Darkest Misery Read Free Page A

path, hands pinned behind his back. Smooth, efficient, and I hated to admit it, but impressive.
    For the second time today, I blinked at Tom in surprise. Well then. I’d known for a while that Tom carried a small arsenal of rare weapons. I suppose I should have expected he wouldn’t be a slouch in hand-to-hand combat.
    Feeling stupid, I walked over while massaging my tailbone. “I’ll consider your apology if you’ll cooperate now.”
    Johnson’s confusion was heady. If only I had some super healing powers I could activate with the juice he was feeding me. Instead I was stuck with a useless head rush and a sore butt.
    â€œI want a lawyer,” he said. The annoyance was gone from his tone, his voice quiet and resigned.
    â€œWhy? What did you do?” Tom asked. He hadn’t loosened his grip.
    â€œNothing.”
    Tom didn’t get it, but I did. So yeah, this was why I was here.
    I sighed and knelt in spite of the pain. “No one’s arresting you because of your gift.”
    Johnson’s dark skin seemed to turn a couple shades lighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    I almost laughed at his denial. He’d rather run and make us think he was a criminal than admit to being a misery junkie.
    For a fleeting second I considered whether there was a reason for that. Wouldn’t it be just our luck to come all this way to find a guy who I believed was screwed over by the Gryphons, only to have him turn out to be another murderous Victor Aubrey? Then the second passed and I knew better. Face-to-face with Johnson, I couldn’t sense any evil in him. Victor, on the other hand, had reeked of it—a foul, burnt-oil taste that set off my gag reflex.
    â€œMr. Johnson, listen to me. I know what you can do because I can do it too. I can sense negative emotions, and no one is here to arrest you. We’re actually here to help and explain, and to apologize.” I glared at Tom as I spoke the last word, and he returned the expression.
    Whatever. Just because he didn’t think Le Confrérie needed to apologize for screwing up our lives didn’t mean they shouldn’t. An apology had been part of my condition for coming along. Though, to be fair, I was glad now that I had. Johnson needed my reassurance. Tom had been right about that much.
    I wet my lips. “Tom, let him go. He knows I’m not lying.” I hoped so anyway.
    Tom wasn’t happy, but he released Johnson’s arms.
    Johnson stretched his shoulders a few times, looking between us but mostly at me. “I’m really not the only person with this curse?”
    With an achy effort, I climbed to my feet. “It’s not a curse, and no. Agent Kassin here is going to explain a lot of things to you after he apologizes, but we should have this conversation indoors.”
    Johnson stood, clearly dubious. Although I couldn’t sense curiosity, I felt confident we’d gotten his attention. He picked up his backpack and gestured for us to follow him into the back. “All right. If the two of you can really explain things, I’m all ears. I’ve got a lot of questions.”
    â€œBe prepared to have your mind blown,” I said, adopting a falsely cheerful smile.
    A short time later, Mitch sat across from me, cradling a beer bottle in his hands and probably wishing he’d opted for something stronger. “So let me get this straight. The Gryphons are the ones who made a mess of my gift, and they did it because it appears a prophecy about some really old preds escaping from a magical prison is coming true, and I’m supposed to be able to fight them?”
    Condensation slid down Tom’s water glass and dropped onto his perfect pants. “That’s the gist. If we’d known the experiments had worked—”
    Mitch laughed the slightly insane laugh of someone who can’t believe what he’s hearing. “This is crazy. I’ve