Wicked Misery (Miss Misery) (12 page)

Like finding Greg’s blood and a woman’s heart in my fridge wouldn’t be damning enough? I was so screwed a satyr would be jealous.

I grabbed a water bottle and dug two dollars out of my wallet for the cashier.

“Jess, you there?”

Bracing myself, I stuck the change in my pocket. “No, Bridget. Not anymore.”

Then I hung up and ran like hell.

The train doors opened at the Shadowtown station, and I launched myself out of the car, desperate and stupid. On the ride over it had occurred to me that I was not exactly equipped for this. I had no charms and no weapons. All I had was the cash in my wallet, my phone and the Tallyho’s uniform in my duffel bag. Yeah, I’d thought this through real well.

What I wouldn’t have given for my bike, my knives and my anklet. Hell, I’d have been happy with my leather pants. Since I’d bought them when I was in a bind, they’d become comfort clothes. And damn it, I needed comfort.

Barring that, I’d take a relatively safe place to think.

That was why I’d chosen Shadowtown. It was the one neighborhood in Boston that the Gryphons wouldn’t just sweep through looking for me. They’d come eventually if they believed I was here, but it would be a while before they gathered a small army. Whatever vendetta the sylphs might have against me aside, no pred liked a Gryphon invasion.

So I hoped.

I clattered down the steps to the street and checked the time on my cell. I’d gotten off shift at three. It was now almost four. The Lair wouldn’t open for another hour, but Lucen should be up. Yesterday, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t show my face to him for at least a week. So much for pride.

He picked up on the fourth ring as my panic began anew. “After ten years without a phone call, this is the second time in two days you’ve called me, little siren. Have I finally started growing on you?”

“Yeah, like a tumor. Um…” I collected my thoughts. All around me, a quiet, sleepy Shadowtown was awakening. Thunder rumbled overhead and the wind picked up, scattering leaves near my feet. A couple humans, nonaddicts, were hurrying my way, high-school-age guys by the look. No doubt they were testing their burgeoning manliness by exploring Shadowtown during a time when most of its inhabitants would be tucked in bed. I waited for them to pass.

They gave me furtive glances, probably assuming I was an addict. I rolled my eyes and adjusted the phone against my head. A shadow flickered from the corner of my eye, and I saw the back of a sylph’s head as he or she entered a house. There was a flash of silvery white hair then the door shut. I had to get off the street.

“Jess?”

“Sorry. I’m having a little problem and could use a spot where I could lie low for a bit. Out of the Gryphons’ reach.”

His tone changed. “What’s going on?”

“I’d rather not say in the middle of the street.”

“Can you get to The Lair?”

“I’m looking at it.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Lucen hung up, and I jogged the rest of the way down the block to the bar. He was already outside by the time I got there, looking freshly showered in jeans but no shirt or shoes. His blond waves dripped water on broad shoulders. I winced. He’d better put on a shirt soon or I was going to have a hard time concentrating. Yeah, being framed for murder sounded like it should easily take precedence over a chiseled chest and a six-pack, but only to someone who never spent time around satyrs. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Lucen stood on the stoop next to the bar, holding the front door open. “Come on in.”

“I didn’t know you lived above The Lair.”

“There’s lots you don’t know about me because you’re always running away.”

I squeezed past him, getting a good whiff of his cinnamon-tinged skin and undoubtedly a good dose of his lusty magic. My hands twitched, eager to attach themselves to that broad swath of chest and trace every contour of muscle, to follow that thin line of blond hairs on his stomach to where it disappeared into his waistband and beyond. I dug my nails into my palms. The pain helped, but not as much as usual. “I hate to be rude since you’re doing me a huge favor, but could you put on a shirt?”

“If you insist, or you could take off yours and call it even.”

“I’m being framed for murder. I’ve got more important things to worry about than whether I’m wearing my pretty bra.”

Abruptly, some of my lust subsided, pulled back almost as though a blanket had been tugged off my skin. Lucen gaped at me, his eyes filled with shock.

Could he do that? Keep a handle on his power if he wanted to? Granted, not all my desire had disappeared, but the worst of it had. Damn it, if I didn’t need his goodwill right now—whatever little goodwill a satyr might have, that was—I’d want to kill him for never bothering to do this before.

“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared to the right, and feet pounded up some unseen stairs.

I wandered deeper into his apartment, not expecting to find it so light and airy. The kitchen was immediately to my left. Through a doorway I could see steps, and beyond that a small, tastefully decorated living room. Muted sunlight seeped into the joint kitchen and dining area through linen drapes. I pulled them aside and discovered sliding doors leading onto a small deck that overlooked a parking lot. All in all, not a bad spot. But then, rents in Shadowtown were cheaper than almost anywhere else in the Boston area. For all I knew, Lucen owned this entire building.

He was right in that regard. I’d never bothered to learn much about him. Prolonged conversations had always felt like an invitation for trouble.

With that thought in mind, I plunked myself down at the kitchen table, wondering whether this had been a bad idea of Biblical proportions. Until now, I’d never exactly sought out Lucen’s company. Since the beginning of our relationship, it had always been the other way around. After all, most of the major religions taught that preds were on this planet to tempt humanity to ruin, and I usually saw no point in throwing myself at temptation.

“Cruelty” by The Crüxshadows blared from my duffel bag. I jumped so that I banged my knee on the table. Fingers trembling, I reached for my cell, expecting it be Bridget again. She’d called twice while I was on the T. Instead it was my mother.

I hit talk, cutting off The Crüxshadows mid-beat. “Mom?”

“Jess, is everything all right?” My mother sounded relieved. Nice that one of us was. Her calling now, of all times, set off alarms in my head. Whatever this was about, I’d have to lie to her, and I hated that.

“Everything’s fine.” I took a long drink of water.

“That’s a relief. Bridget Nelson called me a minute ago, and—” I didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. Shit. Already the Gryphons were leaning on my parents, probably worrying my mother half to death. “Anyway, she sounded concerned and wanted to know if I knew where you were. Are you sure everything is okay?”

I clenched my teeth, silently cursing Bridget. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll give her a call.” Not. “And, uh, while you’re here, could you do me a favor? Prod Sam and Jaime a bit to see what they want for their birthdays. I don’t have a clue what to get them.”

Good one, Jess.
Almost as potent as a distraction charm.

My mother would have a heart attack if she knew half of what was going on in my life, current day’s events aside. She’d been relieved when I’d been denied entry into the Gryphons. Although I’d been too furious to get it at the time, I understood now that she’d lived in fear of me following in my father’s footsteps—right down to the whole dying-in-the-line-of-duty part.

Her reaction to me being framed for murder was something I didn’t want to think about.

“I’ll see what I can do,” my mom said. “We’re getting them their own phones. I think twelve’s young still, but Nick’s adamant it’s a good idea.”

No surprise. Nick, my stepfather, was a tech junkie. But this was not the time to debate the proper age for giving kids their own cellphones. I was simply grateful my distraction worked.

Lucen thudded back downstairs and watched me from the kitchen doorway. I swallowed. “Thanks. I’ve got to go. Let me know if Bridget calls again, will you?”

“Sure. But you should call her. She sounded worried.”

“Right. I will. Bye, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Great. I might have fooled her until the end, but saying “love you” was a sure tip off that something was up.

Lucen switched on the ceiling fan and sat across from me. His T-shirt did a fine job of hiding his skin, but his power had returned with him. Maybe it was only the shock then that had numbed it. Maybe I’d get the guts to ask some day.

“Turn off your phone. It makes you traceable. Then tell me what’s going on.”

“It does?” Guess that explained why Bridget kept calling. I powered down the cell and threw it in my bag.

Fifteen minutes later I’d related everything that happened that afternoon.

Lucen drummed his fingers on the table. “So you think the heart they found belongs to one of the murdered addicts? I don’t understand. Why would someone want to frame you for those murders? I can understand that if you lost a bloody bandage at a guy’s house the night he was murdered that might make you a suspect. But the Gryphons are obviously not certain it was your blood on the bandage. And then someone broke into your apartment and hid a heart in your fridge and called the Gryphons on you? That’s just bizarre, even for humans.”

I shrugged. A stray thought itched at the back of my mind, but I was too drained to figure out why. “Who said it was a human who did it? Anyway, what am I going to do? It was probably stupid not to turn myself in, but crap. This looks bad. I can’t afford a lawyer.”

“Don’t turn yourself in, not until we work this out. Really, though, it’s too bad you hadn’t gotten rid of the vial yet.”

“Not sure how much of a difference that would have made given there was a freaking heart in my fridge.”

Lucen ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, it helps connect the crimes. So that doesn’t look good.”

“No. What about what Bridget said about the pred magic in the blood?”

“What about it?”

“Could I have traces of pred magic in my blood? Or does it mean that maybe the sylphs are trying to frame me? Shit—a sylph saw me when I got off the train. What if they discover I’m wanted and decide to turn me in?”

“Not likely, little siren. But if they did see you… Hand me my phone.”

I pushed it across the table.

“I had a discussion with Dezzi last night about this sylph issue. Give me a second?”

What was I going to say? No? I spun the empty water bottle around on the table while Lucen called his Dom.

He didn’t say much after giving her the highlights. “Dezzi and some others will be coming by The Lair in a few. We need to figure out how to handle this.”

Shit. A lair full of satyrs and me without any protection. Giving myself up to the Gryphons might have been the wiser choice. “We?”

“We. Remember what I told you last week? Someone’s trying to start a war. I don’t know how you got dragged into it or why, but it concerns all of us.” He opened the fridge and took out a container of ground beef. “I’ve got to feed Sweetpea.”

I followed him into the living room, wondering who and what Sweetpea was, while he mused. “Any traces of our magic could be yours, but that’s easy enough to find out.” He laughed. “That ought to confuse the Gryphons—human blood with satyr magic in it. It’s more likely than the sylphs trying to frame you. I’m not sure they’re bright enough. The magi, though… The heart really suggests something there.”

That had been his theory before, and my brain itch revealed itself. Of course. I’d never shared everything I overheard in The Feathers because I’d gotten irrationally angry yesterday.

Lucen cursed triumphantly after I informed him of how the Gryphons were hounding Xander. “So that’s why you think the heart belongs to one of the vanity addicts. Dezzi’ll flip.”

Even better—I was going to be surrounded not just by satyrs, but by excited satyrs. More thunder sounded outside, and the first drops of rain hit the windows. Nature was providing a great soundtrack for my mood, but being in Shadowtown meant I wouldn’t be around enough humans to get a buzz from their annoyance.

My fingers clenched and unclenched incessantly as my nervousness swelled. There was no point in feigning confidence, so I opted for distraction. If it had worked on my mother, maybe it would work on me. “I can’t believe you keep a dragon for a pet.” Sweetpea was more attractive than your average scaly sewer rat, but still.

Lucen dumped a clump of the raw meat in Sweetpea’s cage. “Dragons are handy to have around when working charms. Hell of a lot easier to keep one on hand than trying to catch one each time.”

I grunted, unwilling to admit he might have a point. “Do you think—?”

A pounding on the door downstairs interrupted my embarrassing question about protective charms. The entire building shook from the violence. “Open up, Lucen!” someone shouted. “We know she’s in there.”

I froze. Lucen swore. My first wild assumption—that the Gryphons had found me and come to arrest me already—was soon dismissed. My gift could detect no sign of human emotions. That could only mean one thing.