Misery Happens (8 page)

“You abilities are impressive.” It was probably the longest string of words Theo had put together in my presence.

I neglected to thank him, letting his other two interrogators handle this. I’d caught him, and I’d serve as a living lie detector, but this wasn’t my show.

Ingrid’s hair was falling out of its messy bun, and her voice was as weary as she looked. “Why, Agent Stephanopoulos?”

Theo folded his hands together, at last turning his attention from me to his boss. “Because I have a family, and they need to be protected.”

“That is what we’re trying to do.” Ingrid leaned over the back of an empty chair, and her reading glasses bobbed against her chest. “That is the mission you interfered with.”

“That is the mission you’re going to fail.” Theo cocked his head toward me. “Her abilities are unusual, but you have no idea how they might actually help. You’re relying on interpretations and translations of a very old text that said an
other
was required to save the world. You don’t know for sure if she’s what was meant. Come on, the furies used her and one of the others like her for their own interests. How can they be useful against the original furies if they can’t defeat a modern one?”

Thanks for the vote of confidence, I thought, but I was too stunned by the length of Theo’s speech to bother with my own words. Besides, it wasn’t as if he were voicing thoughts I hadn’t had myself. My stomach turned, acknowledging that, in many ways, I agreed with him.

Tom slammed a hand onto the metal table. His face was red, and his rage simmered hot beneath the surface, unblockable by the charms he wore. “You passed on information to the furies long before what happened in France. You had no idea whether Jessica and Mitchell could handle them.”

“I had an idea. We’ve read the same prophecies, Kassin. Our interpretations differ. The furies knew what would happen with her power. They know far more about what they’re doing than we do.”

“So they approached you, and you made a deal with them?” Ingrid crossed her arms. She was clearly furious too, but she had a much tighter grip on her feelings.

Theo shrugged. “I have a family to protect. I don’t want the furies to get away with what they’ve done, but they will. They have. We don’t know how to close the Pit, and we don’t have any weapons strong enough to fight the demons when they emerge. I don’t want to lose, but I don’t see how we can win. So yes, for my family’s sake, I threw my lot in with the likely victors. I was promised my wife and children would be protected.”

Tom laughed bitterly. “You can’t trust we might defeat them, but you will trust a fury’s promise?”

“Of course not. I’m not the one here willing to believe in miracles.” Again, his gaze flickered in my direction. “I have a magically binding contract.”

Behind my back, I dug my nails into my palms. The hyper-focused state I’d been in since Raj’s death, the momentum that had pushed me through my tiredness, was evaporating. Along with it came the physical pain of my new cuts, bruises and strained muscles. But worse was the emotional assault.

It would be one thing if I could have been angry with Theo, but any anger I harbored was cool and distant. Rather, it was the same, sickening resignation that I sensed in Theo that had also taken residence in me. More than fear, it was dread. While Tom and Ingrid fumed that Theo had made their chances more dire, my pessimistic heart whispered that he’d only done the smart thing under the circumstances.

How could I be angry when he made valid points? How could I call Theo a coward when I considered Tom a fanatic for believing the opposite of him? Where was my middle ground?

And mostly, how could I claim Theo was wrong when I hadn’t been able to defeat Raj? Or when killing Raj had left me… I dug my nails in deeper, driving away the images of Raj’s blood coating my knife.

Theo spread his hands in a gesture of contrition. “I am sorry I made everyone’s life more dangerous, but I’d do it again. Who do you think the demons are going to target first when they leave the Pit? It’s going to be a massacre, and we and our families will be first in line for the slaughter.”

Chapter Eight

I couldn’t get Theo’s words out of my head as I made my way to Shadowtown.
I don’t want the furies to win, but they will. Our families will be first in line for the slaughter.
The first statement hadn’t been carved in stone yet, but the second struck me as all too likely if they did.

We—mostly Tom—had spent another hour grilling Theo for any new information he might be able to provide. But while Theo willingly coughed up what he knew, it wasn’t much. We got the names of who he assumed were the five ringleaders among the furies, for what that was worth. Technically, they were down to four ringleaders without Raj.

Rather than lock up Theo, Tom and Ingrid decided to keep him nearby in case he could be of use later. He’d be outfitted with both an ankle monitor and a tracking charm, much like mine but not removable, and left in his hotel room under guard. It was the Gryphon’s equivalent of house arrest.

My presence wasn’t necessary to see any of that through, so I finally got to leave. The T system had shut down for the night, and I’d had to call a cab for the ride home. The cabbie was listening to NPR, and although part of me didn’t want to hear unpleasantness, my ears nonetheless perked up when I heard the words HELP Act. Dezzi had mentioned something about that earlier.

“Representative Mark O’Donnell of Massachusetts’ First Congressional District joined colleagues from across the nation today in cosponsoring a bipartisan bill known as the Human Empowerment and Liberty Protection Act or the HELP Act,” the NPR reporter was saying in her perfect diction. “The bill grants humans the right to protect themselves from perceived threats of a magical nature. Supporters claim the bill is merely an extension of current self-defense laws, particularly those known as ‘stand your ground’ laws. Representative O’Donnell had this to say about the proposed bill.”

The cabbie merely tapped his fingers against the wheel, but I leaned forward to hear the radio better. The audio changed to a male voice, presumably O’Donnell’s. “Humans have been forced to accept living in close quarters with those who would prey on them for too long. In light of recent events, it’s become clear that the laws which were supposed to protect humanity from the alleged ‘pred’ races are archaic failures. Everyone has the right to protect themselves from those who would threaten them with bodily harm. We should have the same right to protect ourselves from those who threaten our souls with harm. If you wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a bear that’s attacking you, why should we have to lie down and die if a pred attacks?”

The station switched back to the female reporter. “Critics of the bill stress that the language is too broadly worded, essentially giving humans the right to attack any nonhuman they encounter without fear of legal consequences. The HELP Act is a response to the mass shooting of several satyrs and harpies by a group of humans in Miami two days ago. While none of the injuries were fatal, the incident has spurred more violence and rioting as the debate grows over whether such actions are justified under the circumstances.”

The cabbie grunted, whether in agreement or disgust I couldn’t tell. “World is going to hell.”

“Yeah, it is,” I said, too tired to get sucked into a conversation.

Shit. No wonder Dezzi was concerned about the HELP Act. It sounded like a plan for disaster. There were ways to confirm whether someone had been magically attacked, and therefore if self-defense was justifiable under this law, but those traces of magic in the blood didn’t last long. Ultimately, this law was giving humans the right to attack at will. After all, just standing near a pred was enough to leave magical traces on people.

The sad thing was, though I’d like to blame the hysteria and recent increases in violence on the Pit opening, I strongly suspected this was simply human nature at work. History was full of examples of fearful people committing atrocities. The only difference was that these days all their fear was feeding some ancient demons.

You fed them too, Jess. You had to have your revenge on Raj. You gave into your rage, full of self-righteous fury.

I gritted my teeth and bade the voice in my head to shut up. Raj had attacked me. It was self-defense.

It was a moment you’d been yearning for. A moment you relished.

Except I hadn’t. I’d wanted to, but the blood. So much blood everywhere. I could see Raj’s surprised face. I could…

“You can let me out here.” I needed to move, to burn off the memory with exercise. Exactly what I’d been doing all night.

The cab slowed, and the driver frowned at the quiet street. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

We were a block away from where I’d asked to be dropped off, which was a block away from the edge of Shadowtown. Human cab drivers never liked going into that neighborhood, and when they did, they typically added a surcharge to their fare. But these days, even the surcharge wasn’t enough for most of them. Not at night.

I paid the cabbie and turned toward home. Concentrating on the wail of police sirens in the distance, the aches in my muscles and the eerie deadness all around, I was able to distract myself for several minutes. Imps danced about by the streetlamps, but aside from the lights glowing behind closed curtains, they were the most obvious signs of life. The few businesses that were open seemed to be trying to hide that fact.

A stab of pain pierced my heart as I passed by The Lair. Though it had been closed hours ago, the bar’s neon signs currently lit up a small patch of the street. But it too had opened quietly. The bar’s outdoor seating remained stacked and piled in a corner of the patio. Any patrons were hidden away inside.

Lucen didn’t have much time to manage the place given his other responsibilities lately, but he was trying to keep it open as often as possible. The satyrs liked to congregate there, and it provided a defiant sense of normality that was desperately needed.

Although I was too tired to drink, I was half tempted to pop in myself, but I doubted Lucen was around. What happened with the furies earlier was probably keeping him busy. I hadn’t gotten a reply from him to the text I sent about Theo other than
good
.

Good. It was apparently the word of the night. So why didn’t I feel it? I had no answer to that question, and I didn’t particularly want to dwell on it. Picking up my pace, I swatted at a curious imp and kept going.

About ten feet past The Lair’s entrance, Lucen called out to me. “Little siren.”

He didn’t need to yell to be heard these days, and I spun around. “I wasn’t expecting to see you there.”

Lucen had changed into his third outfit of the day, and the only reminder of our earlier fights was the small dab of white goo on his left cheek. That was the magical bandage preds used to heal skin broken by salamander fire blades.

Lucen stepped past a stack of chairs, holding out a hand to me. “Dezzi wanted to meet about what happened, and since I was going to be here, I figured I might as well open for a few hours.” He gestured to me with the open hand.

“I’m tired. I should sleep. Tomorrow’s not going to be any easier.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No rest for the wicked lately. But we should talk.”

The light changed down the street and a couple cars blew by, tossing hair in my face with their wind. I started to ask what we were supposed to talk about, but Lucen’s stare was getting to me. Whether talk, sleep or none of the above, I’d prefer being around him for it.

“Damn you and your persuasiveness,” I told him, clomping down the steps.

He held open the door. “How come it was never so easy before?”

“Yet another question I can’t answer. How did you know I was out there?”

“Because I’ve always been able to tell when you’re nearby.” Instead of slipping behind the bar, he took my arm and walked to the far side of the room with me. “These days it’s easier to notice because there aren’t any humans hanging around to cloud the air.”

“So you’re saying I stand out? Peachy.”

“You’ve always stood out, little siren.”

I grimaced. Though Lucen meant it as a good thing, it rarely had felt that way to me. More than ever, it was likely to be a bad thing.
We and our families will be first in line for the slaughter.

Lucen seemed reluctant to let go of me as I took my preferred seat at the end of the bar. In the mirror that faced me, I scanned the room. Dezzi must have left, but a handful of satyrs remained, talking in low voices. Any moment I expected the door to open and Devon to breeze through, but of course that wasn’t happening. As glad as I was that Lucen was attempting to keep some semblance of normality, it was depressing when the normality was all wrong.

He rubbed a warm hand across my back, and I might have melted into the furniture. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really. Was thinking about Devon. Any change?” Raj had cursed Devon unconscious when the satyrs and Gryphons had tried rescuing me in the Alps, and none of the usual counter-curses had revived him. It was one of the many reasons killing Raj should have been a fist-pumping triumph.

Lucen’s hand tensed then resumed its motion. “Not yet. Azria mentioned earlier that she’s working on a new counter-curse. He needs to stop being so lazy and wake the hell up. This isn’t a good time to leave me with his responsibilities on top of my own.”

Lucen’s tone couldn’t rise to the occasion to match his words, and his attempt at humor fell flat, which was unusual but unsurprising. Devon had been his good friend for ages. However furious I was at Raj, and however upset I was about Devon’s situation, it had to be far worse for Lucen.

“This isn’t just about Devon,” Lucen said, and I didn’t need to read his emotions to tell he wanted to change the topic. “Talk to me.”

Yawning, I forced myself to sit up straighter. Barstools made slouching dangerous. “About what? I’m tired, like I said. It’s been a long night.”

“But a productive one.” His left hand joined the right, and he began massaging my shoulders. “You should be happy, and instead you’re sad.”

“Everything here is right and yet wrong.” Briefly, I shared what I’d been thinking, not only about Devon but about the fake normality.

Lucen let me go, and while I spoke, he went behind the bar. “We’ll get it back to being right soon enough.”

Would we? Theo didn’t think so.

When I said nothing in response, Lucen set an empty mug in front of me. “Coffee?”

I shook my head. “It’ll keep me up, and I really do need sleep.”

Lucen poured a mug for himself, another reminder that the world had gone mad. This time of the night—make that early morning—he typically drank beer if he was drinking. He noted my raised eyebrow with a shrug. “I don’t like you being sad, little siren, but I am glad you’re back to normal yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What does that mean?”

“After what happened with Raj…” He paused to sip his coffee, and I got the sense he was waiting for me to jump in. I declined, not wanting to talk about Raj. Alas, that was apparently Lucen’s point. “You’re doing it again since I mentioned his name.”

“Doing what?” Getting irritated?

“Shutting down. Going numb. All that nearly manic energy you were—”

“Manic? I wasn’t manic. I was focused. I was excited to be making progress. I had momentum.”

Lucen pressed my twitchy hands into the wood. “You were making yourself move so fast because if you paused to breathe, you would have to deal with what you did.”

I sucked on my lip. “I did what I had to do. It wasn’t anything more than Raj deserved.”

“I wouldn’t claim otherwise.” He released his death grip on my hands and placed a shot glass in front of me. “You’ve never killed anyone before, have you?” It was a statement masquerading as a question.

I hadn’t, not to my knowledge. I’d gotten into fights, tossed curse grenades at people, hit Gryphons with chairs. I’d shot at preds, but they’d lived. Hell, I’d nearly killed a fury once and had beaten the magic out of his serial killer addict. Yet despite that, all of which had been done in self-defense or defense of others, my kill tally was zero.

Funny how I’d never even thought about having a kill tally until tonight.

My silence spoke for me as Lucen poured some top-shelf bourbon into the shot glass. “Drink it.”

“I don’t need—”

“Just do it. Believe me, I’m not recommending you make a habit of treating your moral conflicts with alcohol, but you’re not going to sleep tonight without some help. I’ve seen enough people go through what you’re dealing with.”

I sighed and sipped the bourbon. Lucen had killed people before. He was old enough to have lived through more brutal times, and pred-on-pred violence remained a depressingly regular part of life in Shadowtown and similar communities. Each domus operated like its own little mob competing for addicts and power, and most humans were blissfully unaware of what went on. The façade of peace preds maintained was a shallow one. It existed primarily because they despised the Gryphons and magi more than each other.

That Lucen had risen to his position in such a society was indicative of his intelligence, his ability to snag useful addicts and undoubtedly a willingness to do the nasty things that had to be done for survival. It didn’t make him a bad person exactly, no more so than any other pred, but there was no question that he’d had to have nurtured a hard exterior to protect the generally kind person who lurked within.

In fact, now that my memory was going down this route, it wasn’t too long ago that I’d seen Lucen decapitate a harpy who was attacking us in bird form. It hadn’t seemed to bother him, although I hadn’t known Lucen as well then. Maybe he had gone home and drank afterward. Maybe he did know that of which he spoke.

Regardless, I wasn’t about to let good bourbon go to waste.

“I wanted Raj dead. I wanted to be the one who killed him. But watching him bleed out…” I closed my eyes, seeing red everywhere, then took another sip. “It wasn’t the satisfaction I expected. And I don’t get it. After everything he did, it shouldn’t bother me. So why does it?”

Lucen’s smile was entirely sympathetic, and he gave my wrist a squeeze. “Because you’re a decent person, Jess. That’s what separates you from Raj. Killing others should never be pleasant. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it gets easier, just like most things the more you do them.”