Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
I raised both eyebrows, not sure that the amused expression on my face helped at all. Leonard’s face scrunched, and he looked ten seconds away from crying when he lunged forward, grabbing me off my stool by the lapels of my jacket.
“You got me fired! You got me blackballed! Because of you, I got iced out of my fantasy football league!” Leonard was shouting, and even the drunks in the corner had turned to stare.
“Leonard,” I said, knowing that all he wanted was someone to share in his aggrieved anger. “You got screwed.”
“Yeah! By you .” Leonard dropped my jacket, then pointed to the door. “Outside! Now!”
He stalked off, shoving at the door, but it was on soft-close hinges and didn’t slam like he clearly wanted. He shouted in frustration but finally made it outside.
“You gave him a job?” I asked Betty.
“It was better than letting him drink himself into alcohol poisoning,” Betty said.
“Reyes! Outside!” Leonard opened the door enough to point two fingers at his eyes and then twist his wrist so they were pointing at me.
“All right.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m coming.”
I dusted off my jacket and found that Leonard had left a greasy thumbprint on my lapel. Annoyed, I tried brushing it off. Then I shook my head and followed Leonard outside.
The sun was in the hot, not-quite-sunset stage of the afternoon. It hovered, beating us down with a relentless heat.
Leonard was already sweating, although when he wiped at his eyes, I wasn’t sure if it was perspiration or tears. He lunged at me as soon as I stepped through the door, and I dodged out of the way with a quick sidestep.
The move put me perpendicular to the door, and I watched as Cassander and Betty both came out, the drunks stumbling behind them. Leonard righted himself and charged at me again, but this time, I put a hand on his shoulder and pushed lightly, sending him tripping over one of the concrete parking curbs.
“You want to tell me how I got you fired?” I asked. “Because last I heard, you were gainfully employed—technically self -employed since Milner just provided your product.”
“It’s a bit hard to sell anything when she’s cut off my supply and said anyone who works with me will get kicked out and killed.” Leonard came closer, giving up on the bull-and-matador technique in favor of bouncing on his toes and throwing punches.
I stepped aside before his first strike hit, but he surprised me with the second, a solid punch that left me shaking my head.
“Leonard…”
But he hit again, surprisingly hard for a man whose diet consisted of pot, junk food, and neon-colored candy.
“You did this!” he shouted. “If I hadn’t met you, Iris never would have kicked me to the curb.”
“Look, you weren’t happy anyway,” I said. “Think of this as good luck.”
“Good luck ?” Leonard tried for an uppercut, but I blocked his hand and tugged him close. I could smell the sweat and exhaustion on his skin.
“She didn’t put a hit out on you,” I said. “You could still go legit. Or you could get out of town.”
“Oh, right, because everyone is dying to give a job to an ex-dealer with a criminal record.” He slithered out of my arms. “You are poison , Damian Reyes. You are toxic . You bring nothing but bad things to the people around you.”
“That’s not true,” I said, even as the words hit me harder than his earlier punch.
“You think you can protect your family from Iris? She’s going to do to them what she did to me.” Leonard was panting, his face dripping with tears.
“I don’t…” My skin heated; my face felt like it was blistering in the sun.
The trouble was, he wasn’t wrong. He was completely right that I had seen weakness in him, exploited it, but he’d been the one to pay when the bill came due.
My whole body felt hot, burning with it, but it wasn’t anxiety or embarrassment. I was too far gone for that.
Instead, it was anger. Anger at Iris for forcing me into this situation. Anger at myself for being so careless with an informant that he’d been caught. Anger that my mother had taught me better, and I couldn’t help but suspect if my mother had been the one in charge of him, he wouldn’t have been caught so quickly.
Under my skin, I felt a shift, a burning shiver like something was trying to get loose, and the only thing holding me back was weak human flesh. I rolled my shoulders and head, the joints popping loudly like a log cracking in a fire.
Leonard let out a shout, a half scream of rage, and I blinked open my eyes in time to see him land a solid punch on my face. I didn’t even feel it, the impact as light as being booped on the nose by a cat.
It should have hurt, I registered. It should have felt like something, but the vibration under my skin twitched and shuddered and came to fruition.
Leonard screamed, holding his hand tightly against his chest. His eyes were wide as he stared at me, and his mouth worked a couple of times before he said, “What the hell, man?”
I blinked at him, the world in sharp, clear colors, and I had the absurd desire to protect him. I’d put him in this position, and he was mine, one of my people, one of the things I valued most. Part of my hoard.
Shaking my head, I blinked sharply, trying to focus on Leonard. The protective urge faded. I wasn’t responsible for him. He was barely even an informant. He definitely wasn’t a friend.
“You okay?” I asked.
He held out his hand, the skin bright red like he’d been sunburned. “Man. What?”
“You know,” Cassander said smoothly, sliding between us. “This is the best opportunity of your life.”
“An opportunity?” Leonard frowned, shaking his hand out. He flexed his fingers and swallowed another whimper. “This isn’t an opportunity; it’s a prison sentence.”
“ Is it?” Cassander wrapped an arm around Leonard’s shoulders. “You’re looking too small. A prison sentence is a prison sentence. I see no wardens, no chain-link fence. In fact, all I see is the future.”
Cassander gestured out, his hand tracing across the parking lot and the highway beyond it.
“The future?” Leonard had stopped crying, his injured hand cradled in his free one.
“The future ,” Cassander agreed. “New business opportunities, new life opportunities. A week ago, Betty didn’t even like you, and now you work for her. In a much better position than you worked for Iris Milner. No more scrabbling for table scraps. You get a paycheck and a retirement plan.”
“I don’t offer retirement plans,” Betty murmured.
“A paycheck and upward mobility! Someday, you might even end up bartender or cook! And tips! Did any of your previous clients tip, or did they simply complain about the quality of the product?” Cassander jostled Leonard when he muttered something. “A quality that you had no control over!”
“I didn’t have any control over it.” Leonard straightened. “And I could do with some tips. Some reward for good service.”
“There you go,” Cassander said. “Think of this as the first step in a long future! Soon, you’ll have nothing but opportunities and chances to do what you want, not something you decided to try at seventeen and haven’t known how to give up.”
Leonard’s eyes filled up, but unlike the angry tears he’d been shedding as he tried to fight me, now he seemed genuinely happy, as though the opportunity to deliver appetizers was actually a step up, something he was looking forward to.
“I didn’t think of it like that. I could maybe even franchise someday, right?” He looked back at Betty, who nodded as though, of course, our one-horse town needed two identical bars.
“Let’s go get you a drink! To celebrate your new future!” Cassander led Leonard back inside, and the drunks followed, cheering on as Cassander spun out increasingly fantastical versions of Leonard’s future. I heard him even mention a house, which, given California real estate prices, would have been fantastical even if Leonard wasn’t now earning part-time minimum wage.
“You okay?” Betty asked. “You need some ice for that last hit? It looked like he got you good.”
“I didn’t even feel it.” I rubbed my chin, but the shifting under my skin had faded. I didn’t feel the same burn of it.
“Really, you don’t have to be all He-Man for me about this.” Betty came closer, raising her hand to brush across what should have been a nasty bruise. “‘I’m a man, I don’t feel any pain. Because I’m a man.’”
“I promise, Bets, I’m good.” I walked over to the door. “Come on, let’s go in before Cassander talks Leonard into starting an influencer account or opening one of those wine and paint places.”
Back inside, Leonard was attempting to pour beer from a tap with Cassander’s encouragement. The head took up most of the glass, but Cassander kept talking about learning and how it would come naturally with time until he had to accept a beer glass that was mostly foam with the smallest amount of actual ale at the bottom.
Betty watched critically, and I raised both eyebrows as Cassander raised the glass in a toast before downing it. Betty laughed at his sputtering, I offered a napkin to help with the foam mustache, and Leonard looked genuinely proud.
Betty kicked him out from behind the bar, saying that he needed to go in the back and help with prep before the dinner crowd arrived. Then she was halfway down the bar, counting receipts and keeping an eye on the drunks, who had returned to their table.
I settled onto the stool next to Cassander. “So, are you adding job consultant to your resume?”
“Oh, yes. Career advice. It’s one of my strengths.” Cassander tried for a smile, but I could see through it. At my look, he shook his head. “You know that was a simple manipulation. He would have continued to fight you until he got hurt. Or you did.”
“You say that, but I watched you with him. That was kindness. He was upset; you were trying to make him feel better.” I looked away briefly, taking a drink of beer before I asked my next question. It was smoother than the IPA from last time, and I focused on rubbing my finger against the glass. “Have you thought about what you want to do next?”
“Take my mother’s throne,” Cassander said immediately.
“Sure.” I nodded. “How?”
“With the coin.” I could feel Cassander’s eyes on my face, burning into my skin.
“Right. So you have allies in the court?” I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to read any cues from his body about the kind of response he needed. I didn’t want to read everything I already knew to be true on his face.
“I have… There are people who dislike my brother. People who will not benefit under his reign.” Cassander’s voice was strained, and I heard him swallow some of his own beer. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of the amber liquid, his throat working, before he put the glass down with a click.
“And they’ll help you regain the throne?” I asked pointedly.
“And they’ll help my brother off of it.” Cassander’s voice was hard. “I will have to earn my own place on it.”
“Which is what you want.” The sentence felt like it needed a question mark after it, but instead, I kept my voice flat.
“Say what you mean to say,” Cassander snapped.
“I mean to say that if you really wanted the throne, you wouldn’t be depending on this coin to take it.” I drew the gold piece out of my pocket, placing it on the bar between us. “Or if you really did want it, you would have killed me in order to take it.”
“That’s not true. The coin wouldn’t come to me like that.” But Cassander’s voice had gone soft, uncertain.
“I think it is. I think that you don’t actually want—” I swallowed, forcing the words out. “—the throne. I think you’re using the coin and me and being stuck here as an excuse.”
“No.” This time, I did look over, and Cassander was shaking his head, even as his eyes fixed on the coin. He looked up, eyes flashing silver, teeth long and sharp, his ears lengthening. “You shouldn’t tempt a fae, mortal. You have just challenged me. I should tear your throat out for the affront.”
“Or you could just admit that you watched your mother do things that made you sick. And then you watched your brother try and kill you and probably kill every other person who was loyal to your mother for a throne that, in your deepest heart, you never wanted.”
I wasn’t wrong. It had been in every subtle movement Cassander had made, in every word he had chosen, in every excuse he had given. Cassander might be his mother’s son, his mother’s true heir, but he wanted none of the inheritance she offered.
“So, what should I do instead?” Cassander asked dully. He picked up the coin, twisting it between his fingers. Then he rolled it over his knuckles, the gold flashing bright. “Franchise Honeyrock? Get my own social media account with sponsorships?”
“I don’t know.” I watched his face as the gold flipped, flashes of it reflecting back on his cheekbones. “But I think you need to figure it out. If your brother is coming after you using Green Scales or someone else from his court, you need to decide what you actually want. I might not know about fae deals and everything that goes with them, but I do know that from a negotiating standpoint, you need to understand what you want.”
“And what about you, Damian Reyes?” Cassander turned on me, slapping the coin down in front of me. When he pulled his hand back, it was dragon side up. Good luck. “What do you want?”
I stared at the dragon, tracing my finger over its spread wings, the long arc of its tail. A few hours ago, I wanted my job back. A few days ago, I wanted my old life back.
But maybe what Dr. Aston had been trying to say this whole time wasn’t that I got too caught up in the mission, risking my life for it because I didn’t value my own worth. Maybe, instead, I had been collecting successful missions and accomplishments like treasure, hoarding them for myself, assured that that would be my legacy, that it would be what I always wanted.
Down the bar, Betty laughed at something one of the drunks was joking about. Leonard came in from the back with a plate of food for her, and I saw her cook peeking in the kitchen door window to see how she received it. I looked back at Cassander, his sharp features fading back into human ones.
Over the past few days, I had been collecting people, gathering them to me, treasuring my interactions with them, even if I didn’t understand why. Maybe that was what I wanted. That was the future I imagined making me happy: hoarding relationships with people who should have turned their backs on me but instead loved me as much as I loved them.
If I went back to my old life, I would probably never see my niece and nephew again. I would never learn if Riley grew up to be just as amazing as she wanted to be. I would never learn if Junior grew into his own voice and grew out of his sister’s shadow.
“What do I want?” I covered the coin with my hand, feeling it warm under my palm. “That’s easy. I want you, Cassander.”