Dirty Little Misery (Miss Misery) Read online

  “Jess, you okay?” Andre had his arms raised, the same gun at his back that had been at mine. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, so Lucrezia either had given her goon his description or there weren’t a whole lot of guys wandering around a closed club this time of night.

  “Yeah.” I sighed. Was this the time to start offering apologies, or was it better etiquette to wait until our fates were officially announced? “I’m fine.”

  “That doesn’t look like Devon,” Andre said with a weak smile.

  Lucrezia left Guy Two at my side and walked over to Andre. “You’re so observant. And so pretty.” She ran a finger down Andre’s cheek, and I could taste revulsion beneath the lust she naturally invoked. It was like eating ice cream made from spoiled milk, rich and sweet with an undercurrent of something gag-inducing.

  Lucrezia took her time searching Andre’s pockets until she’d satisfactorily molested him and seized his phone, badge and salamander-forged knife. Andre kept his face impassive, but the only people he was fooling with his stoicism were the addicts. I could tell he didn’t blame me for our predicament, although that wasn’t much consolation since he should have been blaming me.

  “It’s a shame to kill the pretty ones,” Lucrezia said, setting his belongings on the table next to mine. “But I don’t have much choice this time. With two Gryphons dead by Angelia’s F and evidence planted on you both that leads them straight to her, the organization will react swiftly and deadly. She’ll be gone, and Dezzi will be in big trouble with the Gryphons and the Upper Council. And finally we’ll gain some real leadership around here.”

  I wanted to challenge her, do the whole “you’ll never succeed because…” spiel that always seemed to work in the movies. But alas, she already had succeeded. I couldn’t think of a reason why she wouldn’t continue to get her way after I was dead, and I couldn’t think of a way to prevent my dying.

  Yet some part of me refused to give up. So long as I breathed I wasn’t going to get all teary and sentimental and wish I’d done things differently. So long as I breathed, I was going to spend my energy fighting. All the reasons to get teary sentimental were the same reasons worth fighting for—Lucen, my mom, Steph. Not to mention finding out what was in that damn file Ben had sent me.

  I’d start fighting with something brilliant any minute now. I had a ton of energy flowing through me, a massive hit of fear and anger. My own and Andre’s. There was no way I couldn’t channel this into a plan.

  Any damn second.

  Lucrezia tapped her finger against her lips. “I think it’ll be too messy if I leave you down here to die. Up to the Blue Room then. Darlings, get them moving.”

  “Yeah, you know blood’s a real bitch to clean off vinyl,” Andre said, as we were nudged forward at gunpoint once more. “You might prefer to do this elsewhere and spare your business.”

  Whatever he had in mind for a plan, it didn’t matter. Lucrezia laughed lightly. “Blood’s not what I’m concerned about. Although if you get bloody, that could be entertaining. Jess probably is the sort who likes it rough.”

  I clenched my jaw. “She’s going to kill us like the other F victims.”

  “Oh. Great. No offense, Jess.”

  “None taken.”

  Lucrezia unhooked the velvet rope at the bottom of the stairs. “You both are so cute. Jess, just think—if you’d stuck to humans, I might not have needed to resort to such drastic measures. In a way, this is all your fault.”

  “Whatever it takes to clear your conscience, Crezi.” It was a small satisfaction, but satisfaction nonetheless, to see the smirk fall off her face at the hated nickname.

  The addict goons marched us up to the Blue Room, the same room where Devon had once stored the people who’d fallen victim to Lucrezia’s schemes that one Friday. When we were all huddled inside, Lucrezia pulled two items from the bag she was carrying.

  Andre coughed, and as I glanced at him, he nodded almost imperceptibly. So this was it. If Lucrezia was going to kill us, we would go down fighting. It made sense to do it here. The room was too small for the addicts to risk shooting.

  I nodded back at Andre, then steeled myself.

  Lucrezia must have noticed the change in our emotional states. She barely had time to utter “Don’t!” before Andre went on the offensive.

  He fell backward into the closest addict, knocking them both into the wall. That was the last I saw of him because I took advantage of the momentary confusion to slam my foot into the knee of the guy who was holding me. Spinning around, I lunged for his arm and for the gun. Mostly, I wanted to make sure he didn’t shoot by accident. Lucrezia had said they were both ex-special forces, so theoretically they shouldn’t be twitchy, but who knew. They were also addicts.

  Of course, addict or not, ex-special forces also meant they knew how to fight. I wasn’t facing Victor Aubrey here. I might have been able to hold my own against an untrained crazy man, but all other things being equal, the guy with the leverage and strength had a big advantage.

  That wasn’t me.

  “Pin him down!” Lucrezia screamed. She sounded seriously pissed off, but she must have been referring to Andre. My partner was nothing but a pile of limbs in my peripheral vision.

  Guy Two dropped his gun and grabbed for my arms. White-hot pain shot through my recently healed wrist, his fingers crushing me. I deflected his attempt to snatch my other arm but succeeded in losing my balance in the process. My leg crossed with his, and down we went. My tailbone smacked the floor, and the addict and I cursed in unison as he landed on me.

  Then something wet hit me in the face. All at once, my world turned upside down. The floor seemed to fall away beneath me, and the worst vertigo I’d ever experienced turned my insides to vomit. Vaguely, I was aware of the addict climbing off me, but although I was free, I could do nothing. The room spun in wild circles, color and form streaking together. Closing my eyes only made the falling sensation worse, but I did it anyway, and I curled into a fetal position, grasping at the cold tiles beneath me.

  So this was what it felt like to be hit with a disorientation curse. Fuck.

  “Move,” I heard Lucrezia say. “You’d better hold them down while I do this.”

  Oh so slowly, I shuffled left and cracked my eyelids. Andre was down for the count too, lying on his back with his arms draped over his face.

  Powerful hands grabbed me from behind, and I almost lost it on the floor. Only the sheer determination not to die covered in vomit helped me keep my lips together. The addict shoved me into a sitting position. My eyelids fluttered, and I groaned as my head flopped to the side.

  Smooth fingers forced my mouth open. Lucrezia. I opened my eyes the rest of the way, and she stuffed something sweet on my tongue. I wanted to spit it out, but she held my jaw shut and it dissolved quickly.

  “Just the F, pet. You’ll like it.” Then she was gone, doing the same to Andre. When she returned, she pushed up my shirtsleeve and drew a mark on my upper arm. My weak struggle merely resulted in her addict squeezing me harder.

  I breathed deeply when she moved over to Andre for his glyph. Already my head was starting to clear, the curse’s effects wearing off. But it was too late. She’d gotten the F into me. The glyph was drawn.

  I slumped against the wall as the addict let go of me, unable to stand. Above me, Lucrezia wiped her hands together. “The drug should kick in around the time the curse has fully worn off. As fun as this might be to watch, I need to go do that paperwork I promised Devon or he’ll get suspicious. Enjoy yourselves, pets. I’ll be back in a few hours, but you should be dead by then.”

  As she shut the door on us, I heard her tell one of her addicts to wait outside.

  Andre, who seemed to be reeling worse from the disorientation curse than I was, struggled to sit up. “This is why I should have known better than to laugh at any of those stiff jokes the Newton cops were throwing ar
ound.” He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. “Bad karma.”

  I rubbed my arm where Lucrezia had drawn her cursed glyph, but the mark stuck to me like a bad tattoo. The magic ink didn’t even smudge.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Andre said.

  “Yeah, I know. A girl can’t help trying though.”

  “Hey, please try. Try anything you can think of.” He rested his head against the wall. “How are you feeling? Still dizzy?”

  I quit the useless rubbing and assessed myself. The floor didn’t feel solid and everything blurred if I moved too fast, but the nausea was gone. I could probably stand if I tried, but for how long? I was in no state to attempt to overpower the guard Lucrezia had left. “I’m getting better.”

  Or maybe worse. Already, I could sense my body reacting to the F, and possibly the curse. I was getting warm, and my skin was increasingly aware of the feel of my clothes. Rough denim dug into my thighs. My bra scraped at my all-too-sensitive nipples. I held still, focusing on my breaths, searching within me for something grounding. Something to drive away the sensations. Something to fight for.

  Like Lucen.

  Okay, not Lucen. Bad idea. Thoughts about him weren’t helping, but oh, I wanted nothing more than to think of him.

  “It’s hitting you too, isn’t it?” Andre’s voice was thick, and he slid to the floor, lying on his back. “You’re staring into space.”

  “I am?” I blinked and tried to focus on Andre, but that was also a mistake. My partner looked really good right now. Really good. Why hadn’t I ever noticed how good before? Those warm eyes. That smooth, tan skin. He had cheekbones sharp as knives. I’d never dated a guy who shaved his head before, and I wanted to know what it would feel like to run my fingers over his scalp.

  Then keep them running right on down his body, over his broad chest, down his abs… Shit.

  Andre was staring at me too. I could see the desire in his face but could barely taste it. Either the F or Lucrezia’s glyph had to be interfering with my gift.

  “Jess, we’ve got to think.”

  “I am thinking.” Just of all the wrong things. I dug my nails into my palms. Pain usually snapped me out of any stupor, but it wasn’t helping this time. Even pain felt good. “How long did it take for Natalie and her friends to come off this?”

  It took Andre a while to answer. “Hours, and the medics gave them sedatives on the way to the hospital.”

  “Oh. Damn.” I’d forgotten the sedatives part.

  I was starting to forget everything, in fact. My brain felt like it was getting duller and duller. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to feel, and I knew just what I wanted to feel. If Andre and I weren’t resisting as best we could, I was certain I’d already be lying on top of him.

  “Rope,” I muttered, forcing my thoughts out of the gutter. “How come we don’t have anything like that in here?” The room was barren except for a long, banquet-style table and a few chairs.

  “Rope, huh?”

  “Not for that. But if we could tie ourselves down, maybe we could wait it out.”

  “I’m not sure that would work, but I don’t see any rope anyway.”

  I gave up and collapsed to the floor. My body was starting to hurt with repressed longing. It built inside me, triggering memories of Natalie’s frantic behavior. Merely observing and sensing her unfulfilled lust had been unpleasant for me. I didn’t want to live it myself, but it was coming whether I was ready or not, slowly taking control of my body.

  I swore I could smell Andre’s skin—no cinnamon, no cloves, just something manly human and hot. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his face and arms, and his chest rose and fell heavily. I had to touch him. Needed to touch him. Was going to explode if I didn’t.

  “Oh, God, Jess.” His voice was so soft and thick I could barely hear him. “This is getting bad. I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “I don’t know how much longer I can fight it.”

  “Me neither.”

  I wasn’t sure if I said the words or only thought I did. I wasn’t sure what happened next at all. Who moved? Who initiated? Who could tell? The fog hung so thickly over my brain, and my world dissolved into nothing but Andre. Andre, and the pain of a burning desire that I knew from experience couldn’t be satiated.

  But we’d try. Oh, we were trying.

  I was on top of him, straddling his waist. My lips were on his, his tongue exploring my mouth. Every time I breathed in his scent, every touch of his lips sent me further over the edge. His warm hands slipped under my shirt, and as I sat up to pull it off the rest of the way, he flipped me over.

  Pinned to the floor, I moaned as he ran his tongue down my chin, my neck, onto my breasts. Andre whispered my name, nudging my breast from my bra. Grasping fingers clawed at the lace. Greedy lips sucked on my nipple, too hard to feel good, yet not hard enough to satisfy me. Andre’s touch was neither gentle nor sexily rough. He was driven by this mad hunger. Consumed by this artificial fire that couldn’t be quenched.

  So was I.

  Desperate for more of him, I pushed his face deeper into my body, crying out as his teeth skimmed my sensitive skin. I strained to reach his arms and tug off his shirt, to rub his bare chest against my own. His hardness grazed my legs as he kissed me lower and lower. My hands balled into fists at my sides, unable to reach him as he ripped open my jeans button. My hips arched to meet his mouth.

  Stop it, Jess!

  I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could kill the voice of reason inside my head, but it wouldn’t shut up. Even as Andre finally tossed his shirt aside, even as my hands tore at the button on his jeans, something inside me hadn’t fully succumbed to the lethal combination of magic I’d been given.

  I hated that something. It was the voice screaming, You’re part satyr. Feed off this energy. Control it.

  But I didn’t want to control it, and even if I did want to, I couldn’t. I’d tried.

  I yanked Andre’s jeans and boxers down his legs, and my body wailed as he emerged glistening with sweat and ripe and ready before me. If I couldn’t feel him inside me soon, I’d go mad.

  No, you’ll live. Fight it.

  Instead my fingers trailed along his thighs and curled around his cock. Andre moaned. I struggled to sit, to bring my lips to him and feast on my prize.

  Fight it. Why can’t you do this? Why can’t you feed off this energy?

  I didn’t know. Whatever was in this magic had killed my gift as easily as it had killed my ability to feel anything but senseless lust, and I was going to die because of it.

  No, I was going to die if Andre didn’t fuck me soon. I couldn’t stand this need anymore. The ache between my legs had become a howling pain. Damn you, Lucrezia.

  Anger, spicy and harsh, ran through me like an electric shock. With it came power. With the power came some control and awareness.

  But my lips were already closing over the tip of Andre’s erection. His hands pulled me closer, fingers delving into my wetness and burrowing inside me. My body was alive and screaming, my hips thrusting in time with his hand.

  Kill Lucrezia. I scarcely could manage the single thought, but I grasped it with what little willpower I had. Kill Lucrezia. Kill her. Kill.

  My anger rose again. I couldn’t stop the lust, not entirely, but I could overpower it, push it down, bury it in my gut.

  Gasping, I removed my lips from Andre and pulled his hand away from me, though I reeled from the empty coldness that took over. Unfortunately, he used the opportunity to press me back on the floor. With him hovering above me, I had to close my eyes to roll out of the way. Looking at him made it too difficult. The rage gave me some strength, but I was holding on to my self-control by an imp’s wing. It was fragile, barely there. Easily broken.

  “Jess, come back.” Andre landed on the floor without me.

 
I moved quickly. He’d reach me soon. He’d push me back down, and I’d let him because my body ached for him. So I had to act while I could. My fingers found the leg of the closest chair, and I winced in anticipation. “I’m so sorry.”

  Then I yanked the chair closer and brought as much of it as I could down on Andre’s head.

  I didn’t hit him quite right. Part of me didn’t want to hurt him, and I couldn’t get a good angle. Andre grunted in pain and gawked at me like I’d lost it, which in fairness, I had. But so had he. Luckily, the F left him so out of it that he couldn’t react. I sat up, gained a better grip on the chair and hit him again.

  Focus. Anger. Lucrezia. Stop.

  I had seconds before Andre regained his wits. I’d stunned him, nothing more. Crawling over his body, far too conscious of the warmth of his skin, I grabbed his T-shirt and tied his wrists together behind his back and around a table leg. “I am so, so sorry.”

  I just hoped he’d thank me later.

  A trickle of blood ran down his temple, and his eyes fluttered open. “Jess?”

  I pulled my pants and shirt on, and clenched my jaw. Though the worst of my lust was buried, I could tell it was only temporary. My skin was super sensitive. My clothes irritated.

  Hate. Kill. Lucrezia.

  “Jess, come back.” Andre writhed on the floor, his moans morphing into screams as he fought the table. “Jess!”

  “Hold tight. I’m taking down Lucrezia.”

  Some understanding flashed over his face. A single bead of sweat ran down his forehead. “God, yes. Do that. Please.”

  “I will.” As soon as I formed a plan.

  Who was I kidding? I could hardly walk straight. Partly because of the lusty pain, partly because my body didn’t want to cooperate. Which was also because of the lust.

  I cracked the door an inch, doing my best to tune out Andre, who seemed to have already forgotten the plan and was begging me to come back. Naked and tied up, and looking good enough to lick every inch of—my body shivered with longing for him. My knuckles whitened as I gripped the doorframe. It killed me not to answer his pleas.