Misery Happens (19 page)

Gasping for breath, I shot up in time to see Mitch wrangle the addict to the floor. In the confusion following the fighting, a couple other people had gotten involved. The man of the pair dashed out the door on the heels of the third addict who was fleeing, and the woman with him expertly helped Mitch bind the wrists of the guy who I’d fought. Andre had already subdued the first addict.

Gingerly, I climbed to my feet and wiped away my blood. “Grace!”

She was lying on her side, and the red soaking through her shirt sleeve was most definitely not tomato sauce. I knelt next to her, searching for the source of the bleeding. She was alive but almost catatonic from pain or fear, and she didn’t move as I tried to help her.

“He got her arm,” Mitch said.

The sirens outside grew louder, and flashing lights were becoming visible down the street. The woman who’d helped Mitch appeared at my side with a bunch of linens that she pressed into Grace’s arm to deal with the bleeding.

For the second time this past week, I soon found myself sipping coffee and giving a statement to both the Gryphons and the police. Since the two patrons who’d helped out were off-duty cops, and Andre was already involved for the Gryphons, the process went a bit smoother than The Feathers’ incident. Plus, this time we had caught two of the perpetrators alive. Not that there was any great mystery as to their motive.

Grace had been whisked away to the closest hospital, but since neither my injuries nor Mitch’s were serious, we were escorted back to headquarters. There was no question of being recognized by the media when we arrived. My disguise charm had been ripped off during the struggle, and thanks to cameras everywhere, the firefight had already hit the news. As we were ushered across the lobby, I heard unfamiliar voices shouting my name. Fortunately, due to security and a seriously on-edge group of Gryphons, no one got near me except Tom.

“This is going to change things.” He punched the button for the fourth floor.

I swished coffee around my mouth, still tasting blood. “How so and how’s Grace?”

“She’s stable. Agent Pagan tells me the speed charms you, Mitch and he were wearing are probably what enabled you to duck in time. Grace never finished having the glyphs drawn on her before she refused our help.” The elevator doors opened, and Tom led the way to a packed conference room. “The addicts who attacked you got their orders from the furies.”

“That’s not exactly a revelation,” Mitch said.

“No,” Tom said, “but the point is that someone among the furies knows the three of you post a significant threat to their plans.”

I repressed a swear. Theo must have told the furies about the prophecy before we caught him. While Raj had been alive, we were considered more useful in that state ourselves. But without Raj to argue against killing us, someone had taken the initiative to remove our threat.

“Peachy. So now what?” I took one of the empty chairs along the wall.

There were no preds in the room, only Gryphons and a couple magi. Ingrid turned my way from where she sat at the head of the table. “Now we move up the timetable. We can’t risk another attack on you and Mitchell, so we leave for the prison gates immediately.”

Chapter Nineteen

So much for my not-really-a-bucket-list list. I’d been given an hour—an hour!—to pull my belongings together and return to headquarters. Ingrid had also stated that I couldn’t leave without a disguise and preferably a couple guards, a restriction that would usually have made me gnash my teeth but which I couldn’t really argue about anymore.

The timing though—that sucked. It wasn’t so bad for Mitch, who only had to grab the suitcase he’d been living out of, but packing aside, I wasn’t ready for this.

“Wait.” I chased after Ingrid when the meeting broke up. “What about the magi and pred volunteers?”

Ingrid kept a brisk pace. She was going along too, and no doubt had her own preparations to make. “The magi recruits will be meeting us in France. They are not Americans. As for the preds, we’re not waiting. The local Doms and council members have been informed of the change in plans. They have had ample opportunity to choose their recruits. If they want to be a part of this, those people will show up by the deadline we provided. Otherwise, they can provide people who are local to where we are going, like the magi.”

Well, that was that. I didn’t know whether to be relieved that Lucen likely wouldn’t be able to leave on such short notice or sad that I’d be without his company. Some part of me had wanted him by my side in spite of the risks. I mentally slapped it for being so selfish.

Still, I intended to see him before I left. That was one thing that was nonnegotiable.

I paused by my desk to text him that I was stopping by my apartment, but he rang first. “Little siren, do not leave the building. I heard about what happened, and I do not want you stepping foot into Shadowtown. We have people keeping an eye on your apartment, and the furies are waiting for you. I’m bringing your overnight bag to headquarters. It’s almost packed.”

I dropped to my chair, amused and impressed that he was so far ahead of me. “You’d better have packed me practical underwear this time. I remember what you did the last time you brought me clothes.”

“If you’re referring to when the Gryphons were staking out your old place during the Victor Aubrey fiasco, I think this situation calls for something more sturdy than lace.”

Being hunted for a murder I hadn’t committed should have called for more than the thongs he’d picked out too, but this wasn’t the time get bogged down in butt floss. “Practical is the word of the day. What about you?”

“I’m being very practical and not bothering with superfluous clothing such as underwear.”

“So you’re coming with?”

Lucen must have stepped outside because the traffic noise in the background got louder. “That was the plan and that much hasn’t changed. I’ve got your bag packed with your spare clothes from my place, some supplies and a few presents. I’ll be over shortly.”

My head was spinning, and my heart was torn between being happy to be with him and disappointed that he wasn’t being left behind. The rest of me felt vaguely ill. “Presents?”

“Don’t worry about it. Call your mom, call Steph. Do whatever you need to do. I’ve got the rest. See you soon.”

He hung up, and I swallowed and stared into space for a couple minutes until my brain reminded me that was a stupid waste of time. Lucen was right. I was boarding a plane sooner than I’d like so I’d better get on with it. There might be no time for beer, but there sure was for a few phone calls.

* * * * *

I was fretting over Lucen’s arrival when I got a text that he was downstairs. I’d just gotten off the phone with my mother, and I didn’t bother waiting for the elevator, taking the steps at a dangerous speed instead.

The Gryphons were gathering everyone near the interrogation rooms. When I burst into the one Tom pointed at, I discovered Lucen wasn’t alone. Devon and Gi were with him. Three small travel bags sat by their feet, one of which was mine.

“You’re not all going, are you?” I asked.

Lucen gestured to himself and Gi. “We are. Devon’s not well enough yet, and Dezzi was going to go, but she can’t leave on such short notice.”

“I’m taking her place,” Gi said. “I’m still your bodyguard.”

“I’m glad to have you.” I meant it. Turning to Devon, I added, “Should you be here?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but behind his unconcerned attitude I could sense a tension in his stance. He looked worlds better than he had yesterday, but his clothes hung off him and his eyes lacked their sparkle. That might have said more about his state of mind, however, than his health. “I had to see you both off.”

“Are these the presents you mentioned?” I asked Lucen, referring to Devon and Gi.

“He’s one of them.” Lucen poked Devon. “The other one is in your bag. It’s from Angelia.”

“Angelia?” Angelia was a sweet, dangerously sexy satyr who Dezzi had accepted into her domus when Angelia’s old Dom had tossed her out for being blinded. She was also the satyrs’ reigning drug queen. She made an illegal charm called F, but she was—supposedly—devoted to working on making it safer to use. We’d hung out a couple times, but our friendship was tenuous given my position with the Gryphons.

Surprised and curious, I opened my backpack and found a small charm vial lying on top of my clothes. The contents were peachy orange and odorless, and I had no idea what it was. Nor, for that matter, why Angelia would give me a gift.

“Angelia called it a kiss,” Lucen said, seemingly as perplexed as I was. “She said it’s meant to be drunk, and you should save it for when you need one.”

“Okay then.” If anything, that explanation was more confusing than enlightening, and I tucked the vial deeper into my bag. I didn’t expect the Gryphons to search me for illegal charms, and I didn’t know if this was actually illegal, but better safe than sorry. Particularly when one of Boston’s most wanted satyrs was involved.

Out in the hallway, I could hear Ingrid had arrived and orders were being passed around. It sounded as though we’d be leaving for the airport soon. Devon must have had the same thought because he said his goodbyes to the men, then dragged me with him into a relatively quiet corner in the hallway, away from Lucen and the Gryphons.

It was obvious when he moved how much he still needed to recover. His usual cocky swagger was gone, and I wondered if his health was part of the reason Dezzi had opted to stay in Boston after all. Devon was her backup, and if not Devon, Lucen. Much as she might want to join the fight, she shouldn’t leave without one of them being available and at full strength.

He took my hands, pressing me against the wall. “I’ve already threatened Lucen that if he doesn’t bring you back safely, I’m feeding what’s left of his prized three-hundred-dollar bottle of scotch to Sweetpea.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “He’s leaving while there’s some of that left?”

“I have it in my custody for safekeeping. So now…” Devon let go of my hand and cupped my cheek, lifting my chin so I was gazing into his eyes. “You remember that outstanding favor you owe me?”

“You mean the thing about how I owe you for destroying Purgatory?”

Devon cringed. “No, but thank you for reminding me of that. I’m talking about the three favors you owed me for spying on you-know-who before our last adventure in France.”

You-know-who, AKA Claudius, chose that moment to show up, which explained Devon’s word choice. Raia had arrived too, along with two of her addict bodyguards who I hadn’t seen in a while.

I turned away from Claudius’s ever-disapproving gaze and recalled the incident Devon was referring to. “I paid off those favors. One that very night, and the other our first night in Grenoble when, if you recall, you were in rather dire straits.”

Devon had flown to France without much preparation, including no addicts. As a result, he’d been more wound up with sexual tension than your average teenage boy. In spite of my exhaustion, I’d spent considerable time helping him alleviate his distress that night.

The memory got me wondering—how were Lucen and Gi going to survive this trip without addicts?

“You paid off two of your debts.” Devon smiled endearingly. “For your last one, I want you to pay it off by bringing Lucen back alive.”

I swallowed, touched by the sweetness of the sentiment and overwhelmed once more by the fear that I could lose Lucen. “You know I’m going to try. I wish he wasn’t coming.”

Devon rested his forehead against mine. “I do know, and I know there’s no way he’d let you go without him. I can’t say I wish I was going too, but having to hang back and watch you both risk your lives this way isn’t what I’d have chosen.”

“I believe it.”

“We’re heading out in five minutes,” one of the Gryphons called.

I tensed, and Devon leaned forward and kissed me. The warmth of his lips soothed my muscles, and I relaxed into him, pulling him closer.
This could be it. This might be the last time…
I shut up the horrible voice by kissing Devon harder, not caring which of the Gryphons saw.

Silently sobbing inside, I watched Devon leave a minute later, still feeling his arms wrapped around me and the final, chaste kiss he’d planted on my cheek. Forcing myself to focus, I returned to Lucen and Gi. Raia and her addicts had joined them, and I noticed the addicts carried three overnight bags. One of them was clearly hers.

Two other addicts, one man and one woman, had gathered with the group as well. The man I recognized as one of Lucen’s, and I tried not to dwell on that, going so far as to nod a polite greeting his way. He probably didn’t know who I was—and I didn’t know his name—but this was our lives. I wasn’t going to be a jealous idiot about it. Not anymore.

I assumed the other addict was one of Gi’s, and since they both had bags as well, this answered the question that had occurred to me in the hallway. It was Raia’s presence that surprised me the most. “I didn’t realize you were going.”

“I had not planned to,” she said, accepting a cup of coffee from one of her men. “But I had anticipated providing you, Mitchell and the other satyrs with some additional charms before leaving. I will do that on the plane.”

“Sounds good.” Unlike the addicts, I welcomed more magic.

* * * * *

Considering the kind of day it had been, we made it to the airport and across the Atlantic with a shocking lack of drama, particularly given the makeup of our group. Besides the Gryphons and satyrs, Gunthra had come through and supplied us with two fierce-looking goblin warriors. The Gryphons had one of their own jets waiting for us at Logan Airport, and it wasn’t quite large enough to comfortably hold everyone, plus the preds’ addicts. The task awaiting us, however, was enough to smooth over the weirdest aspects of this alliance.

As promised, Raia added to and enhanced several of my glyphs, as well as Mitch’s, Lucen’s, Gi’s and any Gryphon who was brave enough to let her help. Otherwise, she refrained from participating in the preparations, which were many. The strategizing that should have taken place before we left was held in the air while the six addicts, who had no clue what was going on, hung out unhappily in the back of the plane. I felt badly for them but didn’t know what to suggest to improve their situation, and I didn’t have much energy to ponder it since I was bogged down in the planning.

Without enough sleep the night before, I was groggy when we landed in an airport much closer to Grenoble than the one I’d flown into last time. I had a feeling Tom and Ingrid would have pressed on to our final destination if it weren’t for a few practical matters that needed tending. We had to wait for the magi to arrive, and the members of World’s p-squad to be brought into the loop. While those things happened, I got some sleep at last.

But hardly enough. Before I knew it, I was armed and our caravan was heading toward the site where the furies had opened the Pit a couple weeks ago. Although neither Raia nor any of the addicts came along, we were a sizable group and we filled several vehicles with ourselves and supplies.

Since the time I’d been drugged and brought there against my will, the Gryphons had taken over the grounds surrounding the Pit’s opening. The house I’d been held at was actually a castle nestled in the Alps and used as a private residence. The closest town was twenty minutes away on narrow, winding roads that were surrounded by countryside. I was assured by the Grenoble-based Gryphons that during the winter, the town was hopping with skiers. But this time of year the quaint hotels and decorative shops saw fewer tourists.

The castle had been the ideal location for the furies to set up their work—secluded but with easy access to civilization should they need it. A decaying chapel on the old grounds had served as the perfect location for the elaborate spell the furies had needed to cast as well.

Our plan thus far was simple. The Gryphons on site had already been sent the five Vessels of Making, and they’d begun as much of the Pit’s relocking spell as could be accomplished ahead of time. Once we arrived, we would attempt one last prep session, then the Gryphons and magi would get to work on the final piece of it. A small group, including me, would then enter the Pit to search for the key. It sounded so simple, but I expected it to be anything but.

Nerves had kept me from sleeping well, and my eyes were closing involuntarily as our cars sped along the quiet roads. At first, I fought sleep, believing I should remain alert, but the battle was futile. I was just drifting off when Mitch whispered my name. Yawning, I stretched my cramped legs and tried to figure out what was going on. Something was definitely up, as evidenced by the Gryphons’ rising anxiety.

“Something’s going on,” Mitch murmured unhelpfully.

We were tucked in the back of a long van, and we strained to see out our respective windows, but the landscape provided no clues. Members of the p-squad shifted uneasily, and I could hear Tom speaking rapidly in a low voice up front.

Lucen and the other preds were stuck in a different vehicle, and I didn’t think he was driving, so I shot him a text.
Is something wrong?

He responded quickly.
Must be, but don’t know what.

I took that to mean being able to see better wouldn’t help, so I asked the closest Gryphon and hoped he spoke English. He did but was of no more assistance. Frustrated and growing anxious myself, I settled back and hoped Tom would share the news soon.