Page 56 of Darkness

Morrisey returned to his seat. “Oh, don’t mind Leon. He’s harmless—mostly. If you came here to nag, leave now.”

Jessa shoved a few magazines, a pair of shoes, and several pairs of socks in various states of cleanliness onto the floor, wiped at imaginary dirt on the couch cushion, and then sat, removing her shoes and tucking one foot beneath her. She seemed unfazed by Morrisey’s grouchy attitude. “I didn’t. I see you got in with the crowd I don’t trust. How’s that going for you?”

Morrisey presented his glass for a refill. "If you assume I will discuss cases with you, you are sorely mistaken." Especially when he’d been drinking a while to forget the details himself. He only slurred his words a little. Go him.

“I didn’t have time to tell you before, but I’m sorry about your old partner. To those we’ve lost.” Jessa refilled Morrisey’s glass with two fingers of tequila and lifted her cup, but when Morrisey didn’t meet the toast, drank anyway. “From what I understand, he was pretty good. For a human.”

Morrisey slammed back the tequila and wiped his mouth on his hand. Anything to keep from showing the hurt she’d just dredged up—hurt Morrisey had been hiding well. Denial, like most other things in life, had its place. “What do you know about him?”

“He didn’t deserve to die, and someone from my home realm is responsible, even if indirectly.”

No faulting her assessment. “Do you know the perpetrators?”

“No. I told you before, I avoid demons.”

“Travelers,” Morrisey corrected automatically, having heard Farren do so enough.

“Nah. I’ve met them, remember? Most are pretty evil if you ask me. I’m a traveler. About ninety percent of those who hang out where I do definitely fall into the demon category. Trust me on this.”

“But not you.”

“Nope, not me.” Jessa took another sip of tequila. “I help women get even with exes, stand up for themselves, and endure their Pilates workouts. I’m fucking awesome.” With a grin and a wink, she added, “I’m also pretty awesome at fucking, but you’ll have to take my word unless I show up wearing some handsome young man.” She raised an elegantly arched eyebrow. “I could, you know.”

Morrisey shuddered at the thought. “Don’t you dare.”

“Yeah, I suppose I’d have to work hard to find someone more attractive than your new partner.” Now she waggled those perfectly groomed eyebrows. “I mean… that ass!” Jessa pantomimed spanking something at ass-height with her hand. “I’ll bet that ass wouldn’t even jiggle if I smacked it.”

“Leave Farren out of this.” Morrisey’s bleary mind did not need the visual of Farren’s pert ass embellished with a handprint—Morrisey’s handprint. Especially when he’d yet to work out how he felt about Farren walking around in a dead body. But was it really dead? Morrisey shifted on the couch cushions, his jeans feeling tight. “What do you know about Farren Austen?”

“Not much. He’s some kind of cop. I tend to avoid those. Although I don’t harm my hosts and usually leave them better than I found them, some people get really touchy about the morality of what I do.”

“How so?” There seemed to be two of her, but both Jessas were taking Morrisey’s mind off things he didn’t want to think about. She could keep right on talking.

Jessa turned to face Morrisey more fully. “When I leave here, me and Mary are going clubbing and find somebody to fuck.”

“That’s not consensual if Mary’s not in control.”

“Mary’s only out of control because she wants to be. She wants to get laid but is too shy. Don’t worry. I always practice safe sex, and I’ll find some nice guy. Another benefit of reading emotions. No assholes for Mary. Uh-uh. Not on my watch.”

“But you use people. Use their bodies for your own gain.”

The humor left Jessa’s face. She slammed her cup down on the cable reel coffee table—which would have been far more dramatic without about a pound of assorted bills spread out on the surface. “You’re wrong. I form partnerships. We each get what we want, and I honestly care about my hosts. With me, they don’t feel alone.”

“Do you use the same body more than once?”

Jessa shrugged, somehow making the simple move appear seductive. “If they want. Me and Piper go way back.”

“What about these friends of yours?”

“What about them?”

“Do they partner with their hosts, too?”

“No. I’m one of a kind.” Jess flashed a disarming grin, which promptly fell. “Most are summoned. There’s some asshole out there who knows how to pull us through a portal, then thinks he owns us, can make us do his bidding. Those who try to escape, well, there’s always a traveler in need of a body. He ejects the current spirit right outta there so a new one can move in. Kinda like a heartless landlord.”

Farren didn't miss the significance of the "us." “I thought you didn’t like other travelers. So, how can you have friends?”

“Only ninety percent are assholes, remember? There’s still another ten percent.” Jessa poured herself another drink and looked to Morrisey, who shook his head, surprised to find he still had tequila in his glass.

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