Witches for Hire (Odd Jobs #1)(12)



Simone rolled her eyes. That completely ruins the tone of my threat. “Rudy, stop talking.” She threw her machete on the ground. “Okay, I’m asking peacefully. What happened?”

Jeremy turned so his back was to her. Simone could hear him inhaling loudly. “Bloody hell.” He spun again to face her. “You remember that kid who came in asking Levi to search for her missing friend?”

“Cute little thing that Levi let hire him for a dollar?”

“Yeah, well it turns out the missing friend wasn’t imaginary, like we thought. He was a homeless witch who did tricks on the street corner.”

“And Levi, being the ex-cop, just had to look into it.” Simone sighed. “The witch was one of the serial killings, wasn’t he?”

“The Council wasn’t getting enough done to suit Levi, so he investigated on his own. He found the witch responsible, and then everything hit the fan.”

“Why would the Council keep this hushed?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t want to be the next victim.”

“It has to be more than that. I’ve never heard of anyone eluding the Council for so long.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Someone was bound to pull it off.”

“Is that it?”

“I only know as much as Levi could tell me before he sent me to look for you.”

I wish I could tell if he was lying. What would be the point in keeping secrets now? Simone’s lips quirked into what little of a smile she could give the jerk. “I won’t set another zombie on you, but this better be the end of it.” She picked up her machete and swung down hard, separating the revenant’s head completely. Simone kicked her leg out with a push of her magic, and both head and body slid into the hole.

Jeremy sprayed it with lighter fluid and struck a match. “May the dead find eternal rest,” he muttered. When the match landed, flames shot out of the grave, and the revenant wailed.

Rudy stared blearily at the fire. “Isn’t it something that you guys can settle your differences when hacking and burning dead bodies? There’s probably a psychological reasoning for that, but the trees look like angels.”

Jeremy bent down in front of the car door, so Rudy could see him. “Your leg is hanging by bone and skin. If I were you, I wouldn’t comment on other people’s issues.”

“Asshole has a point.” Simone watched the flames consume the body that convulsed despite the stake in its heart. There was no reason to fear it because that was all it could do in its death throes—thrash and cry to get back to its sister.





Chapter 4


THREE MORE twists and the wire closed into a small cage around the metal bottle containing the high-level protection potion. Jeremy had already superglued the top on, so it would only open at the hands of their first witch client who was scheduled to pick up the item an hour before they closed. He smiled wryly. If the boss survives a year, I won’t regret the last job folding within two months, or being stuck with Simone again. For weeks, word kept spreading about Clive’s low prices and honor. You could count on the fey to have the chattiest mouths out of the whole supernatural lot. Save their little ones, and you’re a saint.

“Jeremy, we have a customer up front,” Simone said from the intercom.

The light overhead pulsed red, confirming that trouble had walked through their doors. Can’t I have one fucking happy thought? Fog spread inside a blue crystal ball seated on an open-claw statue that Jeremy had gotten from a tacky décor shop. A man’s form tying lines of power together appeared. He jumped when too much magic zapped through them and burned his fingers. We really are becoming popular if magical cable thieves are casing us. This idiot probably thinks he can come back when we’re closed and siphon magic from the building. He opened the drawer beneath his desk and rubbed his hand across a black stone tablet. Pasting a smile on his face, he went out to greet their guest. “Hello, sir,” he said with a deep Southern accent when he came into the lobby. “How may Witches for Hire be of service?”

Simone’s eyebrows rose, but she nodded that she was letting him take the lead.

“I’ve heard a lot about your shop, and I’m having trouble with a large business deal. Do you have any spell bags for good luck?” the man asked.

Jeremy placed his hand on his chest. “Bless your heart. We’ve had quite a few of those requests, and I was just about to go out for a supply run. We can have some ready if you come back in an hour.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“Happy to help.” Jeremy held out the hand he had stroked the tablet with.

The man clasped it. “It’s a nice place you have here. I hope your business performs well too.”

That’s because you think all my hard work is a sippy cup for you, bastard, but you’ll pay for that, Jeremy thought as their hands separated.

“An hour,” the man said again while flashing a bright smile.

He’s probably going back to whatever sewer he crawled out of to find a more powerful focus to steal magic. The curse would kick in ten minutes later, and he would regret ever stepping his ugly rainbow sneakers into their office. When Jeremy finished waving to the imbecile, he found Clive standing behind him. “I took care of it,” he said with his normal English accent.

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