“She’s a scrawny thing next to me, Jar. She’s not going to hurt me. Hell, I’m surprised she doesn’t get squashed under you. Did you tell her that’s why I stopped sleeping in the same bed with you, in case you rolled over and—”
“Enough!” Jared’s tone quivers with hurt, while mine pierces like an arrow. I see Patsy grab her left eye, and I know that the banshee version of an ocular migraine is about to make her week a living hell.
Yay. Goody. I mean, oh, what a shame.
I push away from Jared’s side, slowly walking to Patsy.
My steps are measured, trying to force control into my seething body in just a few feet.
“I like when he’s on top. Underneath. Behind.
” I close my eyes with an exaggerated look of pleasure on my face, exaggerated for her benefit, not because it’s untrue.
“He didn’t tell me anything about you, except that you hurt him. Guess he’s mine to heal, huh?”
“I... Whatever you say. I still say that you’d better up your insurance or plan to have your own bedroom,” Patsy mumbles, rubbing her forehead.
That fucking does it. I grab the Prius by its short, stubby tail and yank backwards, letting out a little cry of spiraling song to pull up some of my banshee powers.
The car moves.
Patsy falls.
“Crap,” I whisper.
“That was so fucking fantastic!” Jared sweeps me into a hug over Patsy’s collapsed form. “Superwoman!”
“Well, ha ha. I hope you still think that once she wakes up and starts screaming at me.”
Jared releases me and bends to shake Patsy. “She’s out.”
“She will be for a few hours, too.”
“Well, let’s see what papers she was screaming about,” he sighs, picking up the fallen sheets from under her. “Oh. Oh... Oh, damn it!”
Each “oh” changed pitch, from confusion, to surprise, to anger. When he stops, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve been divorced for months, but my publishing bonus was part of the contract I had while I was still married to her. It’s just been paid out recently, but Patsy’s lawyer seems to think she gets half.”
“What’s a publishing bonus?”
“I was credited in the publication of a paper on honeybee decline that included my specialty area of research, potential medical interventions to stop whatever viruses or mites may be contributing to the decline. At the last university where I worked—one of the biggies— lead scientists and professors got bonuses per paper they published in a scientific or peer-reviewed journal. For us lowly assistants, there was also a bonus, much smaller, but still pretty hefty to me. Twenty grand if it was published in an international journal. Which it was.”
“And she wants ten thousand dollars for work you did while you were married—but didn’t get paid for until after the divorce? Is that even legal?”
Jared shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t care. Patsy’s lawyer does what he wants to get his cut. I’ll write her a check, and she’ll go, leave us alone.”
But my insides don’t like that idea, because I can see the shit that’s coming—in little flashes, little blinks of misery and frustration.
Not that the money matters, but the way in which Patsy lords it over him makes him feel like she’ll always be a part of his past he can’t shake, a constant reminder of the pain she likes to inflict.
“She’s going to keep doing this. Every time you publish from now on and get a bonus, she’s going to argue that it was based on work you did while married to her, even if the payout comes much later.
She’s going to find a shifty lawyer and a bored judge, and they’re going to keep coming back to get more and more money—because she likes making you pay.
It’s her way of making sure you never get rid of her. ”
Jared shrugs. “Don’t I know it. I heard her bragging once when we were first separated, saying that she was going to be single with a string of lovers for the rest of her life so that I’d always be her personal piggy bank. I guess I was too much of a pushover to keep fighting in court.”
My hands rub his shoulders. “That’s not true. You were hurt and lonely. You were shocked that someone who once claimed to love you so much would treat you like that.”
Jared looks into my eyes. He’s so much more than cute at this angle. There’s a handsome earnestness in every line. A quiet, tenacious nobility. “The strongest warriors know when to leave the battle,” I whisper.
“You don’t think I’m weak? Or whipped?”
“No. No, I think you hoped someone better would come along—and I’m here now.
” I slide my hands through his and squeeze tight.
“Will you let me fight this battle my way? I promise—she won’t get hurt.
Well, she’ll probably have a migraine, a real big case of shame, and her bank account will be a lot lighter. ”
“What are you going to do?”
“Um. I have a couple of friends in town—one of them is your landlord, and he’s going to be in his office tomorrow, I think.”
“My landlord? Alban Wymark? What’s he have to do with this?” Jared shakes his head, baffled.”
“He’s a lawyer and a warlock. By tomorrow afternoon, I think we might get Patsy to sign a new alimony agreement, a legally binding one—all of her entirely free will. Honest.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Well, first, I’m going to call Artie, the police officer. He’s a pooka. He understands magical accidents, believe me.”
“What’s a—never mind. I’ll look it up later.”
I whip out my cell phone and scroll through my contacts. Fortunately, Artie’s in there, and more fortunately, he picks up. “Artie?”
“Hi! How’re you, stranger? Oh, no. Is something wrong? Did someone break into your shop?” Artie’s voice goes from calm and relaxed to full-on officer in seconds.
“Someone tried to wedge their car into my alley, sassed me, sassed my boyfriend, and got my recycling bin wedged under her car. There was a little argument—she said my bins were against the penal code.”
Artie snorts. “Oh, no. Not the dreaded person who thinks they can quote the penal code as an intimidation tactic.”
“Nailed it. She’s a little... banshee’d.”
“How little?”
“Right now, she’s snoring on the sidewalk. Tomorrow morning, she’ll wake up feeling hungover as heck.”
“Oh, no. Vagrancy and public ‘drunkenness.’ Now, that’s against the penal code. I’ll be right over.”
“Wonderful, we’ll be waiting. Oh, and do you know if Liam is still in town?”
“Liam! Yes, he is, but what do you want with that reprobate?”
“Oh, come on. He’s not really a reprobate. He’s just on a different diet than the rest of us. It could be worse.”
“You’re right about that. I can help you find him.”
“Well, I’ll pay his bar tab if he plays nice with this lady.”
“Chloe, what in the world are you thinking?”
“I just want him to meet her tomorrow and see if he can’t charm her into accepting one of his famous proposals.”
Jared’s eyebrows fly sky-high. “Who?” he mouths.
“Incubus who lives out next to Jax Alley, the roadhouse that’s kind of dingy... but fun,” I mouth back.
“Pooka. Warlock. Incubus.” His brow is furrowed and his mouth hangs open.
“Banshee.” I beam. “Don’t worry, honey. Every monster I just mentioned is less evil than this thing,” I whisper, and nudge Patsy with my foot.
“I’ll be right over,” Artie sighs.
“I owe you anything in the shop, officer.”
“No, thank you. Just doing my duty.”