Col: His Destined Mate

by Georgette St. Clair

  He tossed her a smaller set of both types of keys, which she caught easily. They still had a metal initial T on the keyring: they had been Trish’s. She’d be taking that off the first chance she got.

  “Catch up with Rika later for all the paperwork.” Puma said. “Right now we gotta hit the ground running.”

  “I gotchu, I gotchu,” Jordy said, her short legs moving double-time to catch up with Puma’s long strides. She stuffed the precious keys deep into her pocket, careful not to jostle the bandage around her wrist.

  Wow, that was fast, she thought. She had just barely finished scrubbing clean the ritual drawing in her blood, per Cadmus’s instructions, off the floor of the shared room she slept in when she heard the ambulance’s arrival. Her wrist might still be throbbing where she had cut it, but the pain was well worth it.

  That Cadmus dude was legit.

  Chapter Nine

  Lily was back in the room she shared with Jordy, after TraceyAnn insisted that she take a dinner break. This was the first moment she had to herself since earlier this morning, and she relished the quiet. She sat on the edge of her bed, and reached for the comforting form of Mr. Calabash, hugging it tight, before returning it to its perch on her nightstand.

  The drawer to the nightstand was slightly ajar, which struck her as odd. She had remembered firmly closing it shut when she had first locked away her photos and the two driver’s licenses. Maybe it was a quirk of the furniture, which had seen a lot of wear and tear. Just to appease herself, she pulled it open, and saw that the Gideon Bible was slightly askew, unlike how she had lined it up so it was parallel with the papers underneath.

  Again, a simple explanation. The movement of the drawer had knocked it out of alignment. Nothing sinister, just your ordinary, every day paranoia – which was to be expected when you were on the run from a violent, drug-dealing ex.

  See, all her photos and the two licenses were exactly where she had left them. Why would Jordy go through her stuff? It was absurd — Lily had nothing of value, and besides, it wasn’t like there would be any other suspects if Jordy did take something of hers.

  She got up to splash water on her face in the restroom and caught the lingering trace of bleach. There was a spot of the floor near Jordy’s bed that had obviously been scrubbed recently. See? Her roommate was conscientious enough to clean up after a spill of some kind. Lily felt a stab of guilt. Now she was assigning nefarious motives to people who had done nothing but welcome her into their living space.

  Maybe TraceyAnn’s dislike of Jordy was rubbing off on her. Although TraceyAnn wasn’t always an ogre; she had probably been right in insisting that Lily go get some food, before continuing her third shift in a row at the Staff Childcare Center.

  She checked to make sure her staff ID, which allowed her free meals at the Staff Caff, was still slung around her neck, on the the day-glo yellow lanyard that further repeated that she was a member of the staff. Still wearing her mulberry linen overdress which was voluminous enough to keep from wrinkling, she walked into the familiar din of the Staff Caff.

  Although many of the employees there were dressed in medieval garb, the Staff Caff itself looked more like a large, institutional cafeteria with beverage dispensers, stainless steel steam tables and food service workers in regulation unis and hairnets. Stations were set up for hot entrees, deli food or salad bar. There were bountiful choices of snacks and desserts in the afternoon and evenings, replacing the granola bars or boxed cereals in the morning. Throughout the day there was also medieval inspired fare, in keeping with the overall Faire theme.

  Once staff members filled up their trays, they went through Staff Caff personnel who scanned their food and staff cards, entering the information into a database. It was as much to make sure that people didn’t abuse the system as it was to ensure that the cafeteria was always stocked with the most popular items employees chose.

  The Faire owner had really thought through everything and set up systems that reflected it.

  “Hey, Katie!” Rosa waved at her. Lily smiled to see the twins’ mom behind one of the food service stations. She had already learned that if she ordered anything from Rosa’s station, the woman was sure to give her an extra-large portion, despite her protests.

  “Hey, Rosa!” She waved back and headed towards the salads. After two Rosa-sized meals already, she’d have to start watching her weight.

  Once she checked out, she scanned the packed room for an empty spot. She only knew Jordy and Rosa, who were working, and of course it was next to impossible that two people from the Staff Childcare Center could ever take a break at the same time.

  Just her luck, she could see two people towards the back of the hall who were getting up with their trays, ready to get back to whatever work they did at the Faire. She rushed over to nab one of the spots, politely sliding in as soon as it was fully vacated.

  As she settled into her seat, she heard raucous laughter from a table nearby. The empty seat in front of her gave her a clear sightline to the cause, and with a start she recognized them. The owner of the Faire, and the hot hunky guys from the night before.

  Minus the one that she found herself looking for. The one whose eyes had peered into her soul.

  They were getting increasingly loud, drawing attention, although either because of their size or because Simon was sitting with them, none of the other diners said a word to reprimand them. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, not only because of their attractiveness—they were stunning, especially the one that could give Brad Pitt in his heyday a run for his money — but because three of them were acting like cave-men.

  With a sick fascination, she watched the huge, muscle-bound men eating with their hands, grabbing plates or even food items away from each other, and…did they just growl at each other?

  All the employees at the other tables hunched their shoulders and ignored what was happening. It was as if this were one of the Faire entertainments outside, brought indoors as another employee perk, another offering that they could choose or not to indulge in. Only she could see from her seat the red-faced owner of the Faire, looking like he was actively praying for the earth to open up and swallow him whole and nervously tapping at his sternum. Beside him was Brad Pitt’s hotter brother, calmly eating a large chunk of meat with his bare hands.

  They were like overgrown five year old kids, she thought, like the preschoolers only in larger than life action figure bodies. Poor Simon was the smaller kid who was terrified, who never got the attention that went automatically to the louder, misbehaving kids. The smaller kid that she always gravitated towards because they needed her more.

  At that moment, Simon looked up, right at her, a silent plea for help. And before she realized what was happening, she was up on her feet, already moving over towards them.

  Omigodthishotgirlisactuallycomingover. Simon’s thoughts, already in a turmoil, reached critical mass in his internal spin cycle. He wanted to look anywhere but at the melee that was happening in front of him. Why had he thought bringing them here was a good idea?

  Oh yeah. Food that was already prepared, including fare that would be more familiar to them. All they had to do was point to what they wanted, and carry their overflowing trays over to where they could have a meal together.

  That was the plan.

  Great idea in theory, but in practice it was an absolute disaster. And now this hot girl who had obviously been horrified by them was making a beeline to him, probably to complain about what absolute animals they were being.

  She would be half right.

  He was already feeling his throat closing in on itself, the way it always did when around a girl he found attractive. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? He was about to find out.

  She stopped next to Barric, who still hadn’t noticed her because he was too busy playing tug of war with Merek’s thick sirloin steak. With his teeth.

  Simon had to admire her guts. Any one of those guys could knock her down accidentally in the middle o
f their roughing around, and not even notice.

  Damn, she was pretty. Her lips were moving but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Was she whispering? No, just talking in a very low, soothing tone. Aylwyn was the first to stop and turn his attention to her. Beside him, Tybalt stopped chewing and was focused on her.

  And Simon, Simon was in luuuurve. He wished he could hear what she was saying, though. And in a few seconds, it seemed that Barric and Merek did too. They stopped their tug of war, Merek winning back his piece of steak with a Barric-sized bite out of it, but both were completely mesmerized by whatever the girl was saying.

  Now that they were quiet, he could hear some of what the soothing words were. Something about complimenting them on bringing so much lively energy to the Staff Caff, but they were intimidating to others eating here because of how obviously strong and large they were….so it would be wonderful if they matched their tones and energy to everyone else’s so all could enjoy being there during their mealtime.

  The four boys were eating out of her hand. Figuratively, but at this point he didn’t care if they did it literally. His eyes landed on the girl’s staff ID, and the dayglo lanyard with STAFF as a repeating pattern —thank God, because he was less tongue-tied around staff. He found his voice.

  “Please, can I have a few words with you?”

  One of the boys started to hoot, but was quickly shushed. The hot girl’s eyes grew round, and Simon quickly stammered. “It’s nothing bad.”

  She nodded, even though she gave him a suspicious side eye, and he got out of his seat quickly, making his way to her. By some miracle, the boys had resumed eating, and Simon led her a few yards away from them, in a small area of the Staff Caff where they couldn’t be overheard.

  She works for me, she works for me. Simon had a little mantra going in his head, to drown out the nerves. After all, this would be strictly professional. Not like asking her out on a date, which he couldn’t anyway, for a bunch of HR reasons. Not to mention, the fact that hot girls terrified him. He pushed his glasses back up, and forced himself to look at what eye color she had. Little trick that he had learned, so he could talk to women without looking away, or, you know, literally dying of embarrassment.

  Especially when she was looking right back at him, eyes filled with terror that he was about to fire her. Rich, espresso eyes.

  “You’re hired. Whatever you’re doing here at the Faire, I’ll pay you double if you work for me directly.”

  Her jaw fell open.

  “To do what?” Her tone was incredulous.

  “To do your magic on these boys.” Simon said. “Whatever it was you did just now, I need you to do more of it. I think you can see that these boys need some – support – in fitting in, like with table manners, and situational awareness. They’re, uh, from overseas and they also need some help with their conversational skills.”

  He looked at her badge. It read, “Katie Cooper, Staff Childcare.” Belatedly he realized he hadn’t even introduced himself. Shit. He needed the coaching too. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m Simon Chevalier. I’m—“

  “—the owner of the Faire,” she said faintly. “I’m L-Katie Cooper.” She stammered when she told him her name.

  Great, he was making her even more nervous.

  “Thank you for your offer, Mr. Chevalier—“

  “Simon, please.”

  “Thank you, Simon, but I don’t really have qualifications to help you with that. And besides, I’m really happy working at Staff Childcare.”

  Dark roasted coffee beans. That was the shade of her eye color. And somehow, he didn’t think she was bargaining with him. Someone haggling wouldn’t highlight a lack of credentials. That only made him even more intent on getting her.

  “Maybe we can work out something so that it’s only a few hours each day, so you can look at this as supplemental to your hours at Staff Childcare.” Simon mulled it over. That was actually even better. It wasn’t like he was looking to have her on-site 24/7, that would be too risky. One of the guys might accidentally shift in front of her.

  She looked like she was about to open her mouth to say no, so he quickly interjected. “And I’ll triple whatever you’re being paid for Staff Childcare.”

  She clamped her mouth shut, her brow furrowing in thought.

  “Just a few hours a day, in addition to my job at Staff Childcare?”

  “Yes, most likely in the afternoons or evenings. And you can always confirm if the times work for you to help with the boys.”

  Simon watched as some kind of debate worked itself out in her expression. Like she was struggling to come up with a reason to say no, but wasn’t finding any. And she was looking hard.

  Hell, she could even ask for quadruple pay. He’d make a note with Rika to ensure that she was treated well.

  And finally she stopped looking.

  “I’ll do it. And thank you.”

  They both turned at the noise level where the boys were. Aylwyn was now seated on top of the table, with Merek and Barric, both still sitting, tilting the table to dislodge him. Or doing something that involved the sound of metal clanging against the floor, and possibly the destruction of heavy-duty furniture. With lots of shouts and laughter. One of them –maybe Tybalt -- released a loud belch.

  Simon turned back to look at his newest hire’s eyes.

  “How soon can you start?”

  Chapter Ten

  Cadmus stifled a groan as he entered into the store to pick up his ritual supplies. Today’s musical selection featured an ethereal woman’s voice, floating over waves of synthesized sounds. It was acceptable, and much preferable to the New Age pee-inducing soundtrack that had been playing the day before. Shame the lavender draperies and dreamcatchers were still in evidence, but as long as Cadmus could escape hearing “costumed cats” and “tarot” in the same sentence one more time, there would be one less homicide happening in the next 60 minutes.

  He was already cranky, still out of sorts with the magickal equivalent of jet lag or altitude sickness—whatever it was — still plaguing him, one week in. It irked him that he was still acclimating, and unable to predict how long it would take to get over this.

  It wasn’t like this the last time he was here, although granted he was younger, much more vibrant then. And even though his magicks had kept him in superb physical health, slowing down the aging that afflicted mere mortals, he feared that Micah’s continual digs at his impending obsolescence might be more on target than he cared to admit. He worried that the adverse effects of the energy vortex on him was a sign of that.

  Hopefully finding that man-wolf would insulate against a forced retirement.

  Resting Witch Face wasn’t in, and he wasn’t about to ask where she was. Instead, a bored millennial with purple hair and facial piercings sat at the counter, behind a sign saying “We hex shoplifters” and a plexiglass holder with the CD jewel case of Love is Colder Than Death, identifying the artist playing. He —or she, it was getting increasingly hard to tell these days—was reading a dogeared paperback titled Monsters, Magic & Mayhem by John G. Hartness. It had to be fiction, since Cadmus didn’t recognize any magickal scholars by that name, and he had read them all.

  “I’m here to pick up—”

  “Here.” The millennial handed him a small purple foil shopping bag without looking up from the book. Cadmus snatched it away from the genderless person and broke apart the frilly silver bow that tied the handles closed.

  Inside was more frippery, a package wrapped up in frilly tissue paper and a card advertising Resting Witch Face’s Soulmate Finder Readings. He hurled the card onto the floor as the millennial turned a page in the book she-he-it was engrossed in.

  At last. Cadmus uncovered the ingredients he had asked for, breathing in their fragrance. Yes, they were all there. At least Resting Witch Face got that right. As well as the idea to use the root cellar of his rental house. He left the store hurriedly, hoping that the bells on the door jangled noisily enough
to give that millennial a seizure.

  His next stop would be a store where he could buy the necessary furnishings for his root cellar. Since he had determined that it was suitable for ritual work, there was no reason not to make it as comfortable as possible. Unlike the abandoned mine shaft that was last used—

  Oh, shit!

  Cadmus stopped short on the street, earning an expletive from the woman who barely avoided running into him. She flashed a middle finger at him, which Cadmus ignored as the thoughts swirled in his head.

  He couldn’t remember Billy Bob picking up the tranq dart cartridges after the man-wolf was shot. Cadmus had had the presence of mind to do a blanking spell once the creature escaped, but it was rudimentary at best, with the few ingredients he had brought. And even worse, with the strange affliction on his senses, it was unpredictable how long or how far the effects of that spell were.

  But he did know it would not get rid of physical objects such as the cartridges. And if the man-wolf were to look for them…

  All right. He’d have to go back, or send Billy Bob to retrieve them. And he may as well kill two birds with one stone, and pick up another offering or two for His Terrible Majesty in the meantime. He pulled the mobile phone from his pocket —the latest model that Micah had insisted they all use—and used it for the only feature he cared about.

  He called Billy Bob.

  “We going hunting, Boss?” The idiot’s voice came through crystal clear.

  Cadmus gave Billy Bob his instructions. He enunciated every word, and then repeated them for good measure.

  When he was finally satisfied that the brain-damaged moron understood what was being asked, he hung up. And then he went in search of sharp implements and stainless steel furniture. Aside from the aesthetics of sleek minimalism, the polished metal surfaces would make it easy to clean off viscera and blood.