What was I thinking? The best thing I could do for her—the best thing I could do for anyone—was keep them far away from me and my hunger.
“Well, we do have a lunch date,” I said, trying to keep it light.
“Yes,” she said. “We do.”
“I’m not going to give you any information, though,” I said.
“I understand that. I’m sure we’ll find something else to talk about.”
“Good. Oh, and, Dessa, if I were you, I’d give up on the revenge business.”
She shook her head and lifted her hand away from my knee. “No,” she said quietly, “you wouldn’t.”
I gave her half a smile before she turned to walk away. She was absolutely right. When it came to revenge, there was nothing on this earth that could stop me.
Chapter 12
Dessa said good-bye to Dash, got the address of the pizza place, and was gone.
“Maybe you should invest in a bulletproof vest,” Dash said as he picked up the stray coffee cups and returned them to the coffee station.
“Wouldn’t do me any good,” I said. “I don’t think she’d aim at my heart.”
“Bulletproof jockstrap?”
I grinned. “Helmet. I think if I really crossed her, she’d take me down with one clean shot.”
He chuckled and walked off tugging at the cuffs of his shirt. The windows were bright enough, there was no use denying day had arrived. The pulse of the city was pumping.
I sat at one of the empty desks and tried to push the spike of hunger away. Nothing here to consume, Flynn. No one deserved that kind of death.
I rolled my fingers, grinding the rings between them, the metallic scrape becoming a rhythm to cover the song of the living. I closed my eyes and tried to lose myself to it.
Dash set something down beside me with a clunk.
I opened my eyes.
“I hate this plant,” he said.
Then he turned his back and walked toward the half-filled boxes by my old desk and started packing again.
I glanced down at the plant. A fern, I think. Did a check on the room: Eleanor wandering between desks, Terric and Clyde standing between the offices, talking quietly, Dash packing crap out of my desk.
No one was watching me.
I took a breath. Control would be good. Focused on the fern. This, just this one plant, was all the life I could have. So I was going to savor every damn frond.
I dragged the fingertip of my left hand gently along one arching branch of the thing, drawing out the life slowly, leaf by leaf, all the way to the arrow-sharp end, draining it, killing it. Reducing it to fragile brown bones.
I licked my lips, and my finger trembled just a bit as I moved on to the next branch. Repeated the process. Then again. And again. Slow as I could. Like a ritual. Like this would be the last life I’d ever taste. Like it could fill the endless hungry hole inside me.
Didn’t work. Nothing stopped the hunger.
Still, it was something. An offering to the monster. Enough to keep me in the clear for a few more minutes.
Which, really, was as good as it was going to get.
“...or are you going to walk?” Terric was asking as he strode across the room.
I glanced up, then around. Yep, he was talking to me.
About that time he noticed the dead plant next to me. His expression shifted from annoyed to something else.
“I’ll drive,” he said a little more gently. “Dash, I’m sorry to leave you with the packing. I’ll try to be back this afternoon.”
Dash gave Terric a smile. “The last thing you need to worry about right now is paperwork,” he said. “I got this. Good luck at the meeting.”
“See you boys soon,” Clyde said.
“Shame?” Terric pointed toward the door. “Let’s go.”
So we went. Hallway, elevator, street with people headed to work, headed to breakfast, headed home, and finally, his car.
I ducked in, my heart pounding too hard.
“Are you . . .”
“I’m hungry,” I said.
“Do you want—”
“No. Don’t. Just don’t talk to me for the drive.”
Terric started the car. That was the last of the world I paid attention to other than Eleanor’s cold hand resting against the back of my neck, which did some little good to cool the fire burning in me.
I closed my eyes behind my sunglasses and pushed the life around me away, far away.
If I could disappear in my head for a year, it wouldn’t be long enough.
Came to with the scent of bacon filling my senses.
Opened my eyes. I was still sitting in the passenger’s side of the car. The engine was not running. The car was parked. Eleanor was nowhere to be seen.
“Morning,” Zayvion said. He was sitting in the driver’s side of the car with a plate piled high with bacon. A fresh cup of coffee steamed in the cup holder.
“This is . . . odd,” I said.
“Eat,” he said. “You’re not going into that inn until you do.”
He shoved the plate of bacon at me, and I took it because, hey, free bacon. “Why?” I asked after I folded and ate three slices at once.
“You tuned out on the way over here. Terric said you needed food. There’s coffee.” He pointed.
I reached over, took the coffee, drank. Lots of sugar, lots of cream. Just how I liked it. Come to think of it, the bacon was just how I liked it too.
“I was just resting my eyes,” I said.
“Bullshit,” Zay said. His brown eyes were flecked with gold. So he was a little angry. Or ready to call on magic. Maybe ready to shut me down.
He was a good man.
“Do I look that dangerous, mate?”
He took a minute before he answered, then, “Yes. Terric said you haven’t been eating. And you’re having trouble controlling magic.”
“And you believed him?”
“Is he wrong?”
I gulped down coffee, set the cup on my knee. “He worries too much. And is upset about losing his job.”
“That’s not what I asked you,” Zay said. “Are you listening to me, Shame?”
“Of course.”
He gave me a look. I stopped, put the bacon down, wiped my fingers on my jeans, and turned toward him, pressing my shoulder against the door. “You have all the attention I have left, Jones. What?”
“Allie’s pregnant.”
Holy. Shit.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Shut it. Tried again. “Hell yes! Congratulations, mate! That’s . . . It’s yours, right?”
He punched my arm. Hard.
“Ow!”
“Of course it’s mine,” he said.
“I’m . . . without words. Damn. This is great news. Happy news. Mr. Jones is going to be a papa. How’s that sitting with you?”
Some of the anger and tension drained out of him, replaced by a kind of nervousness I hadn’t seen since we were teens. “I’m thrilled?” He nodded, and exhaled. “A little terrified at times.”
“And Allie? How’s she taking it?”
He smiled. That head-over-heels-in-love look that hadn’t faded in all these years shone up the place. “She’s amazing. Calm. Happy. Beautiful.”
“So what does this happy news have to do with bacon?”
“She’s in the inn. My pregnant wife is in there, Shame. And I need you to be in control when you’re around her. We’re taking precautions until she gets through her first trimester with the baby. She and I aren’t using magic. Not together. Not at all, so far. The doctors . . . There isn’t any information on how breaking magic will affect an unborn baby. So we’re being careful. Very careful. And I need to know you won’t hurt her.”
I could get mad at that. My best friend didn’t trust me. But he was right to be worried about this. He was right to keep his baby and Allie safe from me.
“So?” Zay said. “How are you doing with Death magic? Really.”