Darkest Misery (6 page)

“So we're back to my positive traits?”

Lucen stepped on my foot.

“Regardless of what she is, Jessica has been useful to our domus.” Dezzi motioned toward me with her wineglass. “And there is certainly enough evidence before us to make this meeting worthwhile. It would not do to be like some races and become too self-absorbed to pay attention to the events surrounding us.”

Claudius inclined his head her way. “Certainly not. If I didn't believe the discussion was worth having, I wouldn't have made the trip.”

At once, the errant displeasure in my head lifted. Startled, I dropped my fork, and it clattered against my plate. I winced as everyone turned to me. “Sorry.”

“Did you feel it?” Claudius asked.

I pushed my hair aside, no longer able to hide being flustered. “You in my head? Yes.”

“Interesting.” He gave Dezzi a pointed look. “More evidence, I think.”

More evidence of what? That I wasn't a true satyr? I didn't ask, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my curiosity. He might mistake it for caring.

So I wasn't a normal satyr. So what? I wasn't a normal human either, and as long as I knew why I wasn't normal, putting a name to myself didn't matter. It had once, but no more.

We finished dinner with more uneasy conversation, and I wondered how much worse it would have been without the wine.

When we got up, two humans did so with us. I hadn't noticed them before because they'd been sitting at another table. They were lust addicts, and it didn't take a genius to figure out whose. Claudius linked arms with the women, both of whom could have been—and quite possibly were—models. They were tall, leggy and dressed in what I could tell were very expensive but also very short dresses.

“He brought addicts?” I said under my breath to Lucen.

“Travel isn't easy on us. The bonds weaken over the distances, even for someone as powerful as Claudius.”

“Lovely. He could at least let them wear clothes that cover their asses.”

Lucen shook his head at me, silently laughing.

Sonya took off as we left the restaurant, and Dezzi stayed behind to continue talking with Claudius. With my bodyguards behind me, I left with Lucen and Devon, glad to get away.

“So what did you think of our benevolent Upper Council overlord?” Devon asked once we were well out of earshot.

“Do you want honesty or diplomacy?”

Lucen nudged me in the ribs. “I think the chance for diplomacy is well past, little siren.”

“So I blew that, huh?”

Devon smirked. “He's a right arse, isn't he?”

“Arse?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“It's his accent.”

I had to consider that for a moment before realizing Claudius did have an accent. I must have been so intent on taking in the rest of him that some of the details had gone completely over my head. “Arse, indeed. He called me a creature.”

“Did you prefer when the goblins called you an abomination?” Lucen asked.

“Yes. Abomination gives me an edge. Creature makes me sound like a science experiment gone wrong. Which I suppose I am.”

Devon looped an arm around one of mine. “I think you came out fine.”

“So do I.” Not to be outdone, Lucen took my other arm.

The sidewalk wasn't big enough for the three of us, but neither let go as we meandered down the street. Being so close to them both, feeling their power sliding over my skin, wreaked havoc on my nerves. I was warm all over again and growing hotter, my imagination teasing me with ideas.

I pushed these thoughts away for later. “What did Claudius mean when he said I felt him? I did feel something, like he was planting his emotions in my head.”

“Very old satyrs,” Lucen said, “far older than either of us, or even Dezzi, cannot just sense the emotions of humans. They can make
their
emotions felt.”

“It's another way to influence people,” Devon said.

I bit my lip, not liking the sound of this at all. “So they can stir lust in people, and other emotions? Peachy.”

Lucen tightened his grip around my arm. “It's one reason why the idea of the original furies being released is so deadly. Someone like Claudius would have nothing on them. According to legend, they inspired anger, obviously, but also bloodlust and sadism and everything evil you can imagine.”

“Oh, fabulous.”

Finally, a thought that could kill any desire I'd been nursing for a threesome.

Chapter Nine

According to Tom, Ingrid Blecher was the Brotherhood's Big Boss in Boston. Although, being Tom, he called her something far more boring, like Director of Special Project Research. Title aside, the upshot meant that Ingrid was the person in charge of all matters related to the magi prophecy and the Gryphon-magi-pred tentative alliance we'd been putting together. Perhaps that was why she alone of the Brotherhood members who'd arrived for the meeting had been granted an office. The rest were stuck sharing a conference room.

Ingrid's position made her my most logical target if I wanted to poke around for information on the Brotherhood and the source of the potential Phoenix leak. Therefore, the morning of the meeting, I dragged myself into Gryphon Headquarters several hours earlier than necessary. I'd overheard Tom and others planning a pre-meeting meeting yesterday, and I intended to snatch what might be my only opportunity to do something incredibly rude and invasive.

I intended to search Ingrid's office. Possibly while laughing at the comical horror of pre-meeting meetings.

I ducked in the tiny, borrowed room about ten minutes after the pre-meeting was supposed to start. And sighed. When I'd formed this half-brained plan yesterday, I wasn't sure what I might find, but the possibilities were less than I'd imagined. Ingrid hadn't brought much with her. Unlike Tom, who'd stuffed his office with a veritable library and armory, Ingrid had only a laptop and whatever she'd packed in its case.

Mentally crossing my fingers, I checked the laptop first, but though it was on, it had been locked and was password protected. Not surprising.

I rummaged through her laptop bag next, not expecting to discover anything either. Aside from an odd assortment of pens, a pack of breath mints and a phone charger, however, I also discovered a bunch of papers in an outer pocket. Trying not to get my hopes up, I rifled through them.

Ingrid had printed out several emails regarding her trip. While the content of those emails wasn't enlightening for the most part, the one on the bottom of the pile contained a single comment from Tom—a reminder of the dates that he and I would be traveling to Phoenix and Chicago.

Jackpot. My heartbeat sped up. Besides Ingrid and Tom, eleven other people had been included on the cc line at various points along the chain. I recognized Theo's name as one of them, and so I assumed the other people were also members of
Le Confrérie
. It wasn't much, but it was a start. In my not-so-copious free time, maybe I could do some digging into these people. If nothing else, the list narrowed down the number who I wanted to question. Although, since only five had come to Boston, questioning everyone on it seemed impossible.

In fact, when I was being honest with myself, all of it seemed impossible. Rubbing my eyes, I sighed again from the futility. I had neither the position within the Gryphons, nor the training, to do any serious investigation. As with the prophecy ordeal in general, I was in way over my head. Nevertheless, I took a photo of the names and email addresses, then I tucked everything away and got out before I further complicated my life by being caught snooping.

To make my day better, I found a package on my desk when I got back. Ripping it open, I discovered a neatly folded Gryphon uniform inside. What in the world? I held it up, noting it appeared to be my size.

With a groan, I tossed it on my chair. When I'd first been blackmailed into working for the Gryphons, I'd asked for a uniform. Asked, and been denied. So giving me one now? That meant one thing—the Gryphons were aiming to show they owned me.

That wasn't going to happen. This move was way more in-your-face than offering me bodyguards. If the Gryphons wanted to throw some of those into the mix, they were welcome. But I wasn't donning the black-and-gold uniform. No way could I claim neutrality if I did.

Surely, this would go over well when I refused.

My cell rang before I could kick off an argument with Tom, replacing my apprehension with a different sort of anxiety. It was my mother calling.

“Jess, honey, do you want to explain to me why the cops are keeping an eye on me?”

“Huh?” Shoving the uniform aside, I sat and turned on my computer. “What happened?”

Sirens wailed in the background. Given the time, my mom was probably on her lunch break. The doctor's office she worked at was adjacent to a hospital. “An officer stopped by the house this morning before I left. He said they'd been contacted by the Boston Gryphon Office and instructed to be alert. They were letting me know why I'd be seeing more frequent patrols or something to that effect.”

Wow, so Tom must have actually done something when I'd told him I wanted my family protected. It wasn't Gryphons watching over her, but Gryphons were in short supply. This was better than nothing.

“It's a cautionary thing. I'm working on a…” How did I explain this quickly yet honestly? “A kind of high-profile case.”

She sighed. She hadn't wanted me to be a Gryphon because of the danger, so to be putting her in danger too… “What sort of case? Have there been threats?”

Oh, just the end of the world as we know it. There was nothing she could do to protect herself from that. “No threats. I asked for the precautions because I'm paranoid. The case is kind of hard to explain.” Or to believe, for some people.

“I see. I need to get back to work. Is there anything else you should tell me?”

I rested my head on my hands. Only that the Gryphons had turned me into a satyr and I'd been lying to her about my life since I turned eighteen.

I'd done it to protect her. I mean, who wanted to hear these things about their daughter? She'd be horrified and outraged, and she'd probably cry if she knew half of what I'd neglected to mention over the years. Yet as I ran my fingers over the uniform, I feared my time to come clean and tell her everything was running out. I guess I'd assumed I could lie to her my whole life.

Only now, my whole life didn't feel like it might be as long as I'd once believed. And it might well end in a way I could never have predicted. Suddenly, perhaps because of that, I felt like I owed it to her to confess. She deserved the truth.

Except here and now weren't the time. I just wished I knew when I'd get another opportunity.

“Jess? You there?”

“There's a lot I should tell you.” My voice quivered a touch. Damn it. I grabbed a sip of water and sat upright. “I'll call you when I get a chance. Maybe this weekend.”

“All right. You do that. Take care, honey.”

“You too. Love you.”

The hairs on my neck rose as I hung up, and I jumped, sensing someone was watching me. It was Tom. Figured. He must have been in a decent mood because I couldn't detect any negativity.

“So you do have a softer side?”

I flipped him off. “Even I have a mother who worries.”

“Oh, yes. Did the police contact her?”

“That's why she called. Thank you.”

He nodded and motioned toward the uniform, which was sitting in a heap. “You should change before the meeting this afternoon. In the meantime, why don't you meet Theo to finish your glyphs, then come find me and Ingrid.”

“About the uniform? I'm not wearing it.”

Tom's decent mood drained away, and I could taste annoyance settling in its place. “Why not?”

“I'm not a Gryphon. Seems disingenuous for me to wear a uniform.”

“You are a Gryphon. You might not have been formally inducted into the organization, and Director Lee might have only hired you as a consultant, but we can fix that. You and the others were always intended to be Gryphons.”

“Then how come you never mentioned this before? Why am I only finding out about it before we go marching into a meeting with preds and the magi?”

Tom ran his fingers through his blond hair. “If you'll recall, you weren't overly receptive to what I had to say prior to this. Just trying to get you to talk to me and read about the prophecy was, shall we say, an ordeal.”

“You could have started off your spiel with this information.” Not that it would have made a difference. Tom might be telling the truth. It was hard to know with him, but even so, the timing of this all felt extremely convenient.

Either way, it was too late. I was convinced the only way I might be able to hold the meeting together was if I showed no glaring loyalties to any one side.

“I doubt you'd have listened,” Tom said, and he was right. I was certain I wouldn't have.

“Whatever. I'm not wearing it. I'll go get those glyphs finished, but we're done discussing the uniform.”

Scowling, Tom stepped aside so I could leave my cube. “Don't count on it.”

I wouldn't, and it was just as well. The argument resumed a couple hours later when I met up with Ingrid, Tom and some other members of
Le Confrérie
.

Ingrid got straight to business. “Agent Kassin informs me you do not wish to wear the uniform we brought you.”

I scanned the room, expecting to see Grace sitting around the table, already in a uniform, but she wasn't there. “No, and I explained why to Tom. Where's Grace?”

Ingrid rubbed lint off the reading glasses she wore around her neck. “After meeting her yesterday, we came to the assessment that she is better off not attending these meetings. Her time will be spent beginning her training. As for you, the uniform—”

“Is a no. I explained why. You're not marking me.”

Ingrid and the others, whose names I'd mostly forgotten, exchanged glances. “It's not a question of marking. It's a question of demonstrating your authority, of making sure these other people listen to you.”

“If that's all, give me some Gryphon-issued weapons. They'll listen then.” I smiled, assuming I had them. Salamander fire-forged blades were expensive and not handed out lightly by the Gryphons. They required serious magical skills to produce. Preds wouldn't make them for others because they were extremely deadly to preds, so that left the magically talented magi as the best source. All Gryphons on duty carried knives, but no way would the Gryphons rise to the bait.

Or so I thought.

“Well yes,” Ingrid said. “I thought it went without saying that you should be armed at all times.”

“I…” I snapped my jaw shut. “Yeah, it makes sense.”

“I see you already have a knife.”

I patted the blade at my hip. Misery, as I'd named it, was one of my favorite possessions. “Yes, but I still don't think I need a uniform.”

“Jessica has a jacket,” Tom said, sounding resigned. “She should wear that if nothing else.”

Ingrid shrugged. “It's a compromise then. Jessica, how much training do you have with firearms?”

“Uh, not much. Tom's made sure I've gone to the shooting range recently, but I wouldn't call myself proficient.”

“Then you must continue to work on your skills. We have special bullets that are effective against preds.”

I'd seen them before while snooping in Tom's office. Bullets with casings made of the same salamander fire-forged metal as Gryphon blades were. They were even rarer than the blades. So rare that I didn't realize such things existed until I'd found them.

A pred could bleed out from a single nick of a salamander blade if they didn't have access to magical healers. You didn't need to be a good shot to kill one if you had bullets made of the same. It was efficient, and it made fighting preds—usually a dangerous proposition—a whole lot easier for the person with the gun.

Before we left for the hotel, Tom supplied me with my new weapon. “This is exactly like the gun I've been training you on. They're made just for us to be able to accommodate the salamander-forged casings.”

He set the gun and a holster, stamped with the Gryphon insignia, on his desk. Cautiously, I picked it up. Much as I'd been eager to goad Ingrid into arming me, I felt uneasy holding a firearm. Swords and knives were different. I'd studied how to use them for years as part of my martial arts training.

“Eight shots,” Tom said. “I don't expect you'll need them anytime soon, but in case you do, there you go.” He watched me load the gun and nodded his approval.

“You know, I was thinking you might give me a sword instead.” I attached the holster next to Misery's sheath.

Tom slammed closed the case in which he kept the special bullets. “And I was thinking you might wear a uniform.”

“Touché.”

“It's not a game, Jessica. You of all people should know what we're facing. You're the one who linked Boston's furies to this prophecy.”

I tied the windbreaker around my waist, and it covered up both my weapons. “I'm aware of that, and I understand you don't think I'm taking it seriously. But just because we don't agree on how to best handle the situation doesn't mean we aren't on the same side. That's something you should probably keep in mind as we go into this meeting. However different our opinions are, you can bet your ass the magi and satyrs and goblins are going to have even more different ones.”

That, at least, I was certain of.