Mystic Ink (9 page)

“It’s not lost. I’m sure it’s around town somewhere.” Cal winced, and Nix banged out the door. He hoped that was true. He waved at Jason.

The smart ass slowly drew his finger across his neck. “Dude, she will gut you if you lost her car.”

“I know.” Cal shook his head and joined Nix out on his motorcycle.

The drive to Toro’s took a few minutes longer than normal while they waited for the old drawbridge to lower. Located on Water Street, across the Mystic River, Toro’s was an old favorite. The place had been open for at least fifty years and, bar none, had the crispiest, most delectable crust on the planet. Cal never missed eating there whenever he was in the area which, sadly, wasn’t very often any more.

After Nix’s memories had been purged and their relationship lost, he had spent time haunting the streets of Mystic, trying to cope with her loss. It didn’t really work. The moping only made his heart ache more. He finally gave up and asked Nereus to assign him to the West Coast. He worked in Northern California, but even that wasn’t far enough away. He asked for a more difficult mission—Africa and the Middle East. The assignments, hardcore and deep undercover, had kept him busy for several decades. Still drowning in grief, his recklessness had nearly cost him his life on several occasions. Eventually he landed on a secluded island off the coast of Africa. There, he tried to drown out his love for Nix by becoming entangled in Amazon Warrior court intrigues. Not a wise decision. If his father hadn’t intervened, he might have become a eunuch.

The drawbridge lowered and traffic moved forward. Vibrations from the grated surface rumbled through the bike, rattling the steering. Nix tightened her grip in response, her warm body pressing deeper against his. Feral signals raced into Cal’s brain. He wanted nothing more than to take her, then and there. Instead, he concentrated on the traffic slowing down in front of him and prayed to every God and Goddess he knew that he would find some clue as to what had happened.

How could someone have taken his soul, if it already belonged to Nix?

Chapter 9

Nix tensed when Cal pulled up to the curbside parking lot of Toro’s Pizza. Tingles raced down the base of her spine. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. The windows were dark, yet it was the middle of the day. A
closed
sign was tacked askew to the shop door. The characteristic aromas of dough and fragrant spices were noticeably absent.

Cal parked the bike and surveyed the area, his hands flexing. Warm energy radiated off his body, his power amped up. “I don’t like this.”

Nix stopped dead in her tracks. “My baby.” The Challenger was parked in the back alley in Toro’s reserved spot. Lucky for Cal, it looked okay. She headed toward it, only to be jerked backward by Cal’s firm grip.

“Later.” Grim-faced, he approached the back door and placed his palm across the flat surface. The slight touch pushed the unlocked door open. Easing into the backroom pantry, Nix followed Cal through the kitchen.

Dead silence greeted them. Along with half-made food and cold pizza ovens. An overturned pan of sauce had congealed on the prep station. Thick splatters of red liquid trailed out the kitchen door.

Nix drew the water from a stack of nearby water bottles, palming its heavy weight into a ball as they approached the dining room. The old floorboards creaked and groaned under their weight. Toro had left the main part of the restaurant in its original state. The old, wide-plank flooring, decorative molding, and wooden clapboards gave it an Eighteenth century feel. He had been reluctant to update, beyond the required amenities like electric lights, heat, and plumbing required for modern building codes. He enjoyed the ambience. Said it reminded him of when he first opened the place.

A furious roar ripped the air around them, rattling the walls, vibrating the floor. Heavy hooves clomped into the room. Loud puffs of breath approached, like an oncoming freight train. Cal slammed into the wall. Delivery, courtesy of an angry black mountain of fur and muscle. Toro had morphed into his full Minotaur form: cloven feet, a bull’s body melded with a man’s chest and abdomen. His bull-like face, twisted with anger and confusion, sported a large welt on his forehead. Someone had whacked him good and hard.

Someone either very powerful or incredibly stupid. Since Nix didn’t see any body parts strewn around, he must have been attacked by another God or God-born entity fast enough to escape Toro’s wrath.

“Toro! No!” Two sharply pointed horns swung toward Nix’s throat. Hot garlic breath assaulted her nostrils. What was she doing? Only a crazy person interfered with a Minotaur and his prey. Not that she would leave Cal to be crushed. Definitely not an option. Nix kept her voice low and calm. “Please, put Cal down. Don’t hurt him.”

Toro’s left hand eased its grip on Cal’s throat. His thick, roped muscles quivered as he slowly regained control over his emotions.

“Nix? That you?” Toro panted heavily. “Head hurts.”

“Please put Cal down. He’s your friend, remember?” Nix heaved a sigh of relief when Cal’s feet touched the ground. “Can I get you some ice for your head?”

When Toro nodded and slumped down to the floor, Nix concentrated on the water ball still in her hand. She adjusted the temperature and froze it. Cal raised his eyebrows as if surprised. It was a trick she had taught herself.

After a few moments of soothing words and gentle ministrations, Toro reverted to his mortal form. A big, burly man, with heavy sideburns and a body builder’s physique, Toro was equally imposing in any guise. Jason had pierced Toro’s nose and lip with thick gold hoops. Gods only knew where else the Minotaur was pierced. Their species was big on self-mutilation and painful body modifications. Nix didn’t really want to know, so she never asked.

“Cal, I’m sorry.” Toro stood up and stuck out his hand. “I lost control.”

Cal accepted the lift up. “No hard feelings. Any ideas on who attacked you?”

“I don’t know. The coward snuck up from behind and bagged my head. He must have spelled me or drugged me because I passed out. When I woke up, I was in the freezer. Before he left, he hit me on the head and set me free to attack.”

Nix jumped up and ran to the front door. The street was deserted on both sides. “We must have just missed him.” She righted an overturned chair and sat down. “This makes no sense. No one knew we were coming here. It was a spur of the moment decision.”

Toro moved around the room, cleaning up furniture. He stopped, sniffing the air. “I smell blood.”

“Where?” Cal circled the area.

“Under here.” Toro pushed a table aside, knelt down and dipped a finger in the blood. After a taste, he announced, “It’s a Satyr.”

“Let me guess. Devlin Ward. He’s the only goat bastard around here,” Nix huffed.

“Fawn,” Cal corrected.

Nix wanted to shout,
who cares
? Goat, fawn . . .

“Nix, please don’t be so prejudiced against us hoofed species,” Toro said.

“I have good reason to feel the way I do about Satyrs.” Except, she didn’t have any concrete details as to why she knew it, but that didn’t matter. Satyrs were vermin. The whole lot of them could jump off a cliff. Nix’s blood boiled. She must have looked as dangerous as she felt because Cal stepped in front of her.

“Nix, let’s stick to the matter at hand.” Cal faced Toro. “Was I here last night?”

Toro wrinkled his heavy brows as if Cal had asked him a trick question. “Of course you were.”

“And was I with anyone?”

“Not at first. You were alone. You sat in that booth by the door.” Toro thought for a moment. “After I brought your pizza, Devlin Ward joined you.”

When Toro didn’t continue, Nix prompted, “And then what happened?”

“Nothing. They talked. I came out to pick up the tray. . .” Toro went silent again. Nix counted backward slowly before her impatience caused more problems. Minotaurs were slow, and rushing them was a bad idea. A frustrated Minotaur could become an angry Minotaur. Not a good thing. Toro was old and well in control of his emotions. Most of the time. But even he had his limits.

“Someone killed the power. Everything went dark. That’s when I was knocked out. The next thing I remember is waking up in the freezer with a big bump and feeling really angry.”

“Where are all your employees?” Nix wandered back toward the kitchen. “Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

“Good question. Let me make a few phone calls.”

After Toro left, Cal stopped Nix from pacing another circuit around the dining room. “I don’t like this. My decision to come to Toro’s was on a whim. Remember, I had planned on spending the night at your beach house.”

“I agree. Too many coincidences. I don’t think Toro knows much else. I say we pay Devlin Ward a visit.” It pained her to say it. Voluntarily visiting a Satyr gave her the shudders, but it was necessary.

“We can wave to Toro on our way out.” Cal headed back through the trashed kitchen and politely held the back door open for her.

Nix looked longingly at her car. She would have to come back for it later.

“I’ll stop by on the way back,” Cal said, as if reading her mind. He seemed to be so in tune with her. Her vow against romantic entanglements wavered. Cal made it easy to like him. Damn.

“Thanks. And Cal, I can’t promise to behave myself with Devlin. But, I’ll try. ” Nix stopped before blurting out
only because of you
.

“Not a problem.” Cal hopped on the bike, patting the passenger seat. “Hop on, adorable.”

A memory flashed, dropping into Nix’s mind like a cold stone. Cal was on the back of a horse, hand outstretched. His words echoed across time . . .
hop on
  . . . Nix took a hesitant step backward, her mind reeling. The image disappeared, as if caught on the wind, then blew away.

“Nix? You okay?” Cal’s worried face appeared in front of hers.

Nix took another step back. What the hell? Was it real? Or a Residual—an after effect of wearing the Destroyer’s Mantle. Wishful thinking brought to life. But why a horse? She hated riding on horses.

Holy hell . . . maybe she was losing her mind. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Cal if they had worked together before. Nereus forbade them from asking or telling about missions, but still . . . What if Cal said no? Then she would really worry about being delusional.

“Let’s go and get this over with.” She brushed by Cal, seating herself on the Harley. The helmet was on her head before he could ask her any more questions. Clearly confused, he joined her, his weight bouncing the shocks.

As they traveled back over the bridge, Nix reaffirmed her decision not to ask. Ignorance was bliss, right?

Fawn’s Pawns was housed in an old brick-clad factory. The building, which took up an entire block, was mainly a warehouse. Devlin kept a relatively small storefront, sacrificing the space so he had enough room to store all his “treasures.” Cal thought of them more as the wreckage of broken dreams and shattered lives.

“I hate Satyrs,” Nix ground out through clenched teeth. The words spoken so softly that Cal wondered if she had meant for him to hear. He knew the reason behind her feelings. He hated pretending ignorance.

Cal offered, “Maybe it would be better if you let me question him. For some reason, he seems intimidated by you.” That remark earned Cal a chuckle.

“Why were you meeting Devlin in the first place?” Nix asked.

He should have known to expect this question. He was surprised she hadn’t asked back at the pizza place. “I asked him to meet with me. It’s related to Delian League business.”

“Meaning, you can’t tell me, right?” Nix sighed, exasperated. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me straight up what my father has you working on.”

“It’s not related to my soul.” At least Cal hoped that was a true statement. He really didn’t want to have to tell Nix about the box of Destroyer archives sitting in his apartment. Or about how Nereus had asked Cal to review the case files for signs of post-traumatic stress. It would only worry Nix. He still hadn’t worked up the courage to read her case file yet. He had left it unopened on his desk, separate from the others. If they survived the next two weeks, then he would take a look at it.

“How do you know? There is obviously something much bigger happening.” Nix hopped off the motorcycle as soon as Cal braked in the parking lot. She tore off the helmet and glared at him. “I’m sick of being kept in the dark. It sucks!”

She marched to the shop door, flung it open with an angry pull, and disappeared inside. Cal silenced the motorcycle’s engine with a twist of the key and followed her inside. He didn’t make it far. The door blew back open. Nix flew into his chest with a hard bang.

“You bitches!” Nix growled, then bounced off him, spring-boarding back inside without a backward glance.

Cal raced in behind her, then stopped dead in the doorway.

Devlin Ward was trussed in thick ropes and suspended from a hook in the ceiling. And he looked
happy
about it. A dopey smile curved his lips, his eyes, dreamy. He was clearly unconcerned about his bondage at the hands of . . . teenaged cheerleaders?

Cal assessed the situation. Nix was tussling with a blonde. The girl’s short, red-pleated skirt flew up over her ass when she roundhouse kicked Nix into a display case. The blonde danced on her feet, her large boobs jiggling. Nix shook off the glass, then lunged at the blonde. Nix’s fist connected with the girl’s chin. Nix clearly had the situation in control and didn’t need Cal’s help.

The remaining cheerleaders poked and prodded Devlin. Their rapid-fire questions and taunts were an unintelligible cacophony of noise. The little skirts swung and flopped as they jumped up to slap and pinch Devlin whenever he failed to answer. Welts and red marks bloomed on his pale skin.

The blond cheerleader and Nix had devolved to hair pulling. No one seemed to notice or care that Cal observed them like it was a three-ringed circus. When a dark haired girl hefted a baseball bat, ready to crack Devlin’s knees, all while he continued to smile, Cal decided an intervention was in order.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Cal shouted above the din. The baseball girl twirled around and focused her gaze on him. She felt wrong . . . sinister. Her blue eyes glinted with an eerie cold light. His nostrils caught the scent of decay, like something rotten crawled out of the trash.

She sauntered his way, her voice carrying a seductive edge. “Hello, handsome. Come to join our party?” She hid the bat behind her back and aimed a burst of erotic magic at his crotch. His body burned with lust. An erection sprang up, unbidden.

Nix yelled. Glass exploded, shattering the illusion the  . . .
Harpy
. . . had woven around him.

“Nix, Harpies!” Cal punched the Harpy’s jaw. She sailed backward, landing on her ass.

“No shit, Sherlock!” Nix dove onto the big-boobed Harpy and pile-drove its head into the hard mahogany countertop. “Torch them or something!”

“My pleasure.” Cal unleashed a controlled fireball under their skirts. Squeals erupted, followed by the stench of burned feathers and blackened fabric. The polyester clothing disintegrated in the flames.

“You will pay for that, Son of Ares,” Big Boobs said, her unsightly nether parts exposed and charred. Bits of red skirt clung to charcoal flesh. Her companions screeched and moaned until Nix doused them with a violent gush of water.

“Get the fuck out of here, before I drown you next,” Nix threatened. Another basketball sized orb of water rose up from the ground at her feet.

The Harpies escaped in a single line, giving Nix and Cal a wide berth. All except for Big Boobs. “Satyr, you
will
tell me about the seal.” She punched Devlin in the nuts on the way out.

Cal whimpered in sympathy as Devlin howled in pain. The spell was broken. The Satyr was left with a nasty case of crushed gonads.

“Did they say something about a seal?” Nix said, peering out the door. Worry tainted her voice. Or maybe it was thoughtfulness. Devlin’s moaning intensified. Poor guy. Even a Satyr didn’t deserve to be trussed like a turkey. Well, at least Devlin didn’t.

“I have no idea.” Cal burned out the ropes and helped Devlin down. Devlin curled into a fetal ball on the floor, whimpering loudly.

“Devlin, what did they want?” Nix loomed over him like an angry storm cloud, water ball still in hand.

“Nix, give him a minute.” Cal gave her hands a pointed stare. “And lose the water.”

Nix reluctantly turned away and shot the water into the parking lot. “Happy now?”

Cal understood Nix’s struggle with Satyrs. The whole situation—no discussion of past missions—was total bullshit. The policy hindered their progress and might impede their ability to stop the impending catastrophe. Maybe he should just tell Nix the truth?

A loud groan from Devlin stopped Cal. “What happened? Is my store trashed?”

Nix muttered, “Figures that’s all he cares about.”

Cal held a finger to his lips for Nix to be quiet. “What did they want? Devlin, don’t drift off.”

“I don’t know. I . . . they were so beautiful . . .”

“Great. This is really so helpful,” Nix snapped. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Nix, why don’t you try and call your mother again,” Cal suggested. Nix was right. Time was slipping away, but her petulant attitude wasn’t helping. After she left, Cal helped Devlin to a battered desk chair. “Spill it, Devlin. Or I’ll let Nix back in here.”

The Satyr flinched. “Okay. Give me a second. My junk still hurts.” Devlin wiggled on the chair like he had ants in his pants, then settled down to speak. “They were waiting for me when I opened today. All pert and luscious.”

When Cal didn’t respond, Devlin kept talking. “The one with the giant rack, she told me she was looking for a special gift. So, I thought, okay. What a great way to start the day. As soon as I unlocked the door and invited them in, wham! They attacked me. Except of course, I didn’t mind,” Devlin said, still clearly confused.

“They spelled you. Harpies can do that, you know.”

Devlin shuddered. “Ugh. Even we Satyrs have standards. No one in their right mind would willingly touch a Harpy.”