Page 62 of A Subtle Scar
He nodded. “An immortal you mean?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, whatever. Doughnut or no doughnut?”
He pointed at me again. “I don’t eat sugar anymore, but thanks. Can I get a photo though? No one is going to believe me otherwise.”
I smiled a wide smile at him. “Only if you post it everywhere and tag me.”
Chandler wouldloveseeing me in a photo with another human, displaying I was good and caring when it came to humans. Made sure they were safe from evil humans who would murder them. And maybe, if I asked nicely later tonight, he’d let me fuck him. Or maybe he’d just give me that blowjob finally because that would do. After all, unlike Ronny liked to complain, I wasn’t greedy. I enjoyed the nice things in life, and I had little doubt at all that our boyfriend’s mouth was very nice.
I was salivating, thinking of that mouth, but snapped back to it when the human held up his phone to capture us both and said, “Cheese.”
“Here, let me give you my handle,” I said and sent the info to his phone. “Remember, share a lot. Tag me.”
He nodded. “Do I just say you’re a god on the subway? Wait, are you actually a subway god? Is that a thing?”
“Yeah, and he’s called Ronny,” I said. “I’m Hermes,” I said and straightened. “The god of the quicksilver tongue,” I added in a somewhat huskier voice that worked to get people on their back more reliably than any human sniper rifle, especially after a drink or two.
“Mitchell,” the lawyer human said. He had that look that told me the line had worked on him. “But you can call me Mitch. And you can call me. Anytime.”
His number popped up on my phone screen.
I shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I’m now monogamous. For my boyfriend.”
Mitchell looked at me with concentration. “Well, I have a big bed. I could fit three people on there. Tell your boyfriend.”
Under normal circumstances, when I’d been offered a threesome or any group-size thing in the past, I had never declined, except for that one time where Ronny and I had been on a boat. Some of the sailors had asked us whether we were interested. That had been before boat voyages had been comfortable and clean, and I’d declined, as had Ronny. Despite his protests, I’d teleported us across the Atlantic after the incident. Smelly sailors ogling his ass with their intentions clear simply hadn’t felt right.
But the idea of allowing another human near Chandler was wrong. I wasn’t sure why it was so wrong, but it was. He was ours, Ronny’s and mine, and competing with Ronny’s thirst for attention was bad enough. I was not going to let Chandler see another human dick, if it was the last thing I did.
“No, thank you,” I said. I did my best to remain civil and reached for another one of the chocolate doughnuts to soothe my mind.
A train came in then, and Mitchell gestured toward it. “That’s me.”
“Cool. Remember to post the pic,” I told him, and he gave me a thumbs-up as he got on.
As the doors closed behind him, I started walking along the tracks in the stale yet bright artificial light. The subway here had gray floor tiles, and the walls were a disgusting shade somewhere between beige and yellow. Ronny would love it.
I finished the last bit of my doughnut as I tried to find anything that connected this to the rest of the spell. Even knowing what I was looking for, even knowing that it had to be here, actually finding the near insubstantial bit of connective magic took me three walks up and down the platform. A few people stared. A few more stared at my ass, I could tell.
Either way, in the end, this connected, and I teleported out of the station just as another train came in. I went straight to the field.
The sun was slowly climbing toward its midmorning configuration in the sky, and the wheat here looked past ready for harvest. I ran my hand along the ears of corn and felt the magic in them, the magic that had sparked them into growth before their time.
I was very much not as talented at analyzing human magic as Chandler was or even Ronny when it came to it, but the difference in quality in these two types of magic was clear to me: one straightforward, blocky, strong, the other with no purpose I could discern and ephemeral.
The yellow police tape was still out, and a human police person approached me from my right, followed by another one, taller, and walking faster.
“Excuse me,” the police officer said. Her partner caught up a little but clearly trusted her to take the lead and handle this. “You can’t be here. This is a crime scene.”
“I am allowed,” I said and pushed my chest out a little. “My boyfriend is helping with the investigation, and he allowed me.”
The two of them stopped. The woman cop narrowed her eyes. “Wait. You’re a little weird. You remind me of the necromancer’s boyfriend.” Her partner gave ashe doesn’t mean anything by thatshrug, but I brightened.
“You’re talking about Nelly? This tall, very pretty, golden eyes? He’s Lucy’s.”
She smiled, nodded. “That’s right. Lionel Hawkes. Do you know him?”
I cleared my throat. This was important. Lucy had repeatedly said he had befriended Chandler because his necromancer was friends with Chandler. That meant Ronny and I would have to do the same, and if these police people were friends of Lionel’s already, then this little excursion was already more fruitful than I could have hoped.
