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Strange Fates Page 22
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“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 proble
ms 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!”
I tapped Brad on the shoulder and hit him the second he turned around. My knuckle snagged on some of his man jewelry, but he went down like a brick. I picked him up by the collar and smacked him again.
“Stop it!” Elizabeth said.
I kept pounding on him until Talbot grabbed my arm. “Calm down,” he said. “It’s time we went home. Before someone calls the cops.”
I shrugged him off and stalked outside, fuming. My hands clenched with the effort it took for me not to go back into the bar and beat Brad into a pulp.
“Nyx, wait up,” Elizabeth called out, but I kept walking.
“Leave me alone,” I said.
“I wanted to tell you,” she said.
I whirled around. “Don’t ever lie to me again,” I said.
“I won’t, I promise,” she said. A glimmer of hope lit her face, and I felt like a heel for what I was about to say.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do the job for you,” I said.
She gave me a relieved smile. “That’s great, Nyx. You won’t regret it.”
I would, more than she would ever know. “And then I never want to see you again.”
The light went out of her eyes. “Whatever you want,” she said in a monotone.
I crossed my arms over my chest to stop myself from taking her into my arms. “That’s what I want.”
Without another word, she walked away.
Lucky in cards, unlucky in love, that was me. I sat down hard on the curb. I noticed the cut on my hand and put my knuckles to my lips, tasting the sharp tang of my own blood. Even while I was beating the shit out of him, Brad had managed to make me bleed.
Worse, Jasper had taken advantage of my distraction and disappeared.
There was probably a lesson in there somewhere, but I was too tired to look for it. I put my head in my hands, ignoring the fact that I’d sat in a portion of suspiciously slimy sidewalk.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Talbot passed out at around three in the morning, but not even the massive amount of alcohol I’d consumed could stop the humming in my brain.
I called a taxi, which dropped me off in Elizabeth’s neighborhood. I staggered down to the lake. “Willow, come out, come out, wherever you are.”
I plopped down at the shore’s edge. A minute later, she was next to me. She smelled sandy, but warm, like a day spent at the lake. Not like winter at all.
She stared at me for a moment, and clapped her hands. “She’s broken your heart, just as I said she would.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“But I am,” she admitted. “Very happy. There is something about you that is pleasing to my eyes.”
“You smell good,” I said.
“Spring,” she whispered.
I leaned in to kiss her, but she pushed me away. “Not like this.”
I almost tipped over. Drunk, I realized. “Like what?” I asked, but my words slurred, so it sounded more like, “Lick wah?”
“You are broken,” she said. “Weak. Not the son of Fortuna.”
That was the last thing I remembered before I passed out.
* * *
I woke up, dehydrated and unsure where I was. It was dark, except for a single wavering candle near me. I was lying in a cave, on a pile of fur, naked. There was a warm female body next to me, also naked. Willow. Alcohol-blurred images flashed in my mind. My head throbbed in time, as if someone was using my skull as a drum. I had an even bigger headache than the one pounding my temples. Willow. Naiads were legendary for their sexual appetites, but they were also legendary for their vengeance if scorned.
I’d slept with someone I didn’t love before, but never while I was in love with someone else. I’d never been in love before, so I didn’t know the proper etiquette. Even though Elizabeth had taken a sledgehammer to my heart, I loved her.
I wanted to reach for my pants and sneak out of there, but instead I put a hand on Willow’s bare shoulder. “Willow, I’m sorry, but I have to leave.” I hoped my hand wouldn’t come away a blood stump.
She sat up and gave me a sleepy smile. “Good-bye, son of Fortuna.”
“Last night, it was…” I began awkwardly.
“Two friends giving each other comfort,” she said. “That is all.”
I tried to mask the relief I felt, but I wasn’t entirely successful. She tossed me my pants with a littl
e more force than necessary. I shrugged into my clothes, but swayed on my feet.
She didn’t stir from her fur and left me to find my own way out of the cave.
I had to stop once to throw up, but I finally found my way home. The next time I woke up, I was in my own bed and Talbot stood over me. “There’s a bucket over there,” he said. Right before I heaved. Repeatedly.
My throbbing head only emphasized how stupid I’d been. Images of my night with Willow kept resurfacing, no matter how hard I tried to block them out, which made other parts of me throb.
What kind of man loves one woman and sleeps with another? Elizabeth had betrayed me, but that didn’t erase how I felt about her, no matter how much I wanted it to. I hadn’t been able to drink, fight, or fuck her out of my system. Instead, I’d made things worse.
My stomach lurched and I rolled over to heave again. Maybe having the marrow sucked out of me by an irate naiad was what I deserved. Once my stomach was empty, I closed my eyes and slept.
* * *
When I woke up again, my mouth felt like I’d been sucking on felt. I staggered into the living room. Talbot was sleeping on the couch. I threw a blanket over him.
I nursed my hangover with some aspirin and a Sprite. I’d slept most of the morning away. I made a pot of strong coffee as quietly as I could, but Talbot stirred and stretched.
“What time is it?” he said with a yawn.
“Almost noon,” I told him.
“What happened to you last night?” he asked.
“I spent the night at Willow’s.”
There was a long silence.
“What were you doing? Trying death by naiad?” Talbot commented.
“There are worst ways to die.” I said.
“I thought you’d grown out of your death wish,” he said.
“Things change,” I said.
He walked to the coffeepot and poured a cup. “What about Willow? How does she feel about the whole thing?”
“She was fine with it.”
“A naiad who was seduced and abandoned is fine with it? Yeah, that sounds right.” His voice was overflowing with sarcasm.
“Willow’s my friend,” I said defensively.
“Elizabeth’s not worth throwing your life away,” he said.