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I took off my apron and tossed it to Rynne. As I left, my four bodyguards fell in around me, making me feel like an idiot. I hadn’t seen a trace of demon for two months, so it had probably gotten sent back to the infernal realm, or its summoner had gotten killed, and likewise, it got sent back to hell. Still, I ran like demons were after me, my fit guards around me, all of us pounding the pavement in satisfyingly good time. We could be the drum section.
I got to the Osprey, and people were milling around outside, the doors were open, and cops were setting up a parameter, blinking lights, yellow tape, the whole deal.
I ducked under the police line, and a tawny-haired cat shifter that I never wanted to see again blocked me before he squinted and looked close, then pulled away with a sneer. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to give moral support to my dearest betrothed. Get out of my way, or I’ll have Rita move you.”
Rita, my orc bodyguard, stepped close behind me, looking like she’d eat him for breakfast, hair and all.
“It’s not safe in there,” he said, but stepped aside and gestured me in, his plaid vest doing nothing to establish the seriousness of the situation. “Help yourself, or more to the point, help him. He’s gone mental.”
I jogged into the building and then had to slow down and duck for cover when a spell flew over my head and hit a group of attractive looking people who were probably detectives like Rynne wanted to be. She’d accuse me of brushing her off again, but this shouldn’t take too long, except that Percy was apparently going to war, attacking anyone who was trying to take him down.
I straightened and moved slowly towards the stage where he stood looking haunted and ragged, like a zombie some psycho necromancer had dug from his grave. He spread his palm, ready for a cast that would suck a lot of energy out of him, but also probably take down everyone on this side of the room. If the fall of bodies was any indication, he’d been using a lot of those things. No one was dead, just stunned, but still, not nice magic to be throwing around at people who were just trying to help you. Maybe he had gone insane.
His eyes met mine, and he froze his casting, the ball of energy in his hand flickering and fading as we stared at each other, and a bug crawled across his face.
I shuddered for him, but he didn’t seem to notice the thing. It rose up, right under his eye, and then bit a big chunk of flesh out, burrowing in, like one of the dozen black lumps on his arms and neck.
I was going to throw up, but he didn’t even flinch. What the crap was wrong with him? I ran, leaping onto the stage, and then yanked that revolting dead creature out of his face before it could really get in good. It was going to take hours to dig them all out, and it would be so disgusting.
I grabbed his hand and dragged him out of there, out the back way where I’d come earlier. My bodyguards blocked everyone who followed us, and when we reached the alley, Miss Tertrue was waiting at the end with her car.
I shoved him in the back and climbed in after him right before the lion shifter burst out the back door, apparently having made it past my bodyguards. Cats were wily. He pointed at me, then at his eyes. Yeah, he’d be watching me. I waved back and then we were out of sight as our getaway driver took off.
I opened the window and held the bug I’d dragged out of his face up in the air. It took three minutes of that awkward position for Poe to snatch it, and dive into the window in one feathery flop. He landed on my leg and then gave me a look.
Your spell was too strong.
“No, it’s his sanity that’s too weak.”
What do you expect from a love-bound gargoyle?
“Nothing. Who told you about that? Were you spying on me at my dad’s house?”
He bobbed his head forward and yanked a bug out of Percy’s arm and crunched it with a little pop of blue fire. The remnants fluttered down, inanimate, released from their pseudo life.
Percy was very quiet while I and Poe dug bugs out of his flesh and crushed them. I had to do it in my fingers or they wouldn’t break. Somehow I’d given them super strength that could only be defeated by me, since I’d created them.
I picked seven out of his chest while Poe dug some out of his back. His neck was covered in the shiny black, revolting things, but they’d saved his face for last.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said when I was almost finished.
I glared at him. “I didn’t see you doing it. No, you had to make me regret my vengeful instincts in the worst possible way. You are the most obstinate, treacherous, cruel, vile, horrible person in the world.”
“I know.”
I snarled at him. He didn’t know. How could he have the slightest idea what it had been like for me to get so anxious before I came to work every day, worrying that he’d strike, and then he would, and it was never what I expected or prepared for, but it always made me feel like a nobody who could be picked on, because no one else cared what happened to me.
“You made me feel like the ugliest, most worthless person, just because I wasn’t rich or pretty enough. I hated my life for two years, because I was always afraid of what you’d do. I couldn’t quit, because every time I was going to, I’d get a ridiculous raise, and things were really tight at home. The healery wasn’t doing the best business, and you made my life miserable. Every day you weren’t actively hurting me was psychological torture, but I got used to it, determined, and I got you back. I started anticipating you, out-strategizing you, and then you quit, but there was always that awful possibility that one of those days you’d be bored with school work and renew your interest in me. I don’t want to be the vicious person who gets a thrill out of someone else’s pain. I won’t be that person, but I won’t be the person who lets other people walk all over me, either. I’m not going to punish you, because you are none of my concern. We are not betrothed. We have never been betrothed, and we will never be betrothed. I want nothing to do with you and your twisted, psychotic mind. Stop the car, Tertrue.”
She slammed on the brakes, and I would have gotten thrown to the floor if Percy hadn’t caught me, pulling back before I could shove his hands off.
“I understand,” he said, looking at me with big, luminous, sad eyes, like he still had a million bugs embedded in his flesh, but I’d finished pulling out every last disgusting one.
I swallowed hard. “If I were you, I’d wash all of your wounds out and put some healing ointment on them, but suit yourself.” I leaned over him to open the door and gestured him out.
“Good night,” he said softly and left, wearing no shirt, with so many open wounds it made my skin crawl and my eyes burn with something that may have been tears. He shut the door, leaving me in the backseat with Poe, who rested his head on my shoulder because he knew I needed a hug.
