Breaking Ties (26 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

James

December 21, 6:40 am

So. That happened.

It's the thought that keeps running again and again through my mind on a loop, renewed every time I look down and see Spencer's arm draped over me. It was easy enough to ask Dave to head downstairs, tell him that I wanted to rest that day and didn't want to be disturbed. Questions would be answered later, all that, and no, dragonkind hadn't been obliterated.

Shortly after he went downstairs, Spencer came down from the roof and, well, he's definitely good. I won't compare lovers, but Coyotes apparently know exactly what they're doing.

Now he's asleep, the lucky bastard, while I have the distinct pleasure of once again reviewing how I fouled things up. I wish any of it meant something, like time off my community service, or a major decree, or one less Ra'keth to bother me. But instead I'm right back where I started. Only now, instead of meeting Ozzie's father, I'm in bed with a trickster.

I didn't lie to him, though. I wouldn't say I've don't have a thing for him; rather, I've never really wanted to see him in that way. He always seemed to fit better as a friend because I need people who are reliable, and as weird as it sounds, Spencer is the one I can count on consistently. But…love?

With Cale, I simply knew. Ozzie? Took a little while, but I knew there was something there once I realized there was something, well, there. With Spencer, well, it's
Spencer
.

Spencer Crain is not the type of guy you introduce to your parents.

Granted, that didn't stop me from throwing myself at him last night, but I don't have the best track record for handling drastic change. After a near-death experience, I screwed a Red Dragon in Tolon Park. After Cale died I was so distraught I went to a dive bar and fucked some guy in his car within minutes of meeting him, just because I wanted to feel anything other than what I was feeling. And last night, after Ozzie broke up with me, I slept with Spencer, who has been in to me since the day we met.

I wasn't lying. He really is the only person who knew me both before and after I became a sorcerer, and I have to admit that affords a level of honesty that I can't have with anyone else. But at the same time, he's a Coyote, and the second time we met, he told me to remember his name because he'd be the one to trick me. I want to believe that's all changed, like in one of those romantic comedies he's always going on about, but at the same time I live in the real world.

God damn it, this could be a huge mistake. This is why sorcerers in Dungeons & Dragons live in towers and shuffle around in oversized bathrobes: relationships are not for the magically inclined. Besides the whole reality-altering thing, which still scares me, by the by, there's a good chance I won't make it through the next few years alive.

Unfortunately, the concept of not having to be the Sorcerer King anymore because I'd be dead isn't as comforting as I'd thought it would be. I've seen Tartarus, after all, and considering I've killed two Ra'keth, I'm pretty sure that's where I'd end up. So I'd like to delay that as long as possible.

It's a little funny that my mind goes here after a couple hours of pretty good sex with the Coyote who's spooning me; he's the only one I could imagine talking about this with.

Spencer

“Spence, you up?”

I tug him a little closer out of reflex, mostly to confirm that he's there, that it really happened. A wriggle of my legs reveals that I'm naked, as is he, and judging from how spent I feel, it's safe to say that my grand learning tour of his erogenous zones was not, in fact, a dream.

So I answer him by shimmying a bit farther up the futon to kiss his neck, nuzzle, cuddle, all that sappy stuff I usually think is pretty lame.

“Spence?”

I disengage enough to stretch, my body almost gleefully informing me that if James is up for it, I could definitely go again, and probably again after that.

“Yeah?” God, I feel so stupid, what do I call him? Just James? Maybe Miles? Come up with some ridiculous cutesy nickname that'll make everyone eye-roll but us?

“What would you do if I died?”

Spencer, you remember left field, don't you?

Oh hey, sorry to hear about your breakup, left field, but I'm kind of in a thing right now.

There's only one thing I can think of, though, as I sit up next to him and shrug.

“I wouldn't let you die.”

He grumbles, sits up next to me. “Spence, you have to be realistic. Someday something's going to kill me. I'm the Ra'keth. It's a question of
when
, not if.”

“So I'd stop them. I'm a Coyote, they'd never see me coming.” I put my arm around him, rest my head against his.

“Well, what if you're not there? And Hades shows up to personally collect me? I'm dead, gone, judged, all that. So what do you do?”

I shrug again. “Go into Hades to rescue you, I guess.”

He pulls himself free, looks at me crossly. “Jesus, would you take this seriously?”

“I am taking this seriously. You get in trouble, I back you up. You get in a jam, I rescue you. That's what the sidekick does for the hero, especially when, well, you know…” Oh God, did I just blush?

“Spencer, this is not going to be a forever kind of relationship, okay? I just want to be sure that when someone finally kills me, you won't lose it.”

I hold his face in my hands, make direct eye contact. “And you're not listening to me. I would not let you die. Take it or leave it.”

I can tell that he fights off rolling his eyes, but his tonality conveys it all the same as he pushes my hands away, resumes his previous position. “Fine.”

“So what would you do if I died?”

“Huh?”

“C'mon, you made me answer, I don't get to ask the same question? What would you do if I died?”

“I'd incinerate your corpse until it was naught but ash and then spread those ashes to the four winds.”

I blink. “Uh…that was a quick answer. Jesus, have you been
thinking
about this?”

“It's because if you're burned in the magical equivalent of a nuclear furnace, there's no chance you'd come back as a zombie. And if by some chance you do come back as one, I'll hit your head with an ice spell and shatter it without alerting the rest of the horde.” He shrugs simply. “I don't know, that seems like what you'd want.”

I just stare, agape, until he finally notices and asks, “What?”

“And that is why I love you, James.”

“Because I'd—” James doesn't get to finish his sentence. A tongue in your mouth will do that, as will hands moving to certain places and working a certain appendage.

For that answer, he's really getting my A-game.

Ozzie

I should've expected something like this, to be truthful.

Everything had been going so well, at a good pace, I'd found someone I could make a connection with, could love. Maybe I thought that was enough to overlook him being a guy, being human and being one of the Keth. The first two I've had some experience being okay with, the last one…

I can still see his eyes, two pools of black oil that light would never find the bottom of. It triggered something…primal in me, an innate compulsion to just go along with whatever he wanted, to serve him properly because the Ra'keth created the Fae. We were created to be their smiths, to make more interesting weapons for them to kill each other with. That part, luckily for me, was diminished by all the interbreeding with humans over the centuries. The other part is what made me leave.

I was afraid of him.

I love the guy, but it finally hit me that after one bad day he could just wave his hand out of annoyance and that would be the end of me. I know he wouldn't actually do it, especially after what the Coyote told me about his last beau, but a man still needs time to process all of that. There's a difference between playing Dungeons & Dragons with your boyfriend and him cracking a joke about how his character could wreak more havoc than he could, and then actually witnessing what he's capable of. Kinda puts things in perspective.

That's why I needed time to figure this out, and at least James was understanding about that. I think he gets how big a deal this all was for me too.

Hell, if I can ride on his back while he's a crazed dragon and still not be scared off, then maybe this is the real thing, minus a bit of naïveté on my part.

To think I was actually considering proposing at six months.

Nah, we need some more time to work through things, maybe make his moving in more formal, give him more than just a drawer at my place, or maybe we could find our own apartment. I don't know, but I like thinking about the possibilities, and that's how I know we've got a shot.

Parking isn't much of an issue. I found a spot a couple blocks away, and the diner's already picking up, even fifteen minutes after opening.

“Mornin', Ozzie.” Sharon smiles at me when I come in and climb onto one of the stools.

I'm aware that I'm putting things off, but James tends to sleep in, and I want to give him a few more minutes. I nod to Sharon with a smile of my own, and she makes the time to stop by.

“Usual?”

“Looks like. Guessin' he hasn't come down yet?” Already a coffee cup's in front of me, filled up.

She shakes her head and puts an order on the wheel. Bacon, scrambled eggs, home fries. I'm a simple guy when it comes to food.

“How're classes going?”

“Easier than expected.” She gives a few refills, checking in with customers while Monica works the booths. “You? How's work?”

“A few new projects this month.” I sip the coffee. It's not fantastic, but it gets the job done. “You uh…” I chew my lower lip. “You hear anything from John?” Her husband, still overseas.

She cashes out a customer, keeping her attention on him. “I've been through this before. Doesn't mean anything.” She then looks at me. “It'll be a few minutes, we're pretty busy this morning.”

I nod. “Noticed. I'll go check on Sleeping Beauty. Save my chair?”

“Don't I always?”

“When I tip well, yeah.”

“You gonna tip well?”

“Fifty percent, as usual.”

She smirks. “Then it'll be waiting for you when you get back.”

We'll have to find a place in Beckettsville, I'm guessing, to be close to the diner, Dave, everyone. Just feels homier around here.

The stairs going up make me thankful for my human heritage every time I climb them. My grandfather's almost pureblood, and the steepness of these would kick his ass.

“James?” I call. “You up yet?” I crest the stairs. “It's past eight.” I see him on the futon. “I figured you and I needed to—”

“Ozzie?” James's face is one of shock when it emerges from beneath the covers.

He's not alone.

He was… He's… There's another…

I don't know what to do.

“Ozzie, what are you doing here?” There's no anger, just surprise.

“I… You were… I thought after we'd taken some time to think about last night that…” I'm breathing rapidly. My chest feels empty. “Tell me it's not… Please say it's not Spen…” I can't finish the sentence.

Stone, what do I do? My face feels hot, wet. I shake my head quickly. “No.”

“Ozzie, I thought we were…”

“You
son of a bitch
!” I yelled that.

I'm vaguely aware I'm heading downstairs. I make it out the side door to the alley before my throat seizes and something warm pours out my mouth onto the pavement and scattered trash.

I start walking away from the diner.

“Ozzie!” Of
course
it's him.

This time the Coyote gets it in the face.

He's knocked to the sidewalk, his hand rubbing his jaw. “Fuck, I'm sorry. He said you two broke up.”

“You couldn't wait, could you?” I stand over him. Stone, I want to hit him again. “Not even twelve damned hours? And
him
, he couldn't…”

“Fine, you're right, I swooped in, I fucked up, I was wrong. I'm sorry, but I can't exactly go back. I don't know why you're so pissed, you were the one who broke up with…”

His mouth opens a few seconds.

“You never actually
said
to him that you were breaking up with him. Am I right?”

“I needed time!” My fingers are still clenched into fists, but I won't hit him again. “I just needed time to work through it.”

“Listen, I'll back off if you two—”

“You think I'd take him back
now
?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Did you plan this?”

“No.”

“Did you?”

“No. It just happened, and I'll step aside if it means—”

I shake my head. “Don't even bother. Just…just don't bother.”

“Hey, he came on to me, okay?” He instantly winces, but that's about enough.

I throw my hands up. “Fuck both of you, you deserve each other.”

And I walk to my car. I don't look back.

Spencer

“James, think back to last night. Think hard. Did Ozzie at any point in your conversation say that it was over, or that you two were breaking up, or anything with a definite weight of finality to it?”

He's sitting on the futon, just in his underwear.

“I…I thought that's what it meant.”

“Oh Jesus.” I sit down on the floor. “At the end of the day, I really am a Coyote.”

“I am so sick of people being boiled down to terms instead of who they are. I tried with Ozzie, we were Ozzie and James and it was… But it had to turn into a Dwarf and the Ra'keth. So what does being a Coyote have to do with anything?”

“Because the best way for a 'Yote to trick a sorcerer is to fuck with their relationship. I was doing everything I could to
not
do that, and we still ended up in the same place.” I half-glare at him. “And like I told Ozzie, I did not plan this.”