Happy Endings Page 3

  “Why is that?”

  “They can’t live here alone. They need to feed off the spirit of their summoner.”

  “Wouldn’t that kill the summoner?”

  I shrug. “Hasn’t killed me yet.”

  “So, once you send Havoc back, someone else could, hypothetically, summon him and ask him to kill you, and he’d have to?” he asks.

  “Gladly,” Havoc says with a grin.

  “Shut up. Technically yes, but no one can summon Havoc besides me until I die,” I say.

  “Why is that?” Sam asks, seeming to be genuinely curious in me for some reason.

  “Because we made a contract. He will serve only me until I die and in return, he gets my soul,” I say.

  “Why would he want your soul?”

  “I am a very high-level mage. My soul is where all my magic comes from. He will become even more powerful once I’m dead,” I say.

  “Why did you agree to such a contract with him?” Ian asks Havoc.

  Havoc thinks about it for a moment as he examines his last piece of chocolate. “He’s powerful. He’s the most powerful human I’ve ever met, and it intrigued me. I also didn’t know he would live this long. In the era he was born in, people rarely lived past forty. It has been hundreds of years, and this decision still haunts me.”

  “You dislike it?” Sam asks.

  Havoc looks over at me and smirks. “A demon usually dislikes any contract he’s been forced into. But do I dislike Miles? In some ways, I do. He has so much power that he could control the world, yet he sits there and runs a coffee shop. He’s not even the boss of this district. So much power he wastes, and that disgusts me.”

  “Good,” I say. “I like to see you disgusted.”

  “I like seeing you tortured.”

  My gaze turns sharp, and he turns his attention back to his chocolate bar, noticing he has struck a nerve.

  The vehicle draws to a stop outside a hospital and I’m glad, or I may have sent Havoc back at this very moment. Ian parks in a visitor spot before getting out. We follow him into the hospital as he moves toward the elevators which will take us down to the morgue. The four of us step inside and ride the elevator down to the basement. As soon as the doors open, Ian heads over to a guy that is walking down the hallway. He begins to discuss my presence, but the other man just stares at Havoc, so I’m not sure if he even comprehends anything being said to him.

  Carrying himself with confidence, another man walks up, but he keeps to the far side, away from Havoc.

  He smiles at me, clearly knowing everyone else and wishing to not know Havoc. “I’m Lieutenant Johnson. You think you can help us with this case?” he asks as he holds his hand out. He looks to be in his forties with a buzz cut and a military appearance. His clothes couldn’t get much neater if he’d ironed them on himself.

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “What was your name again?”

  “Miles and this is Havoc,” I say.

  He looks nervous, and I can tell Havoc is eating it all up. He loves fear and anxiety and can feast on it for hours.

  “Nice to meet you,” he says as he shakes my hand.

  Havoc holds his out, and the man is now regretting every decision he’s ever made. He hesitantly holds it out, and Havoc takes it and pulls the man toward him. “Why the quiver?” he asks as he cocks his head.

  “Havoc,” I snap, and he drops the man’s hand. “Don’t mind him, you’ll get used to him. Everyone is always like this the first time they meet him.”

  The man remains standing stone-still for a moment before taking a breath. “Okay…” he whispers. “Um… right this way.”

  He leads us through the door, and Havoc follows closely behind me. The medical examiner has the body waiting on a table for us, so I walk over to it and peer down at it. He hands me gloves, but I wave them away since I can’t do as much with gloves on. Ether West’s head was nearly cut off at the neck but for a small strip of skin connecting it to the back. His skin is pale, showing signs of having been dead for only a short period of time. Definitely not nine days like the familiar had told me. Carefully, I examine the body but besides the cut across his neck, there are no marks or wounds.

  “Were there signs of a struggle?” I ask.

  “Not much. There were a few things knocked over in his house, but he clearly hadn’t shifted into his were form or fought them,” Johnson says.

  “It reeks of magic,” I say.

  Havoc looks over at me surprised. “The Velmah de Rizen didn’t use magic. They were against nonhumans.”

  “This one does,” I say. “It’s old magic.”

  “I’m intrigued,” he says as he stares down at the body.

  I move my hand over the body until I find the point of the spell in the middle of his chest. “I’ll break the spell, but something is going to happen,” I warn them.

  “Like what?” Sam asks nervously.

  “Not sure, but we’ll find out,” I say as I hold my hand over the body. “Es… ven… ellsar,” I whisper.

  I can see my magic wrapping around my fingers like string. It’s almost red in color but only noticeable to my eyes. It reaches down to the man, touching his chest as I feel resistance. A darker magic, almost black reaches out of his chest, bumping and clashing against my own, but I’m stronger. I feel the snap of the magic as it lets go and notice a red glow on the man’s chest where the emblem of the Velmah de Rizen is burned into his skin. More like it was there before but hidden. They didn’t want anyone without magic to figure it out.

  “It’s their emblem,” Havoc says.

  “Yet, it’s different,” I say as I point to a flare on the base of the R.

  “It looks the same,” Havoc says stubbornly.

  “The R is different.”

  “I think it looks the same,” Havoc repeats.

  “Havoc, it’s different. Look at the R.”

  “It looks like a fucking R,” he says. “It’s the same.”

  I set my hand over his eyes and push a vision into his mind of the last man we saw who had this brand burned into his chest. Visions aren’t a common thing for a mage to manipulate, but for some reason I’ve always been good at them. I can make anyone see something that I have previously seen. It makes me a bitch to win an argument against. Whenever Yoko tells me that I didn’t tell her to do something, I just force her in a headlock and shove the memory into her brain. For years, she’s worked on a solution to protect her mind from me but so far, she hasn’t accomplished it.

  I pull my hand back, and he looks at me with a stubborn expression on his face.

  “It’s different,” I say.

  His lip twitches like he wants to say something else. “Barely.”

  I shake my head. Only Havoc, even after being forced to see the original, would still refuse to agree with me. “The original was burned in with an iron brand. This is clearly magic, and the symbol is a little different.”

  “Something else is a little different,” Havoc says with a laugh as he motions to the doors that hide the bodies. The doors begin to rattle and shake, as if something is trying to escape through them.

  “A necromancer?” I ask in confusion. “The spell was set by a necromancer…” That doesn’t sound right. Necromancers aren’t generally into spells such as this one, but perhaps there was a mage and a necromancer.

  Havoc reaches over and turns the handle on the first door.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, since it clearly looks like he’s planning on letting whatever is inside, out.

  “It knocked. It clearly wants out,” he says innocently.

  “Yes, to kill us,” I say.

  He shrugs. “I still don’t see the issue.”

  I wave my hands in a motion around his entire body. “This is the issue.”

  He gives me a huge smirk that fills his annoyingly handsome face. Why I let myself still be drawn in by his looks, I’ll never know.

  “The only issue I’m guilty of causing is every woman, wh
ose eyes have ever touched me, to have a wet dream. Oh, and you as well.” He’s so confident all the time.

  I look at him with narrowed eyes. “I have never had a wet dream about you,” I lie.

  He grins at me. “Oh really? Lying is a sin.”

  “I think… we have more pressing matters at the moment than wet dreams!” Sam says.

  Havoc waves him off. “Oh no, this is a pressing matter. Lies are very pressing matters. So, Miles, how many wet dreams have you had about me?”

  “Not a damn one.” More than I can count.

  “Seriously guys, what the hell is going on?” Sam asks, voice rising a little.

  “We’re seeing a liar in the making,” Havoc says.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I say.

  His smirk seems to take over his face. “I don’t have to.”

  The door to the drawer Havoc unlatched slams open, and a hand extends out from within. It flails for a moment as the medical examiner screams something. That’s when the hand hooks onto the edge of the drawer and begins dragging itself out. Its body falls out, slamming to the ground in a heap of limbs and hair. Its head snaps back as it sees us and slowly rises from the ground. I hear a commotion farther down as another body drops off a table.

  “Oh my god. Oh god. Oh god,” the medical examiner whispers as he falls back.

  The body rushes toward us, and I set my hand against its head the moment it’s within reach, arms grabbing for me. With the necromancer so far from his work, it’s easy to break his spell. So I let my magic invade the corpse until I feel a string of magic that isn’t my own. Then I allow my magic to grab it and sever it, leaving the body to drop to the ground.

  “Why?” Havoc yells.

  “What?”

  “Why couldn’t I tear them apart?” he asks, and I notice he has his sword drawn.

  “Because they may be loved by family who probably wouldn’t be too happy seeing them diced up,” I explain. Honestly, why do I need to explain this?

  “You care too much.”

  “You care too little,” I say as I do the same to the second body. Then I walk back over to the humans who are staring with wide eyes.

  “S-So what are you thinking?” Lieutenant Johnson says as he straightens up. He’s easily composed and I like that about him.

  “I don’t know. I need to think about it,” I say.

  “You need to think about how many wet dreams you’ve had about me so you can give me a legit answer?” Havoc asks.

  I ignore his very presence. Something I should have done the day I decided to bind him to me. I was young and dumb and slightly infatuated with the dangerously handsome man.

  “Would you be interested in meeting with our department tomorrow morning?” Lieutenant Johnson asks as his eyes flicker over to a corpse.

  “Sure,” I say. “I’m done here.”

  I follow them out of the hospital to where I feel a strange fluctuation of magic. I can tell that no one else senses it because the two detectives are still chatting away. It feels similar to the magic that I just snapped inside the building, but a little stronger. I wonder if that means the necromancer has come out to play.

  “There you go, Havoc, have fun,” I say as the ground begins to shake.

  “Earthquake?” Ian asks, uncertain.

  “Nope,” I say as the landscaping falls away and hands begin to stretch out from beneath the earth. Skeletons rise up out of the ground with one thought in their mind—if they still had a brain that is. It means the necromancer is around here somewhere, and he is not happy about me breaking his hold on the corpses.

  “Light my sword on fire,” Havoc says as he steps forward, sword raised.

  I call the name of fire and suddenly the crotch of his pants is burning as I try to keep my grin in check.

  He howls something as he smacks at his pants until the flame is out. Slowly, he turns to me and presses the tip of his sword against my neck. I glance down at it before raising an eyebrow.

  “What the hell, Miles. What the hell?” Havoc asks.

  “You said your sword, and you’re always talking about your mighty sword that you love to penetrate all the ladies with. A simple mistake really,” I say as I hold up my hands like I’m innocent.

  His eyes narrow and then he gives me a nod. “You’re right. It is like a mighty sword,” he says approvingly as he brings his actual sword away from my throat. “That you have wet dreams about.”

  I think about setting his entire body on fire, when Havoc grins and runs forward as the skeletal humans, animals, and beasts rush for me. Havoc reaches them first, sword swinging as he brings it down through them. They have no defense against him and crumple to the ground as ash as I try to pretend that I’m not watching the way his body moves.

  Chapter Three

  Havoc is riding on my shoulder as a raven, watching the café as I examine our stock.

  “I want more chocolate,” he says, but in his animal form only I can hear his voice inside my mind.

  Lucky me.

  Our bond allows it, but no one else can hear him which is both convenient and annoying. Convenient for times when he’s too far away to see but annoying when I don’t want to be forced to hear his voice.

  “Don’t have any more,” I say.

  “Then go find me more,” he says as he pecks the side of my head.

  “Dammit!” I snap as I bat at him. He flies to my other shoulder as I pick up one of the charms I was working on.

  “Who is that?” he asks as he digs his talons into my shoulder.

  I look over at the door as a beautiful woman walks in. I can instantly tell that she is a succubus because she has the attention of all the men in the room. Of course, her charms won’t work on Havoc or me, but Havoc has a weakness for beautiful women.

  “That’s Belle,” I say.

  “Belle looks lonely. I bet she’s looking for a ‘beast’ under the sheets,” he says as he shifts. Because he was on my shoulder when he did so, he slams into me, throwing me into the table I’m working at.

  A few people jerk back startled, but the rest are used to his appearance even though they still look nervous. He strolls up to her with a grin on his handsome face, his cloak of feathers fluttering around him, white horns contrasting with his dark hair. “Good evening beautiful. Why don’t I take you somewhere other than this ugly little place?”

  Her eyes light up, and she’s instantly excited. “I would love to.”

  And they’re gone.

  A blessing really, even if it causes me slight irritation. I’m sure the irritation is just because it’s Havoc and not anything else. There is nothing about him that I could ever want, so I’m sure it’s just because it’s him.

  Havoc should be fine. He generally comes back without disturbing much of the peace as long as he has a woman to follow around. I help around the café for a bit when a woman walks up to me with a nervous smile. Of course I already know that the smile isn’t directed at me.

  “Is Havoc around?” she asks.

  She is one of his past one-night stands and clearly wants a second. Most do. None ever get it.

  “Nope. He’s out with another woman,” I say, feeling no obligation to feel sorry for her or make Havoc look like less of a dick.

  She looks hurt and it annoys me.

  “I told you last week that he never sleeps with the same girl twice and you still went with him,” I say.

  “But if I could just see him. It’s more than just lust,” she says as she dramatically grabs her chest.

  “That’s what they all say. He’s not here,” I say as I shoo her away. They all think that they’ll be the one to capture Havoc’s heart. But in the hundreds of years I have known him, he’s never slept with the same girl twice and has never generally liked anyone enough to enjoy their companionship. I suppose our relationship is the closest thing Havoc has to anything of substance.

  After I finally convince her to leave, I close up the café before heading upstairs to the s
econd floor that I use as an apartment. I could have a bigger house with the money I have stored away, but I like the hominess of this place. There are two bedrooms, a kitchen that connects to the living room, and a bathroom. I have lived here for about seven years now and have found that even though it definitely isn’t the most extravagant place I have stayed in, I probably like it the best. Well, besides the time that I stayed with the Queen when she thought I was a dog because I couldn’t get a stupid illusion off me.

  ***

  We were invited to the police station to go over some details, but so far, all we’ve done is sit and wait.

  Havoc is staring at the detectives, making them nervous and scared. He just can’t behave no matter where I take him.

  “Havoc,” I say.

  “Hmm?”

  “Knock it off.”

  “I’m bored. You’re over there playing on your phone, why can’t I play a game?” he asks as the detectives try to look anywhere but at Havoc.

  “Havoc,” I snap.

  “Hmm?”

  “Shoulder.”

  “I refuse.”

  “Then knock it off,” I say.

  He grins as he stares at me, challenging me, but I just stare back, so that when Lieutenant Johnson walks in, Havoc and I are having a staring contest like two ten-year-olds.

  There are two new detectives who have joined us apart from Lieutenant Johnson, Sam, and Ian. They had, at some point, been introduced, but I definitely don’t remember what they said their names are.

  “So, please go through all the deaths, locations, honestly, anything suspicious,” I say, hoping a briefing might jog a suppressed memory about this organization.

  “I don’t understand why these two are involved,” one of the new detectives says. “No one wants to work with nonhumans.”

  Havoc kicks the man’s chair so hard that it screeches across the floor and the man teeters backwards, arms flailing against a losing battle before he hits the ground on his back.

  “What’d I tell you!” the man yells from his new location on the floor.

  “Havoc. Shoulder. Now,” I hiss, and he shifts into a raven and grudgingly flies to my shoulder where he bites my ear and twists it hard. I grab him in my hands and hold him in a death grip. “We are here to help because I know more about this organization than any of you.”