Wicked Misery (Miss Misery) (21 page)

“Have something to eat, I insist. It’s early. Not for you perhaps, but breakfast for me. Those are real English scones, and that’s homemade jam and butter. My chef spent many years in Britain. I’m sorry we don’t have any clotted cream for you today.”

I wasn’t. Though I had no idea what clotted cream was, it sounded revolting. Clotted cream, clotted blood, clogged arteries… Best to do what the bossy goblin suggested. I took a scone that was giving off the aroma of cinnamon and sugar. The scent reminded me of Lucen.

“Excellent, aren’t they?”

I swallowed. “Very—”

“Now, your gift.” This must have been how Gunthra gained her position as Dom. She talked over everyone until they agreed.

“The other goblin…” Crap. Why had I never asked his name? “He called it a heritage.”

That didn’t seem to surprise Gunthra. Her expression remained the same. “It is a curious thing. I, of course, know all about your unique abilities. You don’t need to describe them. On one hand, the explanation is simple. On the other, I do not understand at all.”

“Simple? Can you be a bit more specific about which hands we’re talking about?”

“Information for information, Miss Moore. Why are you so interested in this now?”

“Because the person behind the addict murders has the same power that I do. I thought whoever did it to me might have done it to him and could lead me to him.”

Gunthra set her tea cup on the china with a clanging that made me jump. “We will not discuss politics.”

“That’s politics?”

“War is always politics, and you’ve aligned yourself with our enemy.”

For the love of dragons. “Fine.” I dumped my scone plate on the table and crossed my arms. “But you asked.”

Gunthra stared at me without blinking for long enough to be creepy. I couldn’t hide that, but I met her stare head-on. “This alleged other person who has your gift. Does he have a satyr’s magic, as well?”

“I don’t—”

“No, I expect you don’t.”

“He exists, and I’ll prove it.”

She waved off my anger with a ring-bedecked hand. “He may well exist. I’m just disappointed that you can’t tell me.”

“Does it make a difference?”

“It might.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I popped another piece of scone in my mouth. It tasted dry, which might have said more about my emotional state than the scone’s tastiness. “Well, what do you know? Can you tell me anything?”

“Of course. I know what happened to you. The question is—how badly do you want to know?”

Aha. Was she asking me to name a price? I curled my fingers into my hands so they wouldn’t shake.

For all my musing on this topic, I hadn’t actually gone into this meeting prepared. All I was certain of was that I wasn’t trading my soul away for this information. So what then? What was I willing to offer when I wasn’t even sure I wanted the truth?

I wet my lips. Actually, I wasn’t sure that I was unsure. Not at all. Not anymore. My curiosity was growing stronger by the second. Or was it not my curiosity? Was Gunthra feeding my thirst—my greed—for knowledge? I couldn’t detect her influence in my head, but the longer I sat here and the more I thought about it, the more desperate I was to understand what had happened to me. Most importantly, if I understood, could something be done about it? Could the process be reversed and I be made normal, no longer fearing exposure?

I kept my eyes roaming around the room as I debated my next move, mostly so I wouldn’t have to look at Gunthra. As skilled a negotiator as she must be, I feared I’d give something away. Though what difference it would make, who knew?

Her room had plenty to keep me occupied. All the Victorianesque decorations in here, I’d bet, were original. Preds were quasi-immortal, so Gunthra might very well have lived to see the Victorian period.

She also had a thing for butterflies. Several preserved ones lined the top of the mantel. Leave it to a pred to collect dead insects. Once again, I was thankful that Lucen’s apartment looked normal. Sweetpea aside.

“Miss Moore?”

“I don’t have much money.” And I’d have less when this ordeal was over. I hadn’t given a thought to my job all morning. Cringing, I realized I was already four hours late for my shift. But there was likely no point in calling the Tallyho. The Gryphons had probably questioned everyone there by now. Fuck.

Gunthra picked up her tea. “Payment does not need to be monetary.”

Of course not. “I’m not trading away my soul, so forget it. I’d have no more use for the information if I paid that price.”

“I have no interest in your soul.”

My hand twitched with surprise, and I knocked the remains of my scone on the floor. “Well, that’s a refreshing change.”

“Indeed.” A devious smile slipped over Gunthra’s face. “Your soul is useless to me.”

Was she serious? I didn’t trust her in the slightest, and yet my heart beat faster. “Just to you? What do you mean? Because I’ve never heard of a pred turning down a soul trade, even if they can’t use the soul immediately.”

“That was a teaser. The answer to that question is the answer to all your questions. And we are back at the original impasse. How badly do you want to know?”

I gawked at her. Badly now. Very, very badly. She’d played me well. Damn. “If I can’t afford to pay you with money, and you don’t want my soul, then what are you suggesting?”

“A favor.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know yet. The information I’m offering you is no secret, technically speaking, but nor is it widely known. So I demand a favor of equal value from you in return. A favor to be named later.”

As if it were that simple.

Cold fear cooled some of my burning desire for her information. Deals with goblins were dangerous. Open-ended deals with a goblin, a goblin Dom no less, could be tantamount to suicide. Bad idea. So bad I shouldn’t even be hesitating, yet I was.

“Too loose,” I said, finding my willpower. “What you think this is worth might not be what I think—”

“Take it or leave it. No difference to me.”

Bitch. Maybe I was overestimating her. Maybe she really didn’t have something specific in mind. But still, bad idea.

Since I’d started soul swapping, I’d gotten better at making deals with goblins, but I loathed trading with them. They were greedy bastards. They’d swindle, cheat and trick you, but technically they didn’t steal. They weren’t even con artists, though people had tried accusing them of it. They were merely devious and skilled negotiators with a way with words that would make politicians jealous. Which meant that the last thing I should do was owe a goblin an unspecified favor. Gunthra’s information might be worth a lot, but I’d walk away from this deal the loser. Guaranteed.

I exhaled slowly, trying to release some of my disappointment. Gunthra’s teaser hung in the air between us. My secret, my riddle. So close, so far.

Screw it. Some debt was too high.

“Then I leave it.” I stood.

Gunthra’s eyes opened wide. Guess she hadn’t seen that coming. “Sleep on it.” She rose as well and clapped.

The door-goblin returned.

“Good day to you, Miss Moore.”

“And you.” I thought I did a fabulous job of keeping the annoyance out of my voice, for all the good that did.

Chapter Fifteen

Lucen and Devon had already arrived when my satyr bodyguards and I got back. I trudged down the stairs to the bar, looking forward to getting my hands on my charms and praying Lucen had actually brought them. Turning down Gunthra’s bargain left me listless even though I was certain I’d made the right decision. I needed good news in the form of a protective charm and Scumbag’s ID.

I didn’t make it two steps inside the bar, though, before Lucen rounded on me. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“Only what we’d already discussed. Trying to get information.”

“After how hard we’re working to keep you alive, you went and walked right into Gunthra’s house without any protection.” He threw a duffel bag at me.

I caught it, barely. “It’s not like she’d have let you in. The babysitters you left me had to wait outside.”

Devon snorted at the babysitters line. Lucen, however, glared at me, and my whole body flushed with desire. His eyes practically glowed, and it was both alluring and scary. Damn, when he got riled up, he threw off a ton of power. I was wicked tempted to keep goading him to see which of us would break first. Me, no doubt. But that would be okay because I could imagine the make-up sex.

And imagine and imagine…

I bit my tongue and snapped out of it. Pissed-off preds, even satyrs who might not want you dead, were bad news.

Hugging my bag closer to my chest, I carried it to the end of the room, as far from Lucen as possible.

“Did you get anything out of her?” Lucen’s voice was calmer, but he continued to watch me with an expression that suggested he’d been envisioning the same things I was.

I had to not think about that.

“No. I wouldn’t pay her price.”

Devon propped his feet up on a chair. “Really? Let me take a wild guess what that would be.”

“Not my soul. She wanted an unspecified favor.”

Lucen frowned as I unzipped the duffel bag in the ensuing silence. He glanced at Devon, but the other satyr merely wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Try not to take it personally,” Devon said. “You don’t end up a Dom by taking any soul that comes your way. Gunthra needs people with power. I mean political power. Not your unusual kind.”

Your soul is useless to me.
I froze, rummaging through the bag. Was that all her mysterious comment had been about? Had she been trying to trick me, dangle nonsense in front of me in the hope that I would think her secret was bigger and more important than it was, and that it would make me cave?

My fingers clenched around one of my knives. Goblins didn’t lie when they made deals, and Gunthra had also said her teaser was related to the rest of the information. So it couldn’t be that simple. Could it?

“Little siren?”

I shook myself out of my thoughts. “Trying to untangle her words, that’s all.” I dropped the knife back in the bag and pulled out a pink lace thong. “This is what you bring me for underwear? I didn’t even know I still had this piece of butt floss.”

The males grinned. Fabulous. I wasn’t going to get any apologies, and the rest of the underwear they’d brought wasn’t any better. Lucen and Devon laughed at my annoyance, but at least they’d brought me the other, more practical things I’d asked for. Including my protection charm.

“I’m assuming you got the ID,” I said, putting the anklet on.

Lucen nodded. “Brought your whole pack of them in case the Gryphons return to do a more thorough search of your apartment. For sin’s sake, Jess, you’ve been busy. There’s a lot of names in here.”

“There’s a lot of assholes out
there
.” And I was supposed to catch one while picking a pink lace thong out of my butt. Stupid satyrs. “Can I go take this up?” I held up the bag.

Lucen tossed Scumbag’s ID at me. “This the right one?”

“Yeah.” Pete Donovich. I hadn’t done more than glance at his ID when I took it, but I remembered his face. That was him all right in the bad photo. Nerves, or perhaps just bad memories, sent my skin tingling. I chucked the ID back at Lucen.

Devon glanced at the clock. “I’ll try to get his number and see if he’s around. If he is, I’ll call Dezzi and get some reinforcements so we can pay him a visit.”

Reinforcements? Seemed to me like two satyrs could take one human pretty easily, but that wasn’t my problem. That was Pete’s.

“You going to let me go with this time?” I asked, trailing Lucen into The Lair’s kitchen.

“If you like.”

“Good.”

“Not good, but I don’t feel like fighting with you about it.” He unlocked the door into his apartment. “The Gryphons had someone staking out your place, as we expected. It was a good thing you didn’t go.”

“Maybe. But not such a good thing for getting practical underwear. And that reminds me.” I dumped the bag in the living room and pointed my finger at him. “You can withdraw your power, can’t you? You don’t need to be blasting me with it every time I see you.”

“This again? Little siren, didn’t we cover this earlier? If I was blasting you with my power—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’d know it. But you can rein it in more than you do. Can’t you? Tell me the truth for a change.”

Lucen cocked his head from side to side. “We sort of can. It’s partially unconscious. With effort, I could hold back more, but would it make a difference?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” He stepped closer, and I started to have déjà vu from this morning. Lucen might not be angry with me anymore, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy making me suffer.

My body trembled. I should have kept my mouth shut. You’d think I’d wanted to risk my self-control this way. Wanted to keep poking Lucen until… Yeah. My eyes closed involuntarily.

“I’m pulling back on my power as much as I can.” His breath caressed my face. He must only be a couple inches from me, but I didn’t dare open my eyes to find out. “I don’t think it would make a difference, do you?”