Devon Monk - Hell Bent

“Well.” I stood, studied the bottle, which was nearly full. “I knew the place was in good hands. Terric, he’s all right at what he does, I suppose.”

Dash grinned and shook his head. “No one’s cared more or worked harder than he has.”

“Proving my point. And you are damn near the best secretary . . . administrative assistant?”

He handed me the cup of coffee. “Second. I’m Terric’s second.”

“So, that’s a step up, right?”

He nodded. “I’ve left you a few messages lately.”

“Oh?”

He glanced over at the door and frowned.

“Terric should be here soon,” I said. “Out with it, lad.”

He seemed to make up his mind. “Come on back to my office.”

“You have an office?”

He just pointed toward one end of the large room that had been sectioned off into two with wooden walls and windows. The office on the right took up the majority of the room and lorded over the outer windows. That would probably be Terric’s.

I, correctly, took the door to the left into the smaller office.

He stepped in behind me, and shut the door.

“You okay with this?” he asked.

“With what?” I gulped coffee and whiskey and savored the double burn. His heartbeat was steady, calm.

“Close quarters, all these plants, me living. That what.”

He sat behind the desk and watched me, waiting. He had hazel eyes that were moss green with bits of brass in them. And those eyes were giving me a very knowing look.

Jesus. He knew. How much I wanted to consume. That I barely held it in check. I hadn’t ever talked to him about it.

Well, maybe just that one time when I was really drunk.

“Want me to pinkie-swear I won’t kill you, mate? Worried that I’ll lose control of Death magic and squeeze the pulse out of your ticker?”

“No. You’ve got this. Your control is solid. Criminally so.”

“Bless you. Talk.”

“I try not to get into Terric’s personal life. But there’s something that I can’t stay quiet about anymore. I”—he looked down at the desktop, suddenly interested in the calendar there that he pushed slightly to one side— “care for him.” Eyes up again, steady on me. “As his second. We’ve worked together for a long time and he is—his health is important to me.”

Lie. Well, not lie. More like truth pushing to be heard behind all those careful, yet oddly clumsy words. He cared for Terric as his boss, sure. And he cared for him a hell of a lot more than that.

Huh.

“Right,” I said, letting the subtext go. “I know that. But if you’re going to give me the lecture about how I should be around more because I make him feel better, Soul Complements, and blah-de-blah, don’t bother.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You already know you should be. You’ll change your mind, or you won’t. It doesn’t matter what I say about that. I’m talking about Jeremy Wilson.”

“Who?”

“The man he’s dating.”

“Do I need to know about this?”

“I think Jeremy is hurting him.”

Silence. I drank coffee. Not because I had nothing to say. A hurricane of words and rage ignited in my head, pounding to get out. If I said one thing, I’d be yelling. Incoherent. And then I’d kill.

Dash waited. Didn’t make any sudden moves. Didn’t breathe faster, didn’t elevate his heart rate.

He was a smart man. A good man. He waited me out while I bitch-slapped my demons.

I took one last swallow of the coffee and set the empty cup down on the edge of his desk. The cup crumbled into a dusty pile of ceramic.

And . . . I had my cool back.

Dash’s eyebrows ticked up. “Maybe I should talk to you about that other thing.”

I gave him a smile, shook my head. “I never liked that cup.”

“Noted.”

“Talk to me about Jeremy.”

“He and Terric started dating about four months ago. Terric was . . . discreet about it. He tries to keep personal stuff away from work. But about six weeks ago, I came into the office early. Found Terric coming out of the bathroom without his shirt and shoes. He’d slept here most the night. He had burns down his arms—cigarette burns. His wrists were raw and his ribs were black and blue.”

Ticked it off like a laundry list. No emotion. But his pupils dilated. Dash was pissed about this.

“Maybe he and the boyfriend like it rough,” I said. “Terric can take care of himself.”

“I know he can. And he did. By that afternoon, the burns and wrist scars were gone. He wore a T-shirt just so I’d notice. He has Life magic in his blood. He can use it to heal himself.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I supposed he could, though.

“I’ve seen him with a lot of men, and never seen a mark on him,” Dash continued. “But every time he’s with Jeremy, he comes in bruised or limping.”

I shrugged. I just couldn’t picture Terric willingly being abused. There must be more to it than that.

Dash leaned back a bit. “Shame, he can heal himself. And he does. I think Jeremy makes sure that no matter how fast he heals himself, he still walks away from their time together injured. And too tired to make himself better.”

“Maybe he just—”

“Too tired to make himself better,” Dash repeated, “because he’s spent his energy, poured his life into Jeremy.”

I took a breath, let it out. “Dash, you’re a smart guy. But I think you’re stretching this a bit.”

“So I looked Jeremy up,” he went on quietly like I’d never said a word. “Records are easy to get ahold of. He used to be into Blood magic. Ran money for some of the drug lords. Big syndicate.”

Bet I could guess which one.

“No recent activity of that on his record now. Not since his diagnosis. Cancer, Shame. Brain. Stage three. He’s dying. He’s been dying for years. But in the last four months, he’s gone into complete remission.”

“Because of Terric,” I said unnecessarily.

Dash pressed his lips together, then nodded. “I think so, yes.”

“Okay. Fine. Listen, maybe it looks like a twisted sort of relationship to you”—I held up one finger at his expression—“and to me, but Terric is a grown man. He’s made his choice and lives his life the way he wants. If he didn’t like the guy, he’d walk away in a flat second. You’ve seen him go through boyfriends before.”

“That’s true. I have. Which is why I’m telling you, this guy is different. He’s hurting Terric, and Terric’s not doing anything about it. You know him, Shame. Better than I do. Does that sound like Terric?”

“No.”

That was all I had time to say, because the exterior door opened.

Dash looked over my shoulder through the window to see who was coming into the office. I didn’t have to look. I’d know that heart, that pulse, that life anywhere. Terric.

“You killed my ficus,” he called out across the room.

I stood. Strolled out into the main office. “They were ugly.”

“They were fragile. And hard to keep alive.”

“Took care of that. You’re welcome.”

He dragged his fingers back through his platinum white hair, grabbing at the back of his head before letting go. “It’s coming out of your paycheck.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t work here anymore. Neither,” I said, “do you.”

“What?” Dash came into the room. “You quit?”

“No,” Terric said. “I didn’t quit. The Overseer has named a new Head of the Authority. Perfectly normal. The position should change hands every once in a while. Keeps things fresh.” He gave Dash a small smile.

Dash swallowed several times, not doing a very good job of hiding that the news had shattered something inside him.

I watched Terric. He didn’t seem to notice Dash was devastated that they wouldn’t be working together anymore.