Strange Fates (Nyx Fortuna) (27 page)

My fists clenched again, but I forced my hands to relax. “And then?”

“Get you to tell me where your thread of fate is and I would be free.”

“So they hired you to break my heart? Congratulations on a job well done.” Lying, treacherous bitch.

“They have Alex,” she said flatly. “They are holding him somewhere. Until I do what they want.”

“So now you decide to tell me the truth?” I asked.

“Nyx, I love—”

“Don’t say it!” I screamed the words. “Don’t you ever say that to me.”

“Alex is—” She gulped, and then continued. “He’s my brother. I’m his only hope.”

“Why should I believe you?” God, how I hated her, but even with everything I now knew, I wanted her to say something, anything to let me love her again.

“You have no reason to believe me,” she said. “But everything I’m telling you is true.”

“Only one person in the history of the world has managed to steal a thread of life, and she’s dead now.”

“That’s what you have to do?” she asked. “Just give them a thread?”

“I have to give them
my
thread. The thing that keeps me alive. They killed my mother and they want to kill me.” They’d offered another option, but it wasn’t one I was going to consider, not now. The burning need for revenge had been reignited.

“She didn’t take her own thread when she took yours?”

“No, she didn’t think she had to. The Fates live a very long time. Not forever, but close enough. My mother never dreamed her own sisters would cut her thread.”

Her face softened, but she was smart enough not to try to touch me. “So you’ll do it?”

“I haven’t agreed to do anything,” I replied. I’d told her too much. “What’s in it for me?”

“Please help me,” she begged. “Just think about it before you give me your answer.”

What would Gaston do to Alex and Elizabeth if I just walked away? It wouldn’t be pretty. I couldn’t have another death on my conscience. But that didn’t mean I would be her dumb lovesick puppy ever again.

I met her eyes and nodded slowly.

She threw her arms around me, but for the first time I felt nothing when she touched me. Betrayal made me numb.

“Why’d they choose you?”

“Does it matter?” she replied.

“It matters to me.”

She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Convenience,” she said. “Gaston and Alex hung out after work sometimes and I guess Alex talked about me and…”

“And what?”

“Gaston said I looked like your ex-girlfriend.”

“He should know,” I said bitterly. “Since he’s the one who killed her.” I went on, “Why did they think it would work?” It had worked, all too well, but I didn’t want to think about that now.

“I fancied myself quite the actress,” she said bitterly. “Alex was so proud of me. He—” She gulped and then continued. “—he used to say that I was so good at becoming someone else that I could fool anybody.”

My mind was whirling. “Tell me again why you agreed to do it,” I said.

“I told you,” Elizabeth said. “They have my brother.”

I cleared my throat, hoping to dispel the nausea. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Do you think I’d agree to something like this if I knew? I’m not a bad person.”

“How did you get involved with them anyway?”

“After my brother disappeared,” she said, “Gaston showed up at school. He told me they had my brother and what they wanted. ”

“So you never talked to Nona Polydoros about this? Or her husband?”

“Why would school trustees have anything to do with this?”

She didn’t know who they really were.

“Gaston never mentioned anything about Parsi Enterprises? Or his bosses?”

She shook her head.

“You’re sure?” Murderous rage overwhelmed me for a moment. Either my aunts were covering their tracks or Gaston had gone rogue.

“They’re really dangerous?” she asked.

“Ever read Shakespeare?” I asked.

“Certainly,” she said.

“He didn’t get everything wrong,” I told her. “In the normal course of things, a witch isn’t someone you’d want to mess with.”

“And double-crossing one is even worse?” she hazarded.

“Yes,” I said. “Remember, I am the son of a witch.”

Elizabeth asked me, “What happens if your aunts find your thread of fate?”

I thought about lying, but I’d made a vow to be truthful. “I die, I suppose. I’m living on borrowed time.”

My mother had trained me from birth to sense a lie, and I knew I’d been handed a big fat steaming pile of them on a silver platter.

“Tell me again exactly what my aunts promised you,” I went on. There was no way my aunts were going to let Elizabeth and her brother go after this.

“I was to befriend you and they’d let my brother go,” she said flatly.

“And you believe them?”

“I have money,” Elizabeth said. “I can pay you.”

“So you lied about not having any money, too,” I said. “Was anything you told me true?”

She met my eyes without flinching. “The important things were.”

I was going to break something if she said she loved me.

“I need to go,” I said.

She started to cry. “What am I going to do?”

I knew what I had to do, but still I hesitated. There are always consequences for magic, and I knew there would definitely be consequences for challenging my aunts. But my lips still moved, saying the words I’d almost forgotten in the endless years since my mother had first taught me the spell.

“What’s in it for me?” I said. “Seems to me that I’d be the one taking all the risks.”

“True,” Jenny said. “We are prepared to offer you more-than-adequate compensation.”

“How adequate?” I asked. I didn’t really care about the money.

She named a figure that made my jaw drop. “It’s been a long day for you, I’m sure,” she added. “Why don’t you sleep on it?”

“I’ll help you,” I said. But if my plan didn’t work, I’d be looking over my shoulder for a long time. I was determined to live. Not because of some make-believe happily ever after, but to make Gaston pay.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Eternity Road had everything you needed, if you only knew where to look. I knew where to look.

I searched the shelves until I found what I wanted. I intended to get stinking drunk and brood about my faithless girlfriend. Make that ex-girlfriend.

I grabbed the ornate bottle and marched up to the counter with it. “How much for the wormwood?” I asked.

Talbot took one look at my face and said, “It’s yours. But I must warn you that you’ll have a devil of a headache in the morning.”

“It won’t be the first time,” I replied.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

I hesitated. It wouldn’t change anything, but I could feel myself wanting to confide in him. “Got a couple of hours?”

He walked to the door and flipped the sign to
CLOSED
. “I do.”

I started to crack open the bottle, but he shook his head. “In your apartment,” he said. “It will be much easier to put you to bed when you pass out. Besides, we are not drinking two-hundred-year-old verde absinthe straight from the bottle. We will do this properly. Otherwise, it will be too bitter.”

Bitter fit my mood exactly, but I didn’t argue. Talbot grabbed two crystal glasses, etched with a fine line of silver, and a spoon. “Do you have ice?”

I nodded.

“And sugar cubes?”

“That’s doubtful,” I replied.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He headed for the office and returned a few minutes later with a silver tray on which he’d placed what I assumed was the appropriate paraphernalia to mix up some of the green fairy.

We walked the three flights to my apartment without speaking. Once inside, Talbot busied himself with making our drinks while I sat on my couch and commenced with the brooding.

Talbot handed me a glass of the cloudy green liquid and I chugged it. This world was too much for me. It hurt to be in it.

“Easy, Nyx,” he said. “It’s not that swill you’re used to drinking. Now let’s discuss your situation.”

“My situation?” I repeated. “My situation is that I am well and truly screwed.”

“Elizabeth finally showed her hand, I take it.”

“You knew?” I said. “Now I feel like an even bigger jackass.”

“Don’t,” he said. “I only had my suspicions.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I handed him my glass. “Let the pity party begin.”

He gave me the drink without comment, for which I was grateful. I couldn’t take a lecture at this point.

“Make this one a double, please.” I handed him the glass. I swallowed the next drink without tasting it. The alcohol hit my bloodstream and suddenly, my tiny apartment seemed too confining. “Let’s go out,” I said.

“You’re not in any condition to drive,” Talbot said.

“That’s okay.” I noticed I’d already begun to slur my words, but I ignored it. “We can walk. The Red Dragon isn’t far.”

The crisp night air sobered me up a bit, but I planned on taking care of that when we got to the bar.

The Red Dragon was crowded, but we found a table without any problem.

I gestured to the seats. “It’s my lucky night, but then again it always is.”

“Maybe it isn’t luck,” Talbot suggested. “Your air of sullenness combined with that rather sizable chip on your shoulder is scaring away the other patrons.”

He took out a handkerchief with a flourish and used it to wipe the bar stool seat. Talbot liked to act like he wouldn’t caught dead in the Red Dragon if it weren’t for me, but I thought that secretly, he loved hanging out there.

I glowered at him, but he ignored me. The rest of the bar stool occupants made a mass exodus, however, and seats on either side of us quickly became available.

“Someone will fill these seats again sooner or later.”

And my prediction was correct. No sooner had I ordered my first round of shots than a pretty little brunette sat beside me.

“See?” I looked over at Talbot triumphantly, but he was busy inspecting his shot glass for cleanliness.

“See what?” the brunette asked.

“I was explaining to my friend Talbot here that I am incredibly lucky and then you sit next to me.”

“You’re cute,” she said.

Some sixth sense made me turn around, just in time to see Jasper stroll into the bar. The night was just getting better and better.

“What’s the matter?” Talbot asked, noticing the look on my face.

“I need to talk to that guy,” I said. I swayed when I got to my feet. Talbot held out a steadying hand. “Where?”

“Skinny guy in the ratty trench coat,” I slurred.

The moment Jasper saw me, his face paled and he ran out of the bar. Talbot, whose motor skills were functioning better than mine, ran after him.

I staggered through the door and cursed the impulse to drink my problems away. Jasper had answers and I’d let him slip away.

Talbot, however, saved my ass. He had Jasper collared and was holding him as far away as possible without losing his grip.

“Why do you want to talk to
this
?” Talbot asked.

Jasper was skinnier and dirtier than ever.

“I released him from a troll,” I replied. “And he repaid me by leaving his severed finger at Elizabeth’s house. I want to know why.”

“Let’s go inside,” Jasper said. He glanced around uneasily.

“Afraid to be seen talking to me?” I asked. “I’m hurt.”

We found the least noisy corner table, and I waited for Jasper to speak.

“Well?”

His throat worked, but no sound came out. “They’ll kill me if I tell you,” he finally said.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” I meant every word.

Jasper’s fingers drummed on the table nervously. The end of his missing finger had been cauterized, but the wound was jagged. Like a water hag’s teeth.

Talbot couldn’t take his eyes away from Jasper’s missing finger. “How’d that happen?” he asked him.

“Water hag,” Jasper said.

“Why did you come back to Minneapolis?” I said. “After I told you to leave town. After you begged to go home.”

“I forgot something,” Jasper said. His gaze shifted away from mine.

“What did you forget?” I said. I wanted to reach over and slam his head against the table until he started to talk. I restrained myself, but it hurt.

“I had some information that I knew would be valuable to certain parties,” he said.

I glared at him. “You stole the recipe for the nectar of the gods from Alex.”

He nodded. “A few months ago. He didn’t even notice it was missing.”

“But the Fates did,” I said. “You were dumb enough to try to blackmail them?”

“No,” he said. “Not the Fates. The Tracker.”

“That’s how you lost your finger,” Talbot said. “Gaston.”

He looked at his feet. “It wasn’t the original recipe,” he said. “New and improved. By Alex.”

“Why did they want to improve it? Magical people have been drinking it for hundreds of years.” Not to mention their Tracker.

“They wanted to sell it to mortals,” Jasper said.

“Nectar is toxic to mortals,” I said. “One sip would make a human go insane.”

“Not Alex’s version. He fixed it. Only minor side effects.”

“They think he took the formula for nectar of the gods,” I said. “That’s why he went missing.”

I was regretting the last few shots. It made it hard for me to think, to process what Jasper had told me.

I was drunk, but not so drunk that I didn’t notice when Elizabeth and Jenny walked in.

They didn’t see me, but I watched them as they found a table. I wasn’t the only one paying attention to the two women who were obviously slumming.

A guy dressed in black watched them, too. In fact, he made a beeline for their table. There was something familiar about him, but I didn’t realize what it was until he had nearly reached them. It was the douche bag who’d put a knife in me the night I’d met Elizabeth. Brad. Talbot’s frat buddy. The guy I’d owned at the poker table.

Alcohol and adrenaline mixed in my veins until they combined to form a red-hot rage. Talbot noticed my death stare and laid a hand on my shoulder. “It’s best to leave it alone,” he said.

“Leave it alone? That asshat gutted me like a fish and now he’s making a move on my girl? Hell no!”