Sixpence & Whiskey (12 page)

19

In
the morning, I’m tempted to hold onto Tyr for another day, just to thumb my nose at Jack’s ultimatum, but acting like a petulant child isn’t gonna get me anywhere. (If it would, I’d be all over that shit, kicking and screaming).

Instead, I get ready to run to the office. I have a couple of quick errands to do before springing the assassin. I’m just zipping up my white faux-fur hoodie that makes me feel cute as hell (which I am in desperate need of right now) when Carly wanders in.

“Can you give me a ride to Dungeon’s End?” A quirky little shop on the west end that is Carly and her gamer pals’ favorite hangout. She’s over sixty years old, but I’ve never seen a bigger geek. I can’t tease her about it, though, especially with that bright yellow scarf wrapped around her throat, curly red-gold hair bouncing as she plops down on my still unmade bed. Carly’s perpetually stuck at twenty-seven. Just like I will be. If I make it to my birthday.

That’s currently a big
if.

“Sure, pumpkin.” She follows me through the house and outside. I groan when I see the tequila box swaying tipsily on the passenger side. Carly helps me consign old José into the garage and then we’re off. Still with a case of liquid gold in the back, but hey, who knows when some tequila will come in handy.

“Are you really keeping an assassin in the basement of your bar?” Carly asks as I back out of the driveway.

“Well, where else am I gonna keep him? It’s not like I have a specific room for that.”

She laughs softly, but gives me a look full of soft concern.

“You look tired, Sephie.”

“Hey now, I’m going for cute here.” I fluff my hair and give her an arch look over my glasses.

“Well, you do look cute. Cute
and
tired.”

“Blame it on Jack.”

“I always thought you and Jack were absolutely adorable together, you know.”

“What
?
When the hell did you ever see us together?”

“I notice more than you think,
little
sis.” Carly’s meaningful eye roll has me doing a slight double take. “I saw you sneaking out to meet him all the damn time. He’d wait on the sidewalk every night, watching you climb down the trellis and run to him. The way he looked at you when you couldn’t see him…”

With a sigh, Carly leans her head against the passenger window. “I wonder if a man will ever look at me like that?”

The question is clearly one she is asking herself, not me. It makes my heart squeeze tight. Carly has a gentle nature, almost too gentle to be a proper witch. Because of that we’re all rather protective of her. From Mom on down. Even me, and I’m decades younger than she is.

For the first time I think maybe we’ve protected her too much. As far as I know, Carly’s never had a boyfriend
.
Then again, thinking of Jack and me, perhaps that’s best. And I’m far from the only example; Ana’s history is no better, our mother won’t even talk about our father, and Jett…

Let’s just say our family has no luck at all when it comes to men.

“It was all an act, Carly.”

She smiles—a sweet, sly little smile—without looking at me. “If you say so.”

Silence. I have no idea what to say to that. Then, after a few miles, out of the blue, Carly says, “Of course, you know I was always pulling for Georg, too.” She giggles. “Remember when he used to try and sweeten me up to get to you?”

I remember. It was a juicy scandal in the FTC world when Jack left me ripped to metaphorical pieces. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. Even now my cheeks burn remembering. Georg was one of the few who tried to visit for reasons other than gossip. But my family closed ranks around me that fall. I wanted no visitors, so they saw to it I had no visitors, except Syana.

Georg was far too smart to approach my mother, who might’ve shut him down, and quite possibly ordered him to stay away. An order he would’ve had to obey. He couldn’t chance that. Quickly he learned Ana would not be moved. And no one in their right mind would try to butter Jett up.

So, he decided to focus on what he assumed was the weak link.
Carly.
Now my sister’s sweet, but far from stupid. She took full advantage of his willingness to do anything and everything to get to me. The hoops she made that man jump through…

He took her to the Renaissance fair—twice. Plus down to the Cities for some nerd Con or the other, along with a load of other stuff.  It makes me grin, remembering. I worried at first that she was getting a crush on him, but that never seemed to be the case. Carly just started thinking of Georg as a potential brother, the brother all of us had dreamed of, but never gotten.

They’re still close. She knows Georg almost as well as I do, maybe even better. Carly was the only one in our family who was actually upset when I turned down his proposal last summer.

“The poor bruin’s got no chance against Jack, though, does he?” She gives me a sidelong look.

I swallow, my smile fading. “It’s not a competition, sissie. Anyways, they’re both off the table.” I’ve had enough of this subject as we swing over to the curb. “You need me to pick you up?”

“Nah. I’ll catch a bus…or something.” There’s a curious smile on her face as Carly leans over to kiss my cheek before bouncing out of the car. Off to play WOW or some shit. How fantasy worlds can interest her so much when we freaking
live
in one is beyond me, but hell, if it makes her happy, who am I to judge?

It’s only as I am pulling away that I see him; a man guiding my sister into the storefront. My foot hits the brake. In the rearview mirror, I catch a flash of golden eyes and silver-blond hair at the resulting squeal. He quickly moves through the door, too fast for me to be sure. Just a fleeting impression of a tight ass and really broad shoulders.
Styx?

Nah. But I stare for a moment before pulling slowly away from the curb.

No fucking way.
It couldn’t have been. Styx’s coloring is pretty damn distinctive, though. Not too many guys running around that are six foot six with long silvery hair and bright gold eyes…

Styx is the monster in the lake.

He’s like Jack, an elemental, but unique in that he’s a shifter, too—only not in the sense that werewolves and bruins are. In those races, human and animal merge, becoming one. Styx is something way beyond human or animal, something
other
. He’s like no creature in existence, at least not on this plane. I’ve only seen him shifted once, and then just the barest peek from the corner of my eye. Shivering at the memory, I ease the Fiat back into traffic.

What the hell would Styx be doing meeting my sister at her fave geek hangout? With an effort, I shake it off. Even if that
was
Styx, which I highly doubt, I’ve always liked him. Not to mention he helped me out of a tight jam more than once. Jack may call him crazy, but Styx is a-okay in my book.

I wonder how he rates in Carly’s?

With that perplexing thought, I head up I-35, shaking my head.
 

After making a necessary drop-off, and a fair bit of magical preparation, I head back to the bar and into the basement to spring my prisoner. Tyr raises his head, his black eyes glinting through the shadows.

Even after a week in the clink, he looks pretty damn good. He’s made daily use of the shower. I brought him all the usual toiletries (Just because he tried to kill me doesn’t mean I have to pull a Nurse Ratched.) I even got him a razor, though it doesn’t look like he bothered with it this morning. His jaw is dark and tightens as I approach.

“I’m out of smokes.” He sounds so surly, I can’t help but grin.

“Go get them your own damn self then. I’m tired of supporting your filthy habit.”

He gets to his feet, a question forming on his face. One I answer with a muttered word and a flick of a finger, dropping the constraints I set up the night he went after me and have continually reinforced every day since. The magic falls like a wall of golden water, before swirling over the floor and away, as if down an invisible drain. Tyr can see none of this, but his shoulders instantly relax.

“What made you change your mind?”

“You looking a gift horse in the mouth?”

“No, I’m looking at a stubborn witch with a nice ass.”

I smile, despite myself, waving a bag from Amazing Grace. “Want a muffin?”

He ignores this, pausing where the limits of his ‘cell’ used to be. I watch him carefully, but I’m not particularly worried. As if noting this, his eyebrows come up.

“I could try and finish the job right here and now.”

I grin and take a big bite of muffin, but don’t say a word. He nods as if I’ve answered an important question. “But you’re ready for that, aren’t you, lovely?”

Swallowing, I brush the crumbs from my lips before replying. “I’ve got a few things lined up, but if you want to have a go, I’m all yours.”

He wags a finger at me, smirking. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” With a flourish, he indicates the stairs. “Ladies first.”

“Ah, such a gentleman,” I say, heavy on the sarcasm, “but after you, please.”

He shrugs, those wicked eyes sparkling. “It was worth a try.”

“I’m letting you go, Tyr. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

Probably deciding it’s best not to push it, he heads up the stairs. I trail after, admiring his ass—which is pretty goddamn nice, too—while sipping coffee and wondering if I am making a mistake. If I were Jett, I would’ve killed him the first night.

As if reading my thoughts, my sister turns her head just as we gain the landing and open the door. I can see her in bits and pieces through the patterns in the frosted glass. She looks from me to Tyr and rolls her eyes before going back to her customer, who I still can’t make out. I’m betting it’s the same one from last week. Jett rarely makes early appointments, so more than one in such a short time has me curious. It’s definitely somebody big sitting in that chair. A guy, then. I step closer, but Tyr’s voice stops me short.

“What about my sword?”

Giving a delicate shudder, I hand him a muffin. “I left that
thing
down the road a ways. Mile marker 246.”

He takes the muffin, then extends his other hand with a bemused smile. “It’s been …enlightening, Persephone. I enjoyed not killing you.”

We’re clasping forearms in the old way when a shiver slides over the back of my neck. Both our heads swivel toward the window in the side door.

Outside, Jack is clearly visible, leaning against the wall of the men’s clothing store across the street. His collar is turned up, dark hair blowing in what looks to be a sharp wind. I know he can’t see us in here, but he seems to be looking right at me. Tyr gives me the side eye, his grip on my arm tightening.

“I owe you, so consider this a courtesy warning; your man there is one of my employers.”

20

My
fingers tremble once on Tyr’s forearm before dropping away. I shake my head, something cold dancing over my stomach as I take a step back. “You’re lying.”

“He wasn’t in on the negotiations for this job, I’ll grant you. But this isn’t my first rodeo, lovely. Jack Frost’s one of them. He’s been on the Dark Council ever since I started working for them.”

“I don’t believe you.” My heart seems to squeeze in my chest, as if wrapped in a tight fist. Jack?
A part of the Dark Council?
No. It makes—

Perfect sense.

“Yes, you do.” That rich voice is almost gentle as Tyr moves away. “And I’d appreciate you keeping my name out of it when and if you confront him. I don’t fancy having that one on my bad side.”

As Jack’s eyes seem to hone in, despite the glass and brick and mortar between us, I don’t blame Tyr. My ex-lover is a scary guy. Apparently even scarier than I thought.

I let Tyr leave out the back, since he’s not at all anxious to run into Jack

Five minutes later, I’m heading back to my office. Jack’s still out front, watching the bar.
Asswipe.
I decide to go out and tell him the deed is done. Mostly because I don’t want to think of him hovering there all day.

Pushing open the door into the chilly, but relatively mild day—at least by November standards—I’m still trying to process what Tyr said.
The Dark Council.
I should be more preoccupied with them trying to off me, but instead I’m trying to picture Jack as part of such an entity. It’s all too easy.

He’s ruthless, cold as ice (ha!) and highly pragmatic. I thought he was a lot of other things, too, but I can’t trust myself where Jack is concerned. Not one bit.

My phone chimes at me as I jaywalk across Superior Street. It’s Sy.

Can you pls come & get me from work? The colossal POS died. For good this time.

Damn. Poor Sy. She loves that ugly behemoth of a car.

I text her back in the affirmative and look up to see Jack studying me, a softness in his eyes that comes and goes so quickly, I’m sure I imagined it. But then Carly’s voice echoes in my head,
The way he looked at you whenever you couldn’t see him...

“You let Tyr go?”

I blink at the sound of his voice. “Huh? Oh yeah, just as you ordered.”

Jack doesn’t try and argue that it wasn’t an order, like some guys would, because we both know that’s exactly what it was. “Good.”

“So, you can leave now. Go on,
shoo
.”

He raises a dark eyebrow. “Did you just tell me to ‘shoo?’”

“Glad to know your hearing is as keen as ever.” My voice sounds too high to my own ears. Tight. Nervous.

Jack frowns. I’m shit when it comes to playing games with this man. Pity that doesn’t work both ways.

Those icy eyes study me unblinkingly, then he bends down, lips finding my ear, fingers circling my upper arms. “What’d Tyr tell you, Seph?”

“Nothing. I just gotta run.” I wave my phone between us, almost babbling. “Sy has stuff. Out at Beaner’s. Her car went poof.”

I don’t think he’s going to let me go at first, but finally his hands loosen and fall. He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, his lips pressed tightly together. But I can’t break his stare and step away. Even though I know I should. After what Jack did to me, I know he’s a bad,
bad
man. It’s just…

I don’t know. Maybe falling for someone as hard as I fell for him—so hard the bastard put cracks in my soul—means I’m always gonna hope there was some part of it that was real. That there was a nugget of truth deep in all the lies.

Maybe I have to believe that, or I’ll go insane.

Whatever.

I might already be insane, but hearing Jack is part of the Dark Council? It’s a proverbial slap upside the head, shaking me hard. Maybe that’s why I have to ask.

“Why did you come back? What are you really here for, Jack?”

He stares at me, a look on his face I can’t quite get a lock on. For a second I almost think he’s going to be straight with me. But I should know better by now.

“A lot of things in this life I’ve been told I can’t have.” He eyes my ass as he says it and I can’t help it, I flush with both anger and frustration. His lips curve in that smirk he has, the one that makes me squeeze my thighs together just a bit even as my blood boils.

“You should leave town, Jack. You’re not wanted.”

He doesn’t even blink. “Really, Seph? Because the way you said my name last night says otherwise.”

“I can’t help what I do in dreams. Unlike you. Sneaking around, stealing kisses for
years—
”

“If memory serves, you started the whole kissing thing this time,” he interrupts pointedly.

Touché, but I’m not in the mood. “
Jack.
That was a moment of temporary insanity. And I was drunk.”

“You were not.”

“Oh, you believe me now, do you?”

“I’ve always believed in you, Seph. More than you can possibly know.”

The words and the suddenly brittle way he says them take my breath away, tightening my chest. “You don’t even know
me
,”
I hiss.
“You knew a girl, and you destroyed her.”

“Oh princess, I didn’t destroy you,” he says softly, eyes on mine. “It would take a lot more than me to do that to the likes of you.”

He can’t really believe that. Can he?

“Fuck you, Jack.” I turn to go, beyond done with this conversation and this man.

“Is that an offer?”

Before I know what I’m doing, I whirl and slap him.

Hard enough the burn immediately streaks from my fingertips to my elbow, making my eyes water. The crack echoes sharply against the stone facade. A few passerbys give us wary looks, stepping off the curb to avoid coming any closer to the crazy couple. Jack has an oddly satisfied look on his face before he turns away without a word. Down the street the casino’s lights are just coming on. I watch his lithe figure vanish into the neon glow, breathing hard before walking back to my car.

What the hell did he mean by that?
Believing in me.
Believing that I will fall for his bullshit again, is more like. My head hurts and I want to hit something again.

I’d always assumed Jack did what he did simply for power. My mom clued me in on that score. I get in the Fiat, firing up the heater along with the memories. During that long winter after Jack left, she and I spent a lot of time together. She said that a man can’t stand the thought of a woman stronger than he is—that Jack had gone after me to take away the possibility of a witch who could one day take him down.

When I’d asked her why he’d think
I’d
ever be stronger than him, she’d only smiled in that vague way she had, saying sometimes the idea of a thing was more powerful than the reality of it.

I’d wondered where Jack would’ve gotten such a ridiculous idea about me, of all witches, but every time I’d poked at the subject, Mom had evaded. Eventually I stopped asking. What did it matter
why
Jack had broken my heart? It only mattered that he had. The why had seemed rather irrelevant at the time.

Considering recent events, I’m rethinking that position. Does Jack buy into this whole secret power deal? If he’s a part of the Dark Council, that seems likely. Maybe he even knows what it’s supposed to be…

Having reached Beaner’s I head to the alley in back and stop the Fiat, looking around for Sy. It’s only early afternoon, but shadows are everywhere, the thin grey ones peculiar to November. I don’t see the tow truck, or Sy’s damn relic of a car, which is hard to miss.

My phone chimes just as I’m getting out to go inside the coffee shop to find her. Beaner’s often has live music and it is a pleasant surprise to hear one of my fave local bands tuning up as I trot up the sidewalk. I hum along with RoofTop Fable as I check my text.

It’s only two words. And it’s from Thomas.

They’re here.