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I paced silently across the dusty concrete floor of the old warehouse, irritation spiking through me. Gods, it seemed like if I was going to have to put up with this shit, the moron could at least choose a more original setting for his law breaking. Creepy abandoned warehouse was so last century.
I crept toward the sound of breathing, toward the ominously familiar little spike of human energy that was a combination of nerves and smugness to my supernatural senses. The little fucker was alone. He probably figured the less people involved, the less likely it was he’d get caught. I hugged the cold steel wall, staying in the deep shadows a few moments longer with my phone recording the human while he paid off the people who drove away with barrels of toxic waste. Waste that was being dumped in the national forest near Lake Superior. The sneaky little fucker.
Trevor. I had bent over backward to try to help him, given him resources and advice for how to build his new business and separate himself from his shady family. I thought he wanted to change. Thought he wanted to break away from the pressures of a family that had built its wealth on the backs of the poor. Thought he was telling the truth when he said he loved me. But instead, the asshole had decided to use my family name to shield him from suspicion as he secretly destroyed the lives of countless creatures—supe and normal—on the side. No doubt he would dramatically reveal something to implicate my well-connected family and boost his own fame. How tragic that the upstanding heroes and philanthropists of the Lionheart clan turned out to be so evil, just like his family had always claimed, blah, blah, blah.
I stopped recording as the delivery truck full of waste drove away. The local police would intercept the delivery before it reached its destination, assisted by my own people. My goal was just to get the last bit of evidence to prove that the guy in the knock-off suit was the one behind it all.
I tucked my phone away where it would be safe. Then I stepped out of the shadows and directly in front of my soon to be very ex-boyfriend. “Hey there, shit for brains,” I greeted jovially. My chest ached, and the monster inside me roiled with anger, but now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for myself.
He froze, eyes widening for a second before his usual charming smile slid into place on his blandly perfect playboy face. “Lani! What are you doing here?”
I narrowed my eyes. My name was Iolani. Io, to my close friends and family. Never “Lani.” That bullshit was all his own creation. And now I felt really stupid for letting him get away with it. “Oh,” I said with an airy wave of my hand. “You know, just out for a midnight stroll. Through an abandoned warehouse. The usual.”
I thought he wanted to change. Gods, I was so gullible sometimes.
He held up his hands, giving me a soft, pleading look that even now some pathetic part of me wanted to believe. “Babe. Whatever you think is going on, I promise you’re wrong. I know how hard you’ve been working on that lakeshore case. I thought I could help.” He shrugged, all wide-eyed sadness. “But I was too late, they got away before I could get pictures.” He gestured toward where the delivery truck had disappeared.
I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him the look. “You’re helping me with my case? Just decided to come poke around in my job? You know, if I was dating someone with even a hint of a backbone, or two brain cells to rub together, I might believe you.”
He licked his lips and swallowed, sidling closer and giving me a sly, cajoling look that usually ended up with us both naked. “Lani,” he said, reaching for me, taking my hand. “I can explain everything. With your name and my contacts, we could run things, you know—we could have people willing to give us anything to keep their secrets.”
I snorted. Run things. As if I had any interest in starting some second-rate mafia operation, bribing rich corporations, disposing of their little “problems”—like, say a bunch of toxic waste—and knowing all their dirty little secrets. It was the kind of underhanded power some people craved. A sort of revenge nastiness. As if the world was to blame for how shitty they’d turned out. But the joke was on him. I knew there was more to it than that.
I gripped his hand in mine, recalled all the times I’d fallen for his shit. All the times that warm hand had teased and caressed my body. I’d thought he was “the one.” Honestly. I had about a bazillion degrees and certifications, training and experience people would die for. But I was so fucking stupid sometimes. I slid my fingers up to wrap around his wrist, smiling. Then I whipped his arm upward, dislocating it and sending him crashing to his knees in pain.
“Dickwad,” I muttered.
When he stopped yelling and reached under his jacket with his free hand to draw a gun, I rolled my eyes. Clearly, dear little Trevor had forgotten who he was dealing with. Shooting me was more likely to piss me off than kill me. But the realization that he didn’t know that—that the guy I’d slept next to was pulling a fucking gun on me with the intent to murder me—was the last straw, the last insult in my already shitty day.
Seriously, all I ever did was try to help people out. And this was my reward.
I kicked the gun out of his hand and shoved, using my grip on his abused arm to smash his face into the concrete.
“You fucking bitch!” he slurred, blood dribbling out of his broken nose.
I used my toe to flip him over, then planted the sole of my boot on his throat, pressing down to cut off his mewling tantrum. Huh...the crooked nose might actually improve his looks, give him some damned personality. “Trevor?” I said calmly. “Shut the hell up.”
He stared up at me, gasping like a fish out of water as I slightly constricted his airway. The big baby. “It’s bad enough you’ve been destroying the environment and endangering the lives of countless fae and nature-based creatures. But deciding to use me to get your way? Not a wise move, asshole.” I grinned at him, watching the knowledge of how badly he’d fucked up make its way into his tiny little brain.
“You know,” I said in a conversational tone, lifting my boot from his throat and slamming it into his crotch instead, pinning him so trying to get away would result in infertility, best case scenario. “My father’s people are just amazing at grudges and revenge. Ever heard of the wild hunt?” My smile deepened at his panicked groan, and my tone of voice was downright gleeful. “You see, if I was among my fae relatives, we’d strip you down and drop you in the middle of the woods on the dark of the moon. Then we’d send out the hounds and take bets on how long you’d last before you were taken down by one of the beasts or one of our archers.” I sighed wistfully. “Then there’d be the feast. Days and days of drinking and celebrating life. Well...not your life, of course.” I shrugged. “But you know all that, right? My mother’s side though....” I leaned in, bracing a forearm on my bent knee, putting my not-insignificant body weight on his junk, loving how something shifted under my foot and made him scream. “Well, she’d just rip you in half and swallow the still twitching bits whole.”
I straightened, shifting enough to release a bit of kraken, long tentacles erupting from my middle. Trevor-the-ass’s eyes went even wider, and I grinned in satisfaction at the sharp smell of urine as he wet himself. Removing my boot from his flattened manhood, I wrapped a tentacle around his ankle and turned, effortlessly dragging him across the rough, dusty floor toward the door. The pleading and sobbing was nice, I guess. But it didn’t make me feel any better. It didn’t really get rid of the hurt.
This was just one more in a long line of failures. Just one more disaster of a relationship to prove I was destined to be alone.
Exiting the building, I slapped another tentacle around Trevor’s neck and hoisted him up, pinning him to the exterior wall while I waited for the police to arrive. He was crying now. Ridiculous. I mean, if you’re gonna break a girl’s heart, murder unsuspecting elementals, and try to start your own mafia, at least have the decency to be stoic about it when you were caught.
I sighed, scanning the road as cars approached. After the last gold digger I’d dated, I had thought I’d found a good middle ground. Someone from a money family who wouldn’t be enthralled by my own family’s wealth. I had clearly underestimated people’s need for validation and revenge.
“So,” I said tiredly as we waited for the cops. “How did my family wrong you and set you on an epic quest for vengeance?” It was the story of my fucking life, like something out to of a bad T.V. drama.
He huffed and I let up on the strangling enough to allow him to speak. “We could have been billionaires, if it wasn’t for your fucking godparents,” he spat. “You people think you’re so great. That all the weaker beings should just fall in line.”
I rolled my eyes. “So they did something to keep your family from becoming even more wealthy—which your family was probably going to do in the worst possible way—and you get revenge by poisoning the wildlife? Weak, dude.”
He hissed and I shut him up before he could spew more stupidity, cutting off his air again. Seriously. I didn’t need to know what his whole twisted logic was. I was sick and fucking tired of constantly being used.
I was sick of thinking maybe just this once a relationship might be real. That someone might actually want me, rather than my family name, money, influence, or power.
Police officers surrounded us, and I held up my Environmental Police Agency badge. As if they could ever mistake me for anyone else, what with the tentacles and all.
“Shit, Lionheart,” the lead officer, Makowski, groused. “Let the guy breathe before I have to call a coroner!”
I huffed but relented, giving Trevor-the-terrible one last squeeze before I let him fall to the ground, unconscious from the combination of panic and lack of oxygen. His head bounced when he hit the grass-riddled blacktop. Huh. I really hoped he had a concussion.
“Lionheart!” Makowski snapped as the others got Trevor taken care of and tucked into a squad car. “The fuck?”
I shrugged. It was a legitimate question. Even I knew I was losing my shit. But a sort of fatalistic numbness had settled in, and I couldn’t find it in me to care. “He’s still breathing.”
Makowski eyed me, trying to look tough, his words firm, but his voice a bit wobbly. “You can’t just—for fuck’s sake, do you want him to go to trial or not? He’s gonna be screaming about police brutality and excessive use of force when he comes to.”
I shrugged again, pulling my tentacles back in and zipping my leather jacket closed over the midriff baring t-shirt I’d worn to allow for partial shifting. “Excessive is such a subjective term, don’t you think?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know the drill, Lionheart,” he said tiredly.
I waved him away as I headed to my own car. “Yeah, yeah. See you at the station.”
I slid behind the wheel of my ridiculous lime green Kia Soul. My family and the gold-digging dates hated the cheap, awkwardly-shaped thing. Which just made me more determined than ever to drive it ’til it died. I glanced at myself in the rearview. Damn it. My eyes were glowing with fae magic and my usually subdued freckles were currently a deep, octopus purple. The truth was, I really had gone too far. And part of me had enjoyed the hell out of it.
I took a few deep breaths. Monster of the deep meets offended high fae was really not a good look on anyone. Made people twitchy, then they brought out the supe straight jackets and stuff.
So I’d had my heart broken by an asshole bent on revenge. Big deal. I’d live.
It was just that I was so tired. And now I’d have to go spend hours at the police station filling out paperwork and giving my statement, when what I really wanted was a good pity party with some liquor and ice cream. Filing reports was not my idea of a good time. Signaling, I pulled out onto the currently deserted road and headed to town for a three A.M. visit with the police. You know, living the dream and all.
My phone buzzed and I tapped the console to have the text message read aloud.
“Message from The Demon Godfather: ‘If you get the chance to soak up the sun, take it.’”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. His messages were always so damned cryptic. But apparently, I was going someplace sunny.