eric’s lawyer’s office required a drive to New Hampshire. Frankly, after three days in a row of it, I was getting tired of this stretch of I-95.

“He couldn’t do this over the phone?” I grumbled as I got out of the car.

Bridget peeled off her sunglasses as we entered the office lobby. “He refused to discuss client issues over the phone with anyone who wasn’t that client.”

To add insult to injury, or annoyance to irritation as might be more accurate, Eric’s lawyer kept us waiting for an additional twenty minutes even though we’d arrived exactly on time. When a secretary finally ushered us into the guy’s cramped office, I was daydreaming of letting loose a salamander in the building.

Eric’s lawyer was an older man with just the right amount of gray around his temples and wrinkles around his eyes to fulfill every lawyer stereotype I could dredge up. For Eric, he’d have made a perfect stock character, which is what critics usually accused him of writing.

He shook hands with both of us, then gestured for us to take the two chairs in front of his desk. “Your paperwork arrived right before you did. I needed to review it and make sure all the legalities were in order. Protecting client confidentiality is of utmost importance to us. You understand.”

“We do, of course,” Bridget said, and I decided I’d better let her do the talking because I wasn’t as good at faking politeness. “But time is also important if we’re going to have any chance of getting Mr. Marshall’s soul back to him before it’s too late.”

The lawyer folded his hands. “I understand, and I’ve had the pleasure of working for Mr. Marshall for years. Anything I can do to help, I will.”

Not making us drive up here would have been a start, I thought, but I bit my tongue.

If I had to guess based on her bitter impatience, Bridget was thinking the same. “We were hoping you might have a copy of Mr. Marshall’s contract with the goblin in question. That would be the simplest and quickest way to solve the problem.”

The lawyer’s shoulders sagged slightly. “Unfortunately, I don’t. Mr. Marshall hadn’t sent it to me yet.”

“Yet?” Bridget and I both leaned forward. “So it was a recent contract?”

“No, not to my knowledge. I meant Mr. Marshall and I had a meeting scheduled for this week to discuss it. I believe the contract itself is several years old.”

Hope deflated in my chest. We’d assumed as much, but for a brief second, I’d thought we might be wrong. That would have meant we had a longer timetable.

“What were you planning on discussing about it?” Bridget asked.

The lawyer raised a bushy, graying eyebrow. “Is that pertinent to the case?”

“Anything could be pertinent at this point. Anything could be a clue that points us toward the goblin.”

I didn’t see how the discussion was likely to matter, and clearly, neither did Eric’s lawyer, but he shrugged it off. To most people, the Gryphons worked in mysterious ways, and maybe this guy was one of those who put unwarranted faith in them.

“Mr. Marshall was interested in seeing whether there was a way to break the contract. Such proceedings are not my area of expertise, but I was going to take an initial look at it for him and recommend a friend for him to talk to.”

Bridget’s expression was impassive, but her cool surprise mirrored my own. I couldn’t see how this information would help track down the goblin, but at last things became a little clearer. We had a motive.

Bridget spoke my thoughts out loud as we got back in the car a short time later. “If the goblin knew Marshall was trying to break his contract, he might have been worried Eric would be successful. It’s not as though Marshall couldn’t afford to hire the best lawyer to have a crack at it.”

“And even if Eric wasn’t going to be successful, the goblin could have done it out of revenge.”

Bridget turned out of the parking lot, chewing on her lip. “It would be a stupid move to make for revenge. For the average person, the attack might not have been brought to our attention, but for a semi-public figure like Marshall, the goblin should have expected we’d be alerted.”

“Possibly. But to be fair, if Marshall hadn’t been in a very public place when the attack happened, we might not have known it was an attack at all. People would simply have assumed Marshall’s master let him become a ghoul. And besides, we haven’t found the goblin. They might yet get away with it.” I yawned. Coffee was no longer doing it. I needed a nap. “Preds aren’t any smarter than humans. I can definitely see a vengeful pred acting without thinking.”

“No, they aren’t smarter, true. And also like humans, the best way to shake information out of them is to catch them off-guard.” Bridget handed me her phone. “Brian’s number is in there. Call him for me and tell him I want backup to be ready to meet us when we get to Boston.”

Warily, I opened her contact list. “What do we need backup for?”

“We’re going to question the goblin’s Dom. I wanted to avoid this, if possible, but we don’t have the contract or much time left. There’s a decent chance she’ll know who the goblin is.”

“We need…?” Backup for this? I bit my tongue. No point in letting Bridget know that I thought taking a group into Shadowtown to question one goblin was overkill.

Definitely no point in letting her know I’d met Gunthra by myself yesterday.

If she wanted backup? I’d get backup. And hope Gunthra didn’t laugh out loud when she saw me.

After a quick detour through Gryphon headquarters, we were on the road again. Bridget had insisted I get my protective charm updated, and she and the two additional Gryphons who would be our backup armed themselves with salamander fire-forged blades.

Since I didn’t feel like explaining why I didn’t need the charm, I let the lab Gryphon draw a new series of protective glyphs on my back. That was as much defense as I was permitted to bring. Only the real Gryphons got real Gryphon weapons. I thought of my own salamander fire-forged knife, Misery, at my apartment, but I didn’t need it. I mean, my apartment was in Shadowtown, for the love of dragons. I felt silly enough going to an interview with a posse.

Lucen would likely laugh himself to tears if he heard about this.

For the Gryphons though, it was serious business. They had more than the average resistance to pred power, but only I had my immunity. Their protective charms would help, but for them, this was entering enemy territory. Once, I’d have thought no differently, and I tried to focus on that, although it was hard empathizing when their anxiety made me jittery.

Soon enough, the two SUVs pulled up outside of Gunthra’s Gothically weird house. On the way over, I’d explained to Bridget that I was acquainted with the Dom from my stint as the furies’ patsy, but I left out the details, and thankfully Bridget didn’t ask many questions.

It was fairly early for Shadowtown, and the street was quiet. Relegated to the back of the group, I stood with my hands in my pockets, casting glances down the road. Any minute I feared seeing a satyr I knew. Lucen would just laugh, if I was lucky, but Devon would probably try to sabotage my standing with the Gryphons for his own amusement.

Bridget knocked a second time on the heavy door. It opened a moment later, and Gunthra’s servant regarded us with comical disdain, but no surprise. Certainly he and Gunthra had realized who was outside.

“My lady has a very busy morning,” the goblin said. “You will have to set up an appointment for later.”

Bridget’s hand brushed over her knife’s sheath. “Your lady has to answer some questions. We can do it now, or she can come down to headquarters with us. I promise you, that will take far more time.”

The door shut in her face.

The Gryphon standing next to me pulled out a stick of gum. “Always the same game with this one.” He offered the pack around.

Spearmint. Ugh. I was already tasting enough of that because of their nerves, and I held up a hand to decline. “Wouldn’t you need a warrant to bring her in?”

“Not to question her, although it’s easy enough to get one if we need it. But Gunthra’s just playing games. It’s about power. She can’t let us in until we threaten her or else she loses face.”

That sounded about right. The various pred races only got along because they all hated the Gryphons. So they were always watching each other, an eye open for weaknesses. Cooperating with the Gryphons counted.

Gunthra’s door opened again, and the door goblin frowned at us even more deeply than before. With his grayish-brown skin, he looked like a woodcutter had gone a little too deep with his knives and chisels. “She will see you.”

“I expected so,” Bridget said with perfect composure.

I had to give her credit. Internally, she was as rattled as anyone there, but for a change, her subdued manner served her well. Of course, if I could sense her nerves, so could the goblins. But at least she put on a good show.

The goblin’s disdain turned to disgust as he spied me bringing up the rear, and I fought to keep from laughing.

Gunthra, however, was not so discreet in her acknowledgment of me. She was seated on the same couch as she had been yesterday, but there was no tea and treats set out on the table. Nor did the goblin servant close the door behind us after we entered the room. He left it open, and I suspected he, and any security Gunthra kept around, were waiting nearby and listening to every word.

“Miss Moore, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” Her smile was genuine enough. She was enjoying the expressions of surprise she’d elicited from Bridget and the others. “Hard at work, are you?”

“As you can see.”

Fortunately, that was the last thing Gunthra said to me during the conversation that followed. Bridget did her best to get the Dom to cough up information on the goblin who took Eric’s soul, and Gunthra played dumb.

“It’s come to my attention that this thing happened, yes.” Her large eyes shifted my way, and her lips upturned in a sly, not-quite-there smile.
Test me,
she was saying.
Give me a reason to let them know that you were the one who told me.

So I played dumb, too, and let Bridget and the others waste all our time by asking Gunthra questions that she pretended she couldn’t answer.

Five minutes into the most fruitless interrogation ever, Lucen sent me a text. Peachy. He’d arranged for me to meet with Dezzi later. I slipped my phone away, both wishing for the end to Bridget’s questions and that they’d never end so I wouldn’t have to deal with my own interrogation.

Obviously sensing my mood, Gunthra flashed her large eyes my way. “Everything all right, Miss Moore?”

I faked a smile. “Everything’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

Jaw clenched, I waited for her to say something else and expose what she knew about me, but Gunthra was smarter than that. She had to realize if she said anything to make the Gryphons distrust me, it would make getting the files she wanted more difficult.

I gestured for Bridget to get on with it, and soon we were back on the fast track to nowhere.

“That worked real well,” the gum-chewing Gryphon muttered as we left.

Bridget unlocked the car door. Her face remained placid, but I could sense her annoyance. “I didn’t have high hopes, but Gunthra’s on alert and knows we’re taking this seriously. She’s going to want to take care of the problem so we don’t come back. We just need to keep watch on the fallout and try to intervene when we get an opening.”

“How do you keep watch?” I asked, getting in the car.

Bridget didn’t answer until we’d left Shadowtown behind. “There are preds we can put pressure on for information. They act as our eyes and ears on occasion.”

“They don’t simply cooperate, do they?” I couldn’t imagine that.

“No. We have leverage on a few. No different than how the police lean on informants.”

I waited for more information, but Bridget wasn’t forthcoming. Giving up, I changed the subject. “So now what? We wait around and see if Gunthra shakes anything loose?”

“Now, since Marshall’s lawyer was a bust for the contract, I focus on getting access to Marshall’s information other ways. From what you’ve said, it sounds like Marshall’s brother was stonewalling me while he tried to get everything tied up in court. We fight that.”

“How?”

“By making it very clear to the brother that this is a legal investigation and any attempt to block us gaining access to what we need will be considered obstruction. Once we have the legal authority to do so, I take a team and search Marshall’s house for the contract in an official capacity. At the same time, we reach out to the rest of the family, question them and Marshall’s associates. Even if Marshall never spoke a word directly about his addiction to any of them, he might have said something that we can use. He might even have mentioned the goblin by name.”

“And what do I do?”

“I was hoping you could catch up on Shadowtown gossip. Someone’s got to know who Marshall’s master was. Preds talk.”

She had a point. They must, but none had ever done so in my presence. “If the goblins know we’re searching for this person, they’re not going to talk in front of me.”

“But the satyrs and harpies might.”

Maybe. Neither of those races cared for the goblins, but whether they would have any information on which goblin had snagged the famous Eric Marshall for an addict—that was another story.

“Think you can talk to your satyr acquaintances soon?” Bridget asked.

I tapped my phone, pondering the text from Lucen and my meeting with Dezzi later. “Yeah, I can talk to them soon.”

Getting any useful information was another thing entirely.