Devon Monk - Hell Bent

“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.”

“It pulls pretty hard.” I picked up my coffee cup but didn’t drink. “I can stay ahead of the hunger. I can stay ahead of the push to use it . . . let it use me. So far I haven’t done anything . . . certifiably evil. Food helps. Small destructions are good. The rings help.” I lifted my hand to show him them.

“Are you in control right now?”

“Yes.” I was not lying. I wouldn’t lie about this. Zay knew it.

“Good. Finish eating. The Overseer is waiting.”

I shoved the rest of the bacon in my mouth and took another drink of coffee. It was almost cold now. I’d been draining the heat from it while it was in my hand.

I drank it down cold, then nodded. “I’m good.”

He took one last hard look at me. I must have passed muster, because he opened the door and got out of the car.

I left the plate and cup in the car, mostly because I knew it would bother Terric, and pushed my sunglasses closer to my eyes. Looked around.

Huh. We were in the parking lot of my mother’s restaurant and inn. There weren’t any cars here that I didn’t recognize, which meant we were having a private meeting. Zay stopped next to me, a mountain of heat and life.

Man burned like a torch. More so now because he was tied to Allie, to her life, and to the new life inside her.

It was beautiful, really. Rare to see. And I was determined not to let that fall apart because of me.

We walked across the gravel to the door. I paused before opening it.

“How do I look?” I asked him.

He knew what I was asking. Was I throwing death vibes? Was I leaking Death magic?

Zay put a hand on my shoulder. Heavy. Wide. Hot.

I didn’t pull on the life in him. Not a single drop of all that gorgeous, rich life. His life.

He waited a second, then nodded. “You’re good, Shame.”

“Good? Come on, now. You know I am the best, Z.” I gave him a grin.