Witches for Hire (Odd Jobs #1)(29)
“I’m parked in the garage four blocks away to the left of us.” Jeremy lowered his body beneath the window so he couldn’t be seen from outside.
“Why are you here?” Resignation clouded the strong tones of Clive’s voice, his half-lidded eyes and slumped shoulders indicating that he expected to hear nothing but lies as he pulled the car out.
“The same as you two, I suppose.”
“Specifics would be nice.”
Despite Clive not being like her old bosses, Edarra did miss some aspects of their horrible personalities. If a fellow employee kept mum about dangerous information, she would have been ordered to hold the tight-lipped person’s legs from the sunroof as they drove at high speeds down a deserted road for answers. Most of the time she said no, but every once in a while, she was glad to say yes. She smiled sweetly at Jeremy. “What did you find in the safe?”
“Nothing that I could bring out, obviously.”
Overheated circuits filled Edarra’s nostrils now that she was in an enclosed space with the deceptive witch. “Why does your phone have that burnt smell from taking a lot of pictures?”
Clive looked at Jeremy in the rearview mirror. “Withholding information is useless.”
“It’s not your concern,” Jeremy said. “You’re both new to this world, so why take on our problems?”
“Because this is my home now, and….” Clive blew out his breath. “Please rise. I look ridiculous speaking to you.”
“Then hurry and drop me off.”
Edarra held out her hand. “Your phone.”
“Fine!” Jeremy thrust his phone at Edarra while tapping his code across the screen. “Enjoy the can of worms you can’t take back.”
“I understand responsibility more than you do, which is why I will inform Simone of our activities,” Clive said.
“You just want to place all the blame on me.” Jeremy’s head rose in anger, his usually combed and styled hair sticking up in all directions, and then he sank down again.
“Regardless of your feelings, it’s obvious that we have communication problems.” Clive nodded sagely. “We’re all at fault, and honesty will fix the situation.”
Edarra winced. Simone was the only one in the dark. What a fine way to repay her kindness. Why did Jeremy have to go sleuthing on his own and make us doubly guilty in going behind her back? Stupid me, wanting to beat up more things after that burglar. I need to find a gym with decent sparring opponents, or I’ll never make friends.
Chapter 10
JEREMY DIDN’T care if not returning to the office made him a coward. Simone being the sole person locked out of lunch-break vigilantism wasn’t intentional, but blame would fall on his head anyway. The pain radiating through his body since the tonic had worn off was bloody perfect, and the perfect thing he needed to catapult his day from beyond shit to utter hell. Like regular medicine, he couldn’t dump a vial down his throat on an empty stomach. Jeremy drove into a parking lot filled with cars while its neighbors’ sat empty. A chipped painting claiming the city’s best burgers and shakes greeted him while a gas station attendant from next door guarded his parking spots as if he were Gandalf blocking a balrog. Jeremy walked through a rickety door covered in old Coca-Cola signs, scents of well-handled burgers beckoning him inside. A quick glance at the tasty-looking plates of juicy meat accompanied with crispy fries gave him hope that the food might live up to the advertising. After he was seated and had placed his order, Jeremy downloaded a garish game about candy that helped Edarra whittle her time away on stakeouts.
“Urmp-hrm.”
Faces, surroundings, and thoughts from Jeremy’s worst memories faded over time, but smells remained cemented in his mind. The smell of coffee and cleansers mingling summoned hospital waiting rooms as if he were there right then, and a brand of cigar put him back with Levi’s body, his chest cavity blackened and dried while the rest of him was newly dead flesh. Trace hints of apple-tinted cigar smoke wafted to his nose from the throat clearer standing near his arm. Jeremy slowly raised his head. Council Member Salvatore winked at him as if he hadn’t questioned him from when Levi had been discovered until the next morning. Only Senator Ragsdale’s intervention had prevented Jeremy from contradicting his story out of exhaustion.
“May I sit?”
“Sure.” Why not fake civility and pretend he really had the option of denying one of the witches powerful enough to profess himself the magical law of Georgia two centuries ago?
Salvatore whipped the bottom of his tan trench coat out of the way and took the opposite chair. “Have you eaten here before?”
“No.”
Shrugging, Salvatore picked up the menu and read it as if the bloody thing was a bestseller. His flat brown hat slid down shiny bald skin as he turned the pages. He adjusted it to its rightful place by poking his finger up the side of his head, pushing against barely there stubble. Hairstyle choice, early baldness, or protection against a witch stealing his hair was anyone’s guess.
“The only reason a member of the Witches Council would come is because you know where I’ve been.” Jeremy tsked. “It’s a shame you’re too late. Whenever work leaves me with unwanted intel, I dispose of it technically and magically as soon as possible.” It had become Jeremy’s usual protocol after his second magic-for-hire job, when a dryad’s hair almost strangled him for a valuable flash drive he’d possessed.