Page 30 of Chained
Fuck if he knew what that meant, though.
For the first time in his life, Terry felt the deep ache of having no close friends. It was as if someone had hollowed out his chest with a melon baller. He didn’t give a shit about fame and fortune, but right now he’d consider selling his soul for just one person who cared enough to give him good advice.
Then he noted the telephone on his kitchen counter, and he thought of somebody he could call. That person didn’t give a rat’s ass about Terry, but he’d give good counsel.
It took him a few minutes to find the battered business card tucked away in a drawer.G & T Investigations.
Someone picked up the call after three rings. “Yes?” Even that short word was touched by a hint of an accent.
“Um, this is Agent Brandt from the Bureau. Terry Brandt. We worked together—”
“I remember you.”
“I’m working on a case and… and I was really hoping for a little guidance from Mr. Grimes.”
There was a brief pause. “A moment. I’ll see if my master is available.”
When Terry had first met these two, he’d been a little disturbed by their relationship. Townsend had warned him that Tenrael was a demon, so the black wings and small horns hadn’t come as a shock. But then Terry had seen Tenrael kneeling beside Grimes and calling him master, and Terry’s stomach had roiled. Even a demon shouldn’t be kept as a slave. Soon, though, Terry had taken note of the way they interacted—Grimes treating Tenrael as an equal even when he knelt, both of them displaying easy affection—and had realized that their link was loving and consensual. Weird, yeah, but Terry had seen stranger.
“Hello, Brandt.” Grimes’s voice carried no accent but sounded crisp and dry, like a stack of new dollar bills.
“Hi. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Yes.”
Terry smiled. Grimes wasn’t the type to waste words. “Thanks. Look, I’ve been working on this case, and… well, I guess I shouldn’t spill the details. They’re not important at the moment anyway. The outcome is really important. Someone I care about is in danger.”
“Do you need our assistance?”
“No, thanks.” The offer warmed him, but he was afraid that involving more people would only make things worse. “Just advice. Townsend… he says I should trust him. He claims that if I follow orders, everything’ll be awesome, but he won’t tell me more. So should I do what he says or develop a plan of my own?”
Grimes was silent for a long time.
“I couldn’t tell you what his ultimate motives are. I think he’s playing a different game than the rest of us, and nobody but him knows the rules.”
“Yeah,” Terry said with a sigh, relieved he wasn’t the only one who thought that way. “But is he a good guy or a bad guy?”
“That’s a false dichotomy.”
“Maybe, but I don’t have much else to go on.”
“Yes, you do. You know Townsend has a gift for seeing truth—and for speaking the truth as well.”
Terry considered that and deemed it accurate. Townsend always seemed to know… everything, just as he’d known about Aunt Shirley. And he might be sparing with important details, but Terry had never heard him lie. “Thanks. That helps.” He let out a small, shaky laugh. “Can I ask you something else? Something personal?”
“What?”
“A long-term relationship between a human man and a… not-so-human man… that can work, right?”
Grimes surprised him with a chuckle. “I’m not the one to say. But I can tell you that a lack of full humanity needn’t necessarily stand in the way of averylong-term relationship.”
“Okay. Thanks. And hey, I owe you one. If you ever need a helping hand, let me know.”
“Good luck, Terry.” Grimes disconnected the call.
That use of his first name cheered him. Maybe because it had been a long time since anyone had called him Terry—except for Edge.
Most of Terry’s favorite CDs were still in Whitaker’s guest house, so he turned on the radio instead. George Michael was singing about needing faith. Alone in his apartment, Terry closed his eyes and danced.
