Devon Monk - Stone Cold

“You can be such a charmer when you want—you know that, Shamus?” she asked.

“Please.” I pressed my fingers against my chest. “I am always a charmer. I meant every word. You’re a stunner. If you ever get tired of Jones, you let me know.” I gave her a wink, which just made her blush harder.

She didn’t usually wear her emotions out in the open like this. Which made flustering the woman irresistible.

“You know you’d like it,” I singsonged.

“You think?” She tipped her chin up a bit and gave me a sly look. “This”—she pointed to herself—“you couldn’t handle if you tried. And there’s no smoking in the house, remember? Ashtrays are on the porch.”

“Right. I’ll be back, then. Do start the party without me.”

I took a step past her, but she reached out and pressed her fingers gently on my arm.

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

“Don’t leave, Shame. Please. I want to talk to you after the party.”

And even though she looked soft and radiated life, the old toughness was right behind those pale green eyes.

I licked my lips and gently pulled my arm away. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head. “Later. Be here, okay?”

“It’s been a while since you ordered me around. Even longer since I listened to you.”

“You miss it,” she said.

“As if.” But yeah, I did. We’d had good times. We’d almost died; hell, I had died, but still, things were never boring when Allie Beckstrom was around.

SHAME

I waited until my mum wasn’t looking and then dodged out through the kitchen and onto the porch. No one else was out here, which suited me fine.

I lit a cigarette and paced, trying to slough off the high concentration of life, trying to make the edges of reality go away so I could deal with the “normals” a few minutes more.

Eleanor drifted over to the porch rail and floated up to sit on it, facing out toward the yard, one hand lifted to feel the rain, which fell right through her.

I leaned against the wall, one boot pressed against it, staring past Eleanor and smoking. Ignored the world, ignored the heartbeats, ignored the loudness, the warmth, the life. Pushed it all away until there were no bright edges, there was no sound. There was nothing I could care for. Nothing I could kill.

“Drink,” Zayvion said.

And just like that, the world came crashing around me again.

Zay and Terric were both leaning on the porch rail facing toward me, beers in their hands. Eleanor had floated over to make swoony eyes at Zayvion, and what woman wouldn’t? He was a six-foot-plus, dark-skinned, muscled, smoldering-hot-gaze, easy-smiling dude. He was also one of the most loyal, responsible guys I knew and head over heels in love with Allie.

Apparently the ladies liked those sorts of things.

“. . . paying any attention to us?” Zay asked.

“Almost.” Terric took a swig of beer, watching me.

“Heard every word,” I said.

Zay leaned forward, offered me a beer. I took it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in there with the party people, papa Jones?”

“Allie’s got it covered,” he said. “I’m mostly here to kick out anyone who annoys her.”

“That explains why you’re out here with Terric, then,” I said.

Terric shook his head and took another drink of beer.

Zay gave me a brief smile. “It’s been, what, two months since I’ve seen you?”

“Three. I’m touched you’ve been keeping track, what with all the baby on your mind.”

“Shame,” he said. “You know you’re welcome in our home. No matter what kind of crap you’re mixed up in.”

“Crap?”

“I was talking to Paul the other day,” he said.

“So?”

Paul was Paul Stotts. Detective Paul Stotts. He used to chase down the illegal magic users in the city. Still did, come to think of it. But he was also the husband to Allie’s best friend, Nola. Which made Paul our friend too.

Except when we were doing illegal things.

“He wanted to know if I’d noticed the upticks in strange deaths lately. About a dozen people who were involved with the Authority back in the day have gone missing.”

Terric was giving me that graveyard stare.

“What am I supposed to know about this?”

“He said they’ve disappeared. Not even bones left behind. Not even ashes,” Zay said.

“Disappeared could mean Cuba,” I said. “It doesn’t have to mean dead.”

“Maybe. That’s what he was thinking too. Until the most current disappeared.”

“Oh?”

“They found a pile of ash in his backyard. With a single bone in it.”

Shit.

“And how does that involve me? For that matter, how does it connect to the other missing people?”

“The ashes were in the glyph symbol for Death. Every last person suspiciously missing was a member of the Authority who had . . . a checkered past. All dead within the last couple months. There aren’t many people in the world who can use Death magic strong enough to kill someone with it. Here in Portland, there’s only one person I can think of who can do it.”

“Come on, now, mate,” I said. “If you’re going to accuse a man, just come out and do it right.”

“Are you killing people, Shame?”

“That’s a question, not an accusation.”

Zay just waited. He knew me. He usually knew when I was lying, which had often put a crimp in our relationship. So I looked over at Terric instead.

“ Et tu , Terric?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m very interested in your answer,” he said. “You’ve been gone a lot lately too, Shame.”

“That’s because you moved into my house”—I made air quotes—“‘for just a few days’ and haven’t moved out. A man needs space. If you both think I’ve gone rogue, how come Stotts isn’t here Miranda-ing my rights?”

“I told him I’d talk to you,” Zay said.

I did not know Zay had that kind of pull with him. Interesting. “And?” I said.

“And make a decision on what happened next.”

See, when Zay threatened, it was a subtle sort of thing. Unless he was breaking your fingers. He wasn’t turning me in to Stotts yet if I could give him a good reason not to.

I swigged beer and let the cold and bitter wash through me. It would be easy to lie.

Except I wouldn’t get away with it. Not with these two who were practically brothers to me.

“I don’t know who Stotts is talking about,” I hedged.

“Let’s just settle on a yes/no,” Zay said amiably. “You killing people?”

I hated it when he got specific. “Maybe a little.”

Terric’s eyebrows went up and Zayvion shifted his shoulders a bit. “Who?”

“Come on, Z. You can trust me.”

“Who?”

“Might as well say,” Terric muttered. “You know he won’t let it go.”

I sighed. “There is some business that is none of yours, Zay. This is that business.”

Zay nodded, stared at his boot for a minute, his arms crossed over his chest. “You talk to me, or you talk to Stotts. That’s the way it is.”

“I don’t remember you being my boss, Zayvion. This isn’t the old days. You don’t have any right to tell me what to do.”

“Shame,” Terric warned.

I didn’t need a warning. I knew what Zayvion was—he was Allie’s Soul Complement, which meant when Zay and Allie used magic together they were just as dangerous as Terric and me. They could, if they wanted to, reach into the core of magic and do the apocalyptic breakage too.

If anyone was ever going to end my life, if anyone could , it would be Zayvion.

“Who?” Zay asked. “Why? Two easy questions.”

I held up one finger. “People,” I said. Then held up another. “Personal.”