Chapter Thirty-one

Morrisey came to slowly. Where was he, and how much had he drunk last night? He opened his eyes, only to slam them closed again. Pain.

“Oh, my apologies,” a smooth voice purred. The room immediately darkened.

Morrisey”s hackles rose, or as far as they could, given his headache. What died in his mouth? He wasn’t here alone and didn’t recognize the voice. Not good. After his latest black out, he’d woken in some guy’s bed and snuck out while the big bear of a man still snored.

The previous couple of minutes of memory surfaced. Someone at Morrisey”s place—and not his friendly neighborhood succuba. The pinch of a needle.

Blacking out.

He gave a discreet stretch, testing motion. No restrictions, so not tied. Last night’s alcohol swished around in his stomach. Please don’t puke, please don’t puke. Of course, it would serve the assholes right if Morrisey forcefully emptied his stomach all over them.

Whoever the fuck they were, who dared take him from his sanctuary.

This time, the room appeared much dimmer when Morrisey blinked his eyes open, but not too dim to distinguish the face of the man sitting in an overstuffed armchair nearby.

The room felt large somehow, diffused light peeking in from a series of long drapes, hinting at tall, arched windows. The dry air carried the summer storm scent he associated with Farren. Whereas Farren evoked thoughts of a fresh grass, this man brought to mind rotting apples.

Is this what Farren meant by herbs?

Morrisey sprawled on a rather uncomfortable couch, the kind more for show than sitting. The fabric prickled. A ray of sunshine filtering through the drapes cast a glow on a polished floor. Marble? At least he’d traded up on his surroundings.

Memories slammed into him. After a moment, the face registered. The asshole from the train tracks. Morrisey gasped instinctively. Even so, his heart hammered, and breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t dead yet, so must be of some use—for now—but he didn’t delude himself on the situation lasting.

Most people who knew Morrisey for over ten minutes wanted him dead.

“Ah, you’re finally awake. I’ve been waiting somewhat impatiently, I must confess.” The sound emerged smooth and cultured, so unlike what Morrisey thought a brutal murderer would sound like. ”If you had known your true nature and how to utilize your abilities, you would have overcome the sedatives” effects a while back. Lucky for me, you didn’t know. What’s the human phrase, ‘Ignorance is bliss?’”

Your true nature?A cop? A drunk? A middle-aged man with no prospects? “And what am I?” When in doubt, play dumb.

The man chuckled. “Not the pitiful human you pretend to be.”

Pitiful? Maybe. But… “I never pretended to be human.” Not by a long shot. Morrisey was just… himself. Some days, he scared even him. “What am I then, if not human? And who the bloody hell are you?”

Smug satisfaction oozed from the asshole’s voice. “In answer to your first question, a wonderful experiment that turned out exactly how I’d hoped.”

Vague much? “I’ve never been one for guessing games. Just say whatever the fuck’s on your mind and spare me the melodrama. And if you expect me to listen, you”d better have coffee. A ton of coffee.” And a pack of Marlboros.

”I”m afraid I have no coffee, and you can address me as Asher.”

The bastard had the same arrogant asshole voice some public figures used when convinced they were right and everyone else was sleaze.

“I didn’t ask what I could call you. I asked who you are. I’ll probably refer to you as bastard or motherfucker, regardless. I haven’t decided yet. You got a preference?” Morrisey considered his words, unable to stop poking the bear. “If you like Asher, what about asshole? It’s close.”

Asher, Asher, Asher. Morrisey scrolled through his mental Most Wanted folder, matching the visible portions of the man”s face. Nope. No matches, except maybe for the man throwing a murderer before a train. Why not take a shot in the dark? “Asshole Asher. Yeah, it fits you. Tell me, is throwing people under trains just a normal Wednesday for you?”

Asher didn’t acknowledge the barbs. “Only those who’ve served their purpose, aren’t discreet enough to avoid notice, or are otherwise no longer useful. Do you not throw away a disposable coffee cup once you’ve no further use for it?”

Not to hear Will tell it. He’d commented often enough on the growing piles of Styrofoam in the RAV4’s back seat.

Either this talking hemorrhoid was the murderer-by-train or an even bigger pile of shit than Morrisey originally thought. Although kidnappers weren’t necessarily killers, or vice versa, they weren’t mutually exclusive either.

“Speaking of, how much do you know about your parents?” The man spoke in such a straightforward manner he could simply be making idle conversation.

If not for the whole kidnapping thing.

Morrisey’s parents? What did they have to do with anything? They’d died years ago, so couldn’t serve as leverage now. They also couldn’t show disappointment at just how badly their son turned out. “Not that I owe you jack shit, but they were good people. They were already in their fifties when they adopted me. They passed away a couple of years back.” They’d doted on him, a bit old-fashioned with rules, but they’d been fair.

Their passing left a hole in Morrisey’s soul.

Asher the Asshole gave an indulgent smile. “I meant your biological parents.”

Not much, except one of them cursed him with big ears, and possibly a love of strong drink. He offered a shrug he hoped passed for, Don”t know, don”t care. “Nothing. They gave me up for adoption. The Jameses adopted me. End of story. I didn’t care enough to find out more.”

Liar. Not caring and no success aren’t the same things. He recalled Arianna’s warning email about someone digging into his past.

Did Asher look… disappointed? “They weren’t wealthy, but they doted on their only child. When he was at death’s door, I made them an offer. I’d save their son. They could raise him, but he’d be mine. One day I’d come for him. They gratefully accepted, paid the fee I asked, then ran, thinking they could hide you from me.” Asher gave a feral grin. “They couldn’t. Sadly, I sent incompetents to handle the situation. It’s so difficult to find good help, isn’t it? I lost you in the court system in the following chaos.”

Morrisey hadn’t been abandoned by parents who didn’t want him? This asshole killed them. Being dressed only in the boxers he’d slept in didn’t allow places to hide a gun. Oh, if only Agnes was here... ”What sort of pervert are you to try to buy a child?” What an asswipe!

Asshole Asher scowled. “Not what you’re thinking, I assure you. Since you knew nothing about your human parents, I suppose you didn’t know your actual parents either.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” It was too damned early to parse out this nonsense without a caffeine fix.

“Oh, right. You only recently suspected you have more in common with your partner than you originally thought. The only way to save the human baby’s life was to bring over an infant traveler. But not just any traveler. Your line has long been known for healing abilities, among many others.”

“You’re saying I’m a traveler?” No way in hell was Morrisey from… well, Hell.

“Yes, I am. Though you come from the bureaucratic class and your parents were Princeps through and through.” Asher paused for effect. “The ruling class. People in Domus would see you as royalty.”

King of jerks, maybe. The asshole had to be lying. “Here I’m just an average working Joe.” And content to be so. “I’m sure they’d be so disappointed.” Morrisey definitely was.

Again, with the indulgent smile Morrisey wanted to smack off the bastard’s face. “No. Once other travelers know of your existence, they will still regard you as elite. Your parents were highly regarded. Those who don’t revere you will fear you. Sometimes there’s more power to be gained through fear than through respect.”

“Were highly regarded?”

Asshole gave a maniacal chuckle worthy of many a late-night movie villain. “Ah, you didn’t think they surrendered their firstborn willingly, did you? Or rather, your highborn parent’s first legitimate spawn.”

Morrisey found thinking about anything extremely difficult right now, trying to throw off the effects of whatever someone had drugged him with while in desperate need of caffeine. If this asshat spoke even a fraction of the truth, Morrisey owed him for the deaths of two sets of parents, apparently. Reality hit. “You’re not Princeps.” He added a bit more smugness than absolutely necessary just to be a jerk.

In fact, Asshole was so not Princeps or even Magestra that Morrisey glimpsed a face superimposed over another, even in the semi-darkness.

Then again, Morrisey’s night vision seemed to improve.

“Yes, and no. My other parent was from the working class, a servant. And as so often happens here in the human realm, a wealthy employer took advantage, leaving my other parent with an illegitimate spawn. the spawn of a Princeps, Domus law forbade mixing between disparate tiers without approval, and they wouldn”t have allowed a joining. Their conceiving a spawn at all was highly unusual. My Princeps parent denied my parentage, banishing my lowborn parent and leaving me in the care of cold relatives.”

“Banishing? As in…”

“As in ceased to exist.”

What? Some bastard got some innocent pregnant and had them killed rather than own up to the responsibility? Morrisey didn’t know them but still wanted to land a few well-deserved punches. “We both grew up without our biological parents. Is our alleged shared history supposed to make me feel all warm and fuzzy about you? Are we supposed to bond over our tales of poor me?” Never in a million years.

“No. I’m simply leading up to another thing we have in common.”

“What’s that?” It certainly wasn’t a strong sense of reality.

“A Princeps parent.“

“A parent. I”m not interested in playing word games. Say what you gotta say.” The ice shard plunging into Morrisey’s belly said he already knew.

“Hello, brother.”

Brother? Like Loki and Thor? But who was Loki and who was Thor? Morrisey didn’t have the looks to pull off either.

Certainly not the hair and muscles of Thor. Nor the desire to have this asshole for a brother. “I’d rather stick with being an only child, if it’s all the same to you.”

The room had gradually brightened, more light streaming through the drapes. The sun must be rising.

A woman slunk into the room dressed in a long, red dress with matching red heels and fingernails. Her hair hung in ebony waves around her face—a face with a superimposed aura. She flung the curtains wide, letting in the sun and giving Morrisey a better view of the room and its occupants.

He shrank back from the daylight, shielding his eyes with his arm like some movie vampire.

Asher came into clearer focus. Dark hair and eyes, like Morrisey, but with paler skin, thin lips, and a body that likely didn’t see a gym much unless passing one on the way to Burger King. He”d dressed flawlessly in a navy suit, shoes polished to a high shine. The lord of the manor.

The woman stalked across the floor like some apex predator toward Asher’s chair. Jessa!

Hallelujah.

Until she wrapped herself around Asher from behind. “I see you’ve finally brought him to heel,” she purred, stroking her hand over Asher’s head like a faithful pet.

Morrisey opened his mouth to yell. Jessa winked.

What the fuck?

“She told you not to trust her, didn’t she?” Asher smiled, tilting his head backward to kiss the succubus. “You did good, my darling. Finding him for me.”

Jessa didn’t even shudder when her lips touched Asher’s. Either she made an outstanding actress, or she”d developed a taste for shit.

Morrisey sensed no one else in the body. So, Jessa had truly claimed this one for her own. So much for her speeches about helping the owners.

“You found me, lured me in.” Morrisey turned a venomous glare on Jessa.

“Guilty as charged.” Jessa giggled. Actually, fucking giggled! “Thank you for making the game fun.”

“Ah, you can’t trust a succuba.” Asher’s eyes took on a maniacal gleam. “Unless you summon them and hold their leash.”

Morrisey glanced from Jessa to Asher and back. “Leash?” Didn”t Farren mention a traveler summoning others to do their bidding?

Jessa’s eyes flashed when Asshole couldn’t see. He probably wouldn’t care, either.

Morrisey expelled a derisive snort, or the best he could manage. “If that’s the only way you can get a woman, I’d rethink my methods if I were you. Hell, I do better at attracting women, and I’m gay.”

Asher made a big production of scanning the room. “I don’t see you with a woman or anyone else.”

“I play for a different team. Jack and I are real close.” Morrisey leered. “I also go for men in uniform. Just ask Captain Morgan and Sailor Jerry.”

Confusion crossed Asher’s face.

Jessa stage whispered, “I think he’s saying he’d rather drink than fuck.”

Not the whole truth, but the truth seemed to be lacking here. However, Jessa knew about Morrisey and Farren yet said nothing. Keeping the information as an ace up her nonexistent sleeve?

Morrisey needed to stall for time, for reasons unknown to him, but it always worked in the movies. “If we’re brothers, I think I made out better in the genes department than you did.”

Once again, Asher didn’t take the bait. “Back home, I had a huge following.”

“Then why don’t you go back there, where you’re wanted? Was there Instagram there? Because Instagram followers don’t count. Though I can’t imagine why.” Was this waste of skin able to travel between the realms?

Asher”s grin wasn”t a good sign for... somebody. “You honestly don’t know, do you?”

“There’re lots of things I don’t know.” Didn’t want to know. The only thing Morrisey wanted to know was how the hell to get away.

“Our home realm is deteriorating as we speak. No one knows how or why. Currently, it’s sixty percent smaller than ten years ago. In another few years, our home realm will be destroyed.”

“I’m here. What’s that got to do with me?”

”You”re currently the top-ranked member of our society in Terra. All our people would look to you for guidance if you’d let them. You could rule them all.”

Morrisey ran through what he remembered about Princeps. Not much. He should’ve paid better attention. “Rule? Ha! I can’t even keep my apartment clean, let alone worry about someone else’s life.” Judging by this smug bastard, he intended to be the power behind the throne. Wasn’t no one standing behind Morrisey, particularly not Asher the Asshole. He’d already shown his willingness to throw the unsuspecting under a bus. Or rather, a train.

A crease formed between Asher’s dark brows. “It is your birthright.”

“But not your birthright.” Oh, how Morrisey loved digging a knife in.

Asher gave a barely perceptible flinch. Ah. Direct hit. Finally. “You have the position. I have the ambition.” He gestured with his hand to indicate the opulent surroundings: a room filled with antiques. The gilt frames hanging on the wall likely held original masterpieces. Asher somehow accumulated wealth and didn’t mind flaunting his ill-gotten gains. Who’d he kill to gain such wealth? Asher finished with, “Together, we’ll rule Terra, brother.”

Morrisey took a wild guess. “In other words, you need me, but I don’t need you.”

“To rule, you do. And I can still travel to Domus at will.”

Was he capable of moving between realms? Wait until Morrisey told Farren—if he got to see Farren again. ”I have no intention of leading anybody.” Morrisey examined his fingernails, knowing full well how to look the part of an uncaring asshole. Must be a family thing, though he didn’t believe for a minute he had anything in common with someone callous enough to kill without remorse. Even Morrisey spared some thought for the lives he’d taken, though he’d only done so to save his own or others.

“You would if you knew the alternative.” Asher’s movie villain grin chilled Morrisey’s blood.

“What’s the alternative?”

“You do not know how many of our kind are already here, do you?”

“Not really. I just found out about our kind a few weeks ago.” Not that Morrisey agreed with the our kind shit. He couldn’t be a traveler. He was human, damn it, and not a very good one.

“There are those who’d like to wipe out the human race, filling each body with an entity from our realm. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Saving all our people. Or the ones who matter, anyway. And here, it doesn’t matter what class someone was born into. Already I have elevated clerks to lofty positions they’d never hold otherwise. Their gratitude is valuable currency.”

“What makes you think anyone would follow me? I don’t have money or power.” Or charisma. Couldn’t forget Morrisey’s total lack of people skills.

Asher gently caressed Jessa”s arm where it lay over his chest. She brought back to memories of a model from an 80s rock video. “I’ve spent years amassing wealth.”

“By charging travelers to bring them here, then killing them if they can’t or won’t pay? You’re charging humans, too, for healing their loved ones, aren’t you?”

Asher shrugged. “Business transactions, nothing more. I fulfill my promise. Their dying loved ones live on. As far as they know.”

Jessa”s unexpressive face appeared as if it had been carved from stone. She’d been summoned against her will, used for her ability to feed off sex, to attract sexual partners. And she’d hunted Morrisey for this power-grubbing bastard.

“All those sex workers? Why kill them?”

“A few of those workers refused to give me my due. Others tempted people in positions of power, getting me near enough to replace them with my own loyal subjects or to blackmail them.” Asher shrugged. “Either works. But when I no longer have use for a tool, they become liabilities.”

Fury flashed in Jessa’s eyes. Had she been hoping Morrisey would have figured things out by now, killing Asher and setting her free?

The anger in her eyes spoke volumes. Unless you summon them and hold their leash. She couldn’t betray Asher because he held power over her. She’d completed her task of finding Morrisey, winning sympathy he hadn’t known he possessed, but maybe Asher’s hold meant she couldn’t reveal details about her boss.

“How about those mothers at a birthday party? They were innocent.”

Asher let out an overly dramatic leer. “Some of my hounds slipped their leashes.”

“You know, if a pet dog kills, the owners are held responsible. Anyway, why did the kids survive?”

“Even the lowest of our kind revere spawn. Not even an occisor would harm one.” Asher grinned. “Humans won’t know those were occisor kills. Once our kind is common knowledge, such incidents will be all the provocation they need.”

Holy fuck. “You plan to start a war.”

“Correction. I plan to win a war.”

“It would’ve screwed up your plans if the asshole who attacked me had killed me.” Morrisey owed the fuckwad for the night in the alley.

Asher scoffed. “You were never in any danger from the likes of him.”

Morrisey nodded in Jessa’s direction. “What happens to those like her who need human emotions to survive if you plan to wipe out humans?”

“Oh, we won’t kill them all. Humans keep cattle for food, don’t they?”

Morrisey’s stomach twisted. “I don’t feed from humans. Give me a medium rare steak any day.”

“Oh, but you will. You have powers you haven’t even begun to discover. Only by feeding properly will you have the ability to use them.”

Fuck. “I’m not feeding from humans.” No how, no way. Nor did Morrisey believe he could.

“If you’re starved long enough, you will. In fact, you’ve been experiencing headaches, haven’t you? They’ll only get worse over time now that your powers have awakened.” Asher shifted his focus to the left. “Gentlemen. Please show our guest to his room.”

Jessa widened her eyes, but otherwise said nothing.

Two hulking bodybuilder types swaggered in, pausing near Morrisey. Both had two faces. Travelers. Too easy. Grabbing the back of the couch, Morrisey leveraged his feet up and kicked.

Direct double crotch shots!

“Ahh!” One man screamed and crumpled. The other merely grunted and doubled over. Morrisey scrambled down the length of the couch. A hand grabbed his ankle. He punched blindly, landing a solid right hook to the second man’s head.

The cold click of metal on metal made him stop, rolling his eyes upward. Asher stood over him, aiming a .38 at Morrisey’s head.

Morrisey gulped, pouring on enthusiasm he didn’t actually feel. “I can’t wait to see my room.” If he had special powers, they were long overdue to kick in and save his sorry ass.

Asher inclined his head, keeping the gun squarely aimed at Morrisey. “I thought you’d see things my way.”