Misery Happens (2 page)

Chapter Two

Lucen’s hands shot out and snagged my wrists, and he wrestled me to the ground. I was still yelling irrationally at Claudius when Lucen’s power crept over my senses and I realized I was holding a deadly blade dangerously close to him.

As quickly as my outburst came on, my blind rage broke. Panic overwhelmed me, and I dropped the knife. Lucen seized the opening and pinned my arms with his own, and I could sense his chest rising and falling against my back. Giving in to his body’s rhythm, my own breathing slowed, and my emotions settled back to normal.

What the hell? I’d been ready to kill Claudius, and while goodness knew I owed him a solid kick to his ancient satyr jewels, I did not go around murdering people for being assholes. Even my bad temper had limits.

With a great expression of concern, Tom inched forward and picked up Misery. “Jessica, are you feeling all right?”

Claudius wiped invisible dirt from his silk shirt. “Clearly, she’s not. She’s lost her mind.”

“I…” Dragon shit on toast. I hated agreeing with his Upper Council Asshole, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Something like that. I don’t know what came over me. I’m fine now.”

Lucen released me, and I sighed. Being pressed up against him had been the lone bonus of my emotional breakdown, although I was aware that the Gryphons from
Le Confrérie
were looking at us funny, and it wasn’t merely due to my irrational behavior. The Gryphons couldn’t accept that Lucen and I had a relationship that was more than predator and prey, even though they were the ones who’d made me a quasi-satyr in the first place.

“It’s this instability. The stress is getting to us all.” Dezzi’s silver watch gleamed against her dark skin as she made a show of checking the time. “The Council’s flight landed twenty minutes ago. Where are they?”

Lucen ran his hands through his blond waves, his face filled with concern. “I hate to bring this up, but, Jess, I thought you and anger…”

Wetting my lips, I retrieved my knife from Tom. “I know. I don’t understand it. Maybe it’s like Dezzi said. Maybe it’s been building inside me since we got back from Paris and the stress finally released it.”

Maybe, but that explanation didn’t stand up to scrutiny. In reality, Claudius’s nastiness had been no worse than any dozen insinuations he’d made my way in the last few days. And it sure wasn’t worse than the emotional trauma of attending Olef’s funeral or standing over Devon’s cursed, unconscious body. Yet another thing I wanted Raj’s head for.

So why this? Why now? I didn’t like it. My stomach twisted, and I spat my barely chewed gum into a tissue. I’d almost choked on it when I’d lost my shit, and after everything I’d been through, I’d be damned if it was a piece of peppermint gum that did me in.

“Jess, what’s this about you and anger?” Tom asked.

Oops. With everything else going on, I must have forgotten to mention that particular aftereffect of having Raj invade my head. I didn’t really want to discuss it now, not with Claudius eyeing me with great curiosity. As if I needed to give him another excuse to call me inferior.

“Ah, there they are.” Dezzi quit tapping her foot as the terminal doors opened, and I was saved from responding by the arrival of the new Upper Council satyr. I should have been relieved, except I was about to have to deal with another satyr who would probably be as unpleasant as Claudius. And like Claudius, would hold me in particular disdain for being abnormal.

Nonetheless, I straightened my spine and did my part to appear professional, or at the very least, nonconfrontational. “About time,” I muttered. “Let’s get this package wrapped up and go home.”

The three satyrs who’d exited the terminal building hadn’t bothered hiding their horns, and they were accompanied by six badass-looking human lust addicts, all packing visible heat. I’d thought it was more evidence of their arrogance when I’d learned they’d be traveling by private jet, but apparently there were practical reasons as well. They weren’t dumb enough to travel without heavy protections.

And Claudius had been arguing for discretion. Ha. At least his fellow Upper Council member was too smart to bother with that.

It was simple to pick out which of the three new satyrs was the Council member and which others were either assistants or bodyguards. For starters, only one of those satyrs gave off the telltale sign that she was wicked powerful.

In general, I was immune to pred magic unless the pred was touching me, but Claudius had proven to be an exception. The female satyr in the middle of the arrivals was too. I could sense her power before the group crossed the first lane of traffic, a scent I couldn’t name but which made me think of warm spices, cool silks and sand between my toes. As did her tan skin and waist-length black hair. Her suit was impeccably white and form-fitting, her heels high and her face flawless in spite of the six-hour flight from Los Angeles.

I couldn’t help but be jealous. Sure, while I didn’t have to worry about hiding horns if I wanted to blend in, I wouldn’t have minded inheriting half of whatever appearance-related mojo seemed to come naturally to all normal satyrs.

“Raia.” Claudius stepped toward the crosswalk, for the first time smiling in such a genuine way that it didn’t inspire fantasies of me decking him.

Given the constant background rumble of the airport traffic, I didn’t know how she could have heard him say her name, but the female satyr smiled back. Intrigued by this almost friendly interaction, I didn’t realize at first that the Gryphons’ nervousness was on the rise.

Before I had a chance to figure out what was going on with Tom and the others, tires squealed and a large SUV raced around the corner. Eating its exhaust came five giant Harleys. The roar of their engines echoing off the terminal lot was deafening, and the curses their riders wielded—that was blinding. I saw the group of visiting satyrs scramble to get out of the lane of the speeding bikes, saw the Gryphons and Dezzi’s satyr bodyguards rush forward with weapons drawn. Then the parking lot vanished.

Several people shouted, and I cursed. Instinctively, I dropped to a crouch and whipped out the special gun the Gryphons had given me. Even as I did, Tom was on top of the situation. I heard a pop among the noise, and a bright light flooded the area. Some kind of magical flare visibly pushed the unnatural darkness aside.

What I saw almost made me wish I were blind again. The furies on the bikes had apparently been protected against the temporary darkness, and they circled the new satyrs and their addicts, trying to keep them contained. In their upraised hands, they carried long, salamander fire-forged swords, and they swung them wildly but with obvious purpose, herding the group into a tighter formation. Meanwhile, the two non-Council satyrs and the addict guards had dropped their luggage and were starting to fight back with their own deadly blades and firepower.

A noose of fear wrapped around me. I wasn’t sure where to aim or whether I should. I only had eight of the Gryphons’ special, pred-killing rounds. Eight shots, and my aim was not the best. Plus, while Claudius and Dezzi held back, Lucen had run to join the fighting. I couldn’t risk hitting him.

The Gryphons, naturally, didn’t share my concern. Nor did the guards who were trapped by the furies. They were taking aim at the riders, and the shots were going everywhere.

Shit. I darted closer to the nearest car as the air filled with bullets, and not a moment too soon. The SUV’s doors burst open, and four more furies poured out. I had a second to notice that one of them was Raj before they too began shooting at us.

Tom skidded next to me under a hail of fire. “Protect the package at all costs.”

I knew he was right, knew that was our priority, but I feared for what that cost might be. I also didn’t know where the Vessel of Making was. Presumably someone had stuffed it into one of the suitcases, but it was far too dangerous to dash into the melee when I had no idea which piece of luggage I needed to grab.

Through the haze of smoke, I saw that one of the furies had been knocked off his bike, and one of the addicts was down too. But beyond that, it was too dangerous to stick my head up for long. The noise bouncing off the walls and the stench of the gunpowder alone were almost incapacitating.

Bracing myself, I poked my head around the car’s trunk long enough to fire in Raj’s general direction, and I ducked back to safety as a couple bullets lodged themselves in the nearest taillight, shattering it. Sweat rolled down my back and made keeping my grip on the gun challenging. Something about this whole situation struck me as wrong. All this gunfire was unusual for preds.

While I coughed from the smoke, a shriek pierced the commotion and someone shouted, “Go!” Tom sprinted around the car. Adjusting my grip, I stood on shaky legs, ready to take another shot.

But as I searched for an opening so I wouldn’t hit any of my allies, Raj caught my eye. At well over six feet, with red-and-black glyphs tattooed on his face, he was kind of attention-grabbing in a way that could give small children nightmares. But it wasn’t his appearance that drew my awareness. He held my gaze with something far stronger.

The tightened sensation in my gut intensified until the chaos of the fighting drained from my consciousness. There was nothing else in the airport terminal but the two of us. Nothing in me except my rage. Just like I’d been craving Claudius’s blood moments ago, bloodlust for a certain fury narrowed my world to a single thought.

Kill.

Whereas my reaction to Claudius had been irrational, this was not. More to the point, deep inside, I now understood the reason why I’d attacked Claudius. My temper had been set off by Raj being so close. He was in my head still.

I didn’t understand how it was possible because I wasn’t an addict. Thanks to Claudius, I knew what it felt like to be one, and besides, my company would have noticed if I was. But there was also no denying that the feeling I got when I looked at Raj was the same feeling I had when I created an addict-like bond between myself and a human.

Something was wrong here. Very, very wrong, and there was only one way to handle it.

I was going to kill Raj.

A niggling voice in the back of my mind reminded me that wasn’t my goal. I was supposed to be protecting something. But what that something was had vanished, and I bade the voice to go away. It had no ability to influence me. My focus was all-consuming. Anger was all I knew.

Blood. Kill. Fury.

I screamed, letting the emotion erupt from my chest, but in the confusion I doubted anyone noticed. From the corner of my eye, I could tell there was commotion among the Gryphons and satyrs. Could tell the furies were gaining the upper hand.

Raj barked some kind of order to his people and grabbed one of the Harleys. He was going to get away. The evil bastard thought he was leaving. Like hell he was.

I’d ridden to this party myself, not wanting to be crammed into a vehicle with the Gryphons, or worse, trapped in a car with Claudius or any other Upper Council members on the drive home. My precious Dragon’sWing was parked several spots away, luckily out of the direction of the fighting. Taking a deep breath, I sprinted toward it.

For a moment, my back was exposed to the hailstorm of lead, and I could sense a bullet flying near my skull. Then I swung my legs around the motorcycle’s familiar seat and started the engine.

The guttural thunder of the furies’ bikes grew louder. Raj wasn’t the only one making a getaway, but he was the only one who mattered. Even now, my sight homed in on him as I scanned the terminal. The magical rope that bound us was in place, yet if it functioned like my bond with humans, it would grow weaker the farther away he got. Eventually, it would snap.

I couldn’t allow that. I might not get another chance. Besides, whatever that something was that I was supposed to be worried about, the same voice in the back of my head was convinced Raj would have it. Raj was the furies’ Boston Dom, just as Raj was one of the ringleaders who’d set the demons free. Every direction led back to him.

Lucen shouted my name as I stuck my helmet on, but I ignored his voice. To my left, Raj was disappearing down the long terminal, and the magic connecting us was stretching. I couldn’t see it, but feeling it was enough. I imagined it attaching me to him like some evil umbilical cord as I gunned my engine and took off.

Whoever designed airports had a cruel sense of humor. The lanes twisted and turned, sometimes sharply. Off ramps and on ramps circled the terminal buildings in a maze, and when combined with the usual airport traffic, staying on Raj’s tail would have been damned near impossible if I had to rely on sight to keep up. The bond, however, didn’t care if I had to stop abruptly for an airport shuttle or take a corner blindly. I could tell where he turned even if I couldn’t always tell where I was going.

Raj’s bike had the more powerful engine, but my Dragon’sWing was built for speed and maneuverability. Between my legs, the bike thrummed with my tension, urging me to go faster than the traffic would allow. If only Raj would pull onto a highway. I wanted to leave behind the humid, exhaust-choked air.

But more than that, I wanted to kill Raj. The chase would be fun, but catching him would be satisfying. Determination pulsed in my veins with my heartbeat. My vision rendered the world as red as the sky above.

I followed him until he plowed through a cheap metal fence that blocked off a closed parking lot. As the contraption went flying, skittering across the uneven and damaged asphalt, Raj spun his bike around.

Got you,
I thought, but then I realized he was reaching for something. A gun. And I was aiming straight toward him with no cover.

The next few seconds were a blur. Not even adrenaline could save me from the pain. Raj fired, I tried to duck, and in doing so, I couldn’t avoid the patch of broken blacktop in front of me. My bike went careening out from beneath my legs. In the split second before I crashed into the pavement, amazement washed over me. So this would be how I died. Flayed and broken at the fucking airport.

So much for that magi prophecy of how I was supposed to save the world.