Witches for Hire (Odd Jobs #1)(31)

When Salvatore sat, hazy images flitted in the spoon. Jeremy scooted the spoon just a bit closer to his unwanted dining guest, and the images sharpened. It was a simple scrying spell of intentions that in olden times was used as a greeting between rival coven heads meeting each other. Jeremy was technically in that role for Witches for Hire, and Salvatore definitely counted as a Council representative. It had rarely been used in recent years, but no one considered it a threat. Jeremy took a large bite of his burger so Salvatore wouldn’t notice him being distracted. Damn, it was juicy, and melted on top was quality cheddar. This burger deserved him moaning in pleasure as tribute, but he was loath to do it in front of an audience. Once he stopped chewing, he looked at the spoon. Since it was a tiny reflection, Jeremy had to squint to see a pair of arms, and then two pairs. A tiny face turned, and Jeremy saw himself.

“Anything interesting?”

Jeremy jerked his head up. Brown irises with tiny gray spots stared at him. “Beg your pardon?”

“The little kitchen-witch spell.” Salvatore leaned forward on his elbows. “Do you see anything scary?”

“If I did, are you worried that I might do something about it?”

“We can test your theory.”

Jeremy straightened his shoulders because he wasn’t going to be intimidated by a cretin who pissed on personal boundaries. “You don’t have the right to threaten me when you’re bending your own rules.”

Salvatore grinned with his normal casual demeanor. “That wasn’t a threat. I think an old-fashioned duel would be amusing.”

Jeremy’s gaze returned to the spoon. More shapes and lines solidified, and he could make out what was happening. Hands clutched miniature Jeremy’s shoulders around his neck. Does he intend to kill me? Jeremy thought. “Me against a Council member?” I’ll finish anything between us if he starts it.

“The innocent act must grow tiresome.”

Jeremy stabbed a few fries in ketchup and crunched them into his mouth. Wasting their crispy goodness was the only reason Salvatore wasn’t wearing them. “If I’m saddled with your company, you should at the very least pay for my meal.” His wrist knocked his spoon closer to Salvatore.

“You already ordered, so my presence has no bearing on your financial situation. Also, I only pay for meals during official meetings or intimate settings like dinner.”

The second miniature person solidified into Salvatore. He is the other person. The two men inside the spoon moved faster. Wait. Salvatore slid his hands down and the image moved to heaving lower bodies, Salvatore spreading Jeremy’s asscheeks so he could—Jeremy choked. He grabbed his lemonade. When his throat no longer burned, he stared at Salvatore with wide eyes. “What the bloody hell?”

Salvatore pointed at him. “It’s your own fault for casting spells on my intentions. I wanted to wait for a less stressful time to mention it, but your curiosity always gets the best of you.”

“You absolutely did that on purpose, you wank—” Their server arrived again and brought Salvatore his plate.

“I’m grateful. Watching him eat was torture,” Salvatore said.

The server grinned. “Customers died down so your food was ready faster. Is there anything else I can bring you? Refills?”

“No worries, ma’am, we’re doing great.”

No, we are not, Jeremy thought. He wants to fuck me?

“You two holler if something isn’t to your liking.” The server moved on to another table, leaving Jeremy to share a meal with a Council member who had the hots for him.

“This is a very strange day.”

“You can forget about it for now.”

“Good, because I have too much to deal with.” Jeremy dumped the tainted lemonade out of the spoon, so the images of Salvatore fucking him would vanish. “When I finish my food, my car better purr like it’s brand new.”

“Don’t worry. If anything is wrong with it after I lift my spell, I’ll be willing to service anything you need.”

I should have hexed the cheeky bastard!




JEREMY LEANED on his car door as he waited for Simone to pick up the office phone.

“I’m a little busy with the Council’s minions acting like Gestapo!” Simone shouted the last away from the phone.

“I knew Salvatore had an ulterior motive.” Divide us so we wouldn’t make a fuss. If Jeremy had reached his senator father, their asses would have been out the door before they touched a drawer. He blew out his cheeks. “How much did they take?”

“You knew the Council was gonna shake us down and didn’t say shit!”

Not everything is my damn fault! he thought angrily. “Salvatore disabled my car and phone. What did they take?”

“Everything with a phone number, address, or anything useful. They had the nerve to act like they were doing us a favor by leaving us these scraps. Wait… you saw one of them in person?”

“I’ll be at the office in thirty minutes.”

“You didn’t answer—”

“Bye.” He hung up and wondered what else could go wrong.




ONCE, CLIVE could have memorized the military movements of three allied countries’ battalions, and now he only recalled dribbles of notes Jeremy had sent him before ambling off to his car. Cell phones were to blame. They were treacherously easy to use and played cute songs to remind him of scheduled meetings. At least Earth Realm’s laws against mind invasion protected what little information they had left.