Grave Mistakes (Hellgate Guardians #1)(17)
“I’m Jerif,” he informs me, his voice a deep rumble. Yep, that one also goes in the unusual column. Then again, my name is Delta, so I guess I can’t really be too judgy.
The Prodigy’s song, “Firestarter,” starts up in my head as I study him. This weird lava look works for him, but I can’t stop myself from gesturing to his hair and asking, “Pyromaniac?”
I endure about five seconds of sheer panic and a stop fucking talking moment while Jerif just stares at me. And stares. And stares some more. Out of the three of them, he’s probably the most intimidating.
Sweat beads on my brow. My eyes are too embarrassed to blink. I want to take the Swiss Army stick and smack myself over the head as I chuckle nervously like an idiot.
Slowly, the corner of his mouth turns up with amusement, and a relieved breath whooshes out of me. “Something like that,” he offers cryptically, and then proceeds to wag his black eyebrows.
That slightly douchey move does things to parts of me that it shouldn’t, and I suddenly get all fluttery low in my stomach. Who knew dudes who fancied an I am Magma look would do it for me? But I can’t deny he’s hot. Smooth, dark skin like cooled molten lava, and hair and eyes that seem to glow like they’re the embodiment of firelight. I wouldn’t mind him being inside me when he erupts.
“So, Delta,” Echo starts, pulling my heated attention back to him and his white hair and unusual tattoos. He has a glint in his stare that seems to consist of equal parts interest, suspicion, and jealousy. I bet he was a bad sharer as a kid. Probably an only child, and judging by the estate he seems to partially own, he’s milked a trust fund his whole life. “Would you mind accompanying us to the main house?” he states, his tone not really asking so much as telling.
The butterflies flitting around my stomach turn to rocks, and I’m suddenly certain I’m about to get fired. Fuck.
“I failed the test?” I ask them, cringing. “Can I have a redo, please? I promise, no attempted stabbings this time,” I tell them as I gesture to the walking stick. I lean it further away from me and them, just in case it goes all Bumblebee on me and transforms again. “You guys just caught me off guard. Iceman didn’t tell me the owners were down here.”
Crux runs his fingers through his long, balayage beachy blond locks and gives me a comforting smile. “You haven’t failed anything, Jeter. In fact, you caught us off guard. We didn’t realize we had an Inner Ringer. We never do, so that changes things. Plus, the whole going to hit a homerun thing you were doing with your scythe was impressive.”
“And her warrior cry. Don’t forget that,” Echo says with a smirk, and I flush with embarrassment.
“Right,” Crux agrees, his green eyes sparkling with humor. “We have something going on at the house right now, but we can quickly talk upstairs about how this is going to work since you’re more qualified than we were expecting.”
I’m immediately enticed. “More qualified as in...a possible promotion?” I ask, but then I realize how greedy that sounds, and I clear my throat. My momentary pause allows me to finally notice the alarm bells that are going off in my head, because what kind of bosses would offer a girl a promotion on her first day? The same kind who make them wear kinky leather outfits, and hand over stabby sticks that fuck Newton’s laws in the ass, Delta, my brain warns me.
I’m either about to learn first-hand about their sexual harassment policies or get fired. Dread pools in my stomach. I need this job, dammit. I really, really do.
Nerves skitter through my stomach. “Oh no, that’s okay,” I assure the surfer-dude, Crux, as I try and fail to maintain a nonchalant demeanor. “This is only my first day, after all. You guys just do...whatever it was you were doing in here, and I can go back to securing the graveyard.” I start to slowly back toward the door with a smile plastered on my face. “I really do like this cemetery, by the way. Very pretty. Lots of...headstones.” Really, Delta? I shoot them an awkward smile, even as I mentally shove my foot into my mouth. “It was nice meeting you guys. Enjoy your party, and I’m sure we’ll catch up some other time. Good day!”
Good fucking day? Who the hell talks like that? And it’s fucking nighttime!
I spin to hurry out the door, but in my haste, I smack into the doorframe. My face burns with humiliation as I stumble, and I hear one of them snicker behind me, but I don’t look back to see who. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.
I ignore the taunting moon as I hurry outside and make my way to the path. I feel their eyes burning into my back, but I just toss them an awkward see ya later wave and quickly pull out my flashlight so I can start securing the shit out of this place like a good little security guard and hope that my recent rejection doesn’t put me on the kidnap, kill, or fire list. I do not want to be murdered and buried in this outfit, dammit, and I seriously want to keep this job.
When I get far enough away that I can’t see them anymore, I snap up the radio and turn the dial to channel five. “What the fuck, Iceman? You could’ve warned me!” I hiss into it. Then I quickly press the button again. “Over.”
There’s a static pause before he answers. “Ah, Maverick. Lovely to speak to you again so soon,” he says, and I can hear the sarcasm dripping like honey from his voice.
“Why didn’t you tell me the bosses were going to be here? A little heads up would’ve been nice. I thought you were pranking me!”