Black City
Page 35I stopped in the doorway. On my bed was a pair of black leather pants that I knew did not belong to me. Next to the pants was a wine-colored sweater that looked like it left nothing to the imagination. There was also a scrap of black lace barely identifiable as underwear, and a matching bra. Next to all these things was a winking blue jewel—Puck’s talisman.
“You little shit,” I swore. I don’t know how he knew I was going to call him, and not for the first time I wondered whether the talisman allowed him to eavesdrop on my life. I swept the clothes aside, intending to ignore his not-so-subtle directive.
But then I reconsidered. My own clothes were always getting ripped or torn or bloodstained, and I was never able to present myself very impressively to the faerie. Even though I could give a flying farthing about faerie protocol, I could appreciate that my chances of getting J.B. back were stronger if I made a good impression.
Not on Titania, of course. Nothing I did was going to make a good impression on her at this point. But the rest of the court could sway her if I presented my case well enough—and if I looked like I belonged.
I drew the line at wearing the underwear. There was something really creepy about Puck choosing underwear for me, like he expected to see me in it.
I put on my regular cotton undies and pulled on the pants and sweater. I glanced at myself in the mirror and almost changed my clothes. The pants and the sweater clung to every curve I had. I felt indecent, even though I was covered up from wrist to ankle.
The jewel winked at me, reflected in the mirror. I grabbed it and said his name. “Puck.”
It grew warm to the touch. I sensed the air in the room change.
“Those pants look good,” Puck said.
I spun around and found him lounging against the doorframe. He looked me up and down.
“Looks good from the front, too,” Puck said.
“Will you quit ogling me? You’re old enough to be Lucifer’s brother,” I said.
Puck gave me a half smile. “Not just old enough to be.”
“Why else would we hate each other so thoroughly?” Puck said. “Nobody knows how to swing the knife like family.”
“And that means you’re my great-great-great-whatever-uncle?”
Puck nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Then that is even freaking ickier that you would buy me underwear.”
“Don’t worry. The blood relation is distant enough that it would not be unnatural for us to have sex.”
“It would be unnatural in my brain,” I said, shuddering.
“It would be like nothing you have ever experienced before, I promise,” Puck said, winking at me.
“Stop talking, stop talking,” I said. “Angels might have no compunction about screwing their relatives, but humans definitely do.”
“You had sex with Lucifer’s grandson,” Puck said. “And you are also related to Lucifer.”
“Yeah, but there are a lot of intervening generations between me and Lucifer…” I trailed off, because Puck was grinning at me knowingly. “It was different with Gabriel.”
“How?”
“I’m not having sex with you, and that’s final,” I said.
“You said you were Lucifer’s brother,” I said.
“I am. But that doesn’t make me an angel,” he said.
“I know, you are the leaf on the wind or whatever,” I said, remembering something he’d said the last time Puck was in my bedroom. “Why are you telling me all of this now?”
Puck shrugged. “Perhaps I would like you to call me Uncle. I thought you would like to know that we are family.”
“Nobody swings the knife like family,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
His blue eyes danced like the jewel I gripped in my hand. “So suspicious.”
“I think I have earned the right to my suspicions. And you haven’t asked why I called you here at all.”
He tilted his head to one side. “I had presumed that you wanted your king back, and called me to assist you in that matter. Since brother dearest is out of touch again.”
“He’s not my king,” I said. “J.B. is my friend. And where does Lucifer go when he disappears?”
Puck shook his head. “That is for him to tell.”
“He’ll never tell me,” I said.
“He will. Soon enough,” Puck said.
“Elements of it. Possibilities.”
“Like Lucifer. In other words, nothing really useful.”
“Would a crystal ball be a comfort to you?” Puck asked. “Would foreknowledge of your lover’s death have made it easier to bear?”
“If I’d known about it, I could have tried to stop it,” I said.
Puck tutted. “And you would have broken the rules. You know that once a death is foretold, it cannot be undone.”
“Who sets these rules, anyway?” I said.
“Now, that is knowledge you are definitely not permitted to have,” Puck said. He held out his hand to me. “Now, shall we go to fetch your king?”
“I can’t go without the others,” I said.
Puck frowned. “How many others?”
“Five,” I said.