Except he’d also sounded like he couldn’t wait to get off the phone. Like talking to her was a freaking chore he had to cross off his to-do list. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the path to a permanent blow-off. Kind of a classier “don’t call us, we’ll call you” which was only a step away from ghosting. Was it because she wasn’t able to stay and help with the hiker that Billy Bob had procured? Cadmus had been so lavish with his praise of that escapee from The Hills Have Eyes.
And didn’t that just give her an idea. The inspiration coursed through her like a jolt of electricity, shaking her out of her stupor. Her lip curled even more from its permasneer. Anything Billy Bob could do, she could do better! She’d procure someone herself. She was planning to, anyway, when she took the filled tranquilizer dart cartridges from Cadmus’ root cellar. But she’d do it on the soonish side. In fact…
Her eyes lit on one of the actors, who’d been not-so-stealthily staring at her boobs while literally licking his lips. Around the same age as that hiker, and fit enough, even though she avoided looking at him as much as possible. Best of all, he really wouldn’t be missed.
Yes, Cadmus would be pleased.
If Cadmus didn’t want to strangle Micah before, he did now. After a drive for a quick look-see in one of the wooded areas that Cadmus was looking at, they were now in the downtown area of Gardendale, deciding on a restaurant to have their late lunch.
Micah was practically vibrating with energy and excitement. It just figured that while Cadmus was still feeling overwhelmed with the potency of the area’s energies, the younger man was reacting as if he were a tuning fork instead. Cadmus was feeling exhausted with the stress of not only trying to keep up, but hiding the fact that he was having difficulty doing so.
Plus Micah was fucking grating on his nerves to begin with.
“HTM is gonna love this town,” Micah exclaimed. What a pair they made, walking down the street. Cadmus in the hateful garments made out of garbage, and Micah in whatever passed for fashion among the youth of today. Complete with the medallions gifted by HTM.
They were approaching the shop where Cadmus was sure that Resting Witch Face would jump out of any moment, and snare Cadmus with a dreamcatcher. Or worse, Micah would insist on going in.
Just a few more steps, and they would walk right by. Left, right, left—
“What do we have here?”
Shit.
Micah had stopped right in front of the shop. Please, Infernal Gods, by all that is unholy, don’t make me have to go in—
But Micah was pointing at a large poster in the shop window. Before Cadmus could offer up a prayer of thanks, his jaw dropped. Wait a second, Micah couldn’t possibly be interested in that dreadful woman’s tarot readings—
“What’s this Gardendale Medieval Faire?” Micah asked.
There were so many signs for The Excuse for People to Act Stupid and Speak in What Passed for Medieval English, that Cadmus had grown inured to it. But leave it to Micah to hone in on something so cheesy.
The only cheese that Cadmus was interested in was fromage, and this Faire was the equivalent of something you sprayed out of a can. So of course Micah was fascinated.
“I’m fascinated,” said Micah. Cadmus coughed, to hide his eyes rolling. But another reason to keep Micah away from the Faire was to avoid his meeting Jordy. He needed to quickly think of some way to convince Micah it was a bad idea.
“That’s a great idea.” Cadmus said, seeing Micah’s grin. “But apparently it’s an all day thing. We should start out earlier in the day. With all sorts of activities like—” He scrabbled around in his brain. What did fools do at these types of places? Oh, he thought of something. “Tarot readings, by their version of a Medieval soothsayer. That would be pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”
Micah laughed. “Yeah, it would. But good point on going for a day, if we were to go at all. I bet there’s a lot to see and do, and if nothing else it’s good for a laugh.”
Cadmus sighed with relief, inwardly. Reverse psychology was definitely a way to go with people like Micah. They always expected pushback, as another opportunity to prove how right they were. They were disarmed when you made them feel that they were right from the get-go, no matter how much it made you want to throw up.
Cadmus would just keep coming up with things for them to do in the mornings until Micah ran out of mornings, and was summoned to slither back by His Terrible Majesty’s side.
Chapter Eighteen
“Ooh, Simon! And Miller!” TraceyAnn warbled as the two walked into the Childcare Center.
Lily looked up just in time to see Miller go stone faced. She admired how Miller was always polite, although reserved, with TraceyAnn’s obvious flirtation. Simon was flustered, clearly uncomfortable with her fawning over him. The two men spotted Lily and looked both relieved and happy to see her.
In a coordinated fashion, Miller separated from Simon and went off to distract TraceyAnn, while Simon came over to Lily. He tossed her a set of keys and a plastic card.
“What’s this?” Lily caught them easily, but was flummoxed. Simon grinned at her.
“Miller told me about your car situation. You should be able to come and go between the Faire and the house, since you insist on working here.” He looked over at TraceyAnn and Miller and gave a laugh. “Look at Miller, taking one for the team.”
Lily had to cover her hand with her mouth to hide her laugh. TraceyAnn was leaning forward, desperately trying to get Miller to look at her cleavage, and he was politely but stubbornly looking her right in the eye. He hadn’t cracked a smile, either. He wasn’t leading TraceyAnn on in the slightest, not that TraceyAnn needed any help in interpreting things the way she wanted to see them.
“Anyway, uh, this is one of the more basic cars that we have, so don’t worry about it. It’s already banged up from when the boys were first learning to drive.” Simon rolled his eyes at the memory, but his voice was filled with amusement. “And this is a prepaid gas card, so you can keep the tank full. Let Rika know if you have need a new one.”
Lily was speechless with astonishment. It was like trading spaces with Simon, who was normally tongue-tied around her. So it was a big improvement for him. Maybe she was having a positive effect after all.
“It’s, uh, tagged so you can’t just take off with it and end up in Mexico or something.” He gave an awkward laugh, but Lily was thrilled. Simon made a joke around her! She caught Miller’s eye, and he winked at her.
Simon continued, “And if you need anything involving the car, find our head of ops, Puma, and he’ll get it done. He knows you’re working with me.”
Irony of ironies. She had a car, but couldn’t use it to leave. And the trust that Simon had in her was filling her with all kinds of guilt that she would be leaving soon. After the time that she had gotten to spend with him, she had pretty much pegged him as someone who didn’t trust easily.
For one thing, there was never anyone else with him at the house when she was there, besides Miller and the five boys. For someone so wealthy you’d expect tons of helpers and assistants. But their security was rigged so they couldn’t even get a delivery from Domino’s without it being a major production. She chalked it up to his eccentricity. And it was another thing that she felt guilty about. He had rolled out a red carpet for her into his small, carefully contained universe, when people like TraceyAnn were scrambling to get his attention. She couldn’t help but feel affectionate towards him, along with the guilt.
She smiled at him, and tilted her chin towards the display outside the window. “Any chance I could get the keys to one of those instead?”
Simon jerked his head, and realized she was referring to the sports cars that he had as part of the outdoor exhibit.
“Uh, sure I guess, I mean technically Puma has the keys on him on the key ring that he carries—”
“I’m joking,” she said gently, and he flushed. “I’m really grateful for the loan of any car, and you’re more than genero
us with the gas card.”
“Oh, uh. Oh.” Simon was back to his tongue-tied self. But, baby steps. She’d work on that with him, and maybe before long he could even be as comfortable talking with people as Aylwyn.
She suddenly saw a small missile launch itself at her. It was Brady, running over and immediately clinging to Lily’s skirt. The little boy was crying, and buried his head in its voluminous folds. Simon took a huge step back, as if Brady were a snarling, three headed dog. Lily took note of that, but her immediate concern was the child weeping in her skirts.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Lily reached down and ruffled the little boy’s hair.
He looked up with his tear filled face and pointed a finger at one of the older kids, Alfonso.
“He said that he’s the Big Bad Wolf and he’s going to eat me!”
Clover came over, clearly concerned about her twin. Lily gently lowered herself so she was at eye level with both kids.
“Listen to me, ” she said in a calm voice. She noticed that Simon was standing back, but watching her with the kids. “Do you remember the story of the Big Bad Wolf and the Three Little Pigs?”
“Yes!” Clover announced proudly, her brother echoing it between sobs a second later.
“What did the Big Bad Wolf do in that story?”
Clover had the answer. “He blowed and he blowed!”
“No, silly,” her brother’s tears stopped in his rush to correct her. “He huffenpuffed. And then he blowed the house down!”
“Yes, that’s right!” Lily said. “And do you think if Alfonso huffed and puffed, he could blow you down?”
“No!” Clover giggled, and even Brady started to laugh at that.
“So if anyone tells you they’re the Big Bad Wolf, you can tell them to Huff and Puff all they want!”
The two twins started laughing with glee, blowing at each other.
“We want to be big bad wolfs,” said Brady.
“Well, better get practicing those huffs and puffs, then!” Lily laughed, and the two twins ran off. She turned to Simon.
There was a strange look on his face. She raised an eyebrow.
“I like your version of the story,” he said.
She smiled. It was an odd thing to say, but he was getting better at talking to her, so it was all good.
Jordy wanted to throw up a little, but she forced the gorge back down and pasted a wide smile on her face. Lord Cypher, really a scrawny kid named Noah Folger from some tiny buttfuck of a town in Florida, was looking at her with a “‘bout time you succumbed to my charms’ expression. Which he had doubtlessly spent countless hours perfecting in a bathroom mirror. Jordy’s internal viewscreen displayed the designation: LOSER.
She was looking straight at a bad case of the Napoleon complex, made worse with a severe overlay of Know-it-all-itus: a small guy among the Faire’s he-men and Viking cosplayers who stood only about five or six inches taller than Jordy. So he tried to over compensate for it by creating the persona of someone he thought was a lot more interesting, who spoke with wisdom and gravitas, who everyone revered and obeyed. Enter Lord Cypher, and his billowy shirts that were open to reveal the five curling hairs on his chest, the tight leather breeches, and damascus bladed knife that he kept in a scabbard hanging from his leather tooled belt. He walked as if invisible fans were blowing his scraggly, shoulder length hair, and matching scraggly hairs on his chin, like he studied the cover of a bodice ripper for inspiration.
In other words, he was a legend in his own mind.
He was perfect.
“Hey Cyph” Jordy said, pretending that she didn’t want to keel over and die.
“So I heardst about thine promotion,” he said. “Methinks congratulations be in order.”
“Oh yeah, thanks.” She swallowed. “I was hoping…I was hoping you would want to celebrate with me?”
He perked up. Even his shirt appeared to billow out more. Those five chest hairs seem to stand at attention. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of them. It was like coming across something once furry, decaying in the wild, except a lot less cool.
“Totally—I mean, verily, it wouldst be mine honor.”
It was a Herculean effort, but Jordy kept her eyeballs in place. Otherwise they’d be rolling up like venetian blinds during the daytime.
“Awesome! I was thinking maybe after midnight, when my shift ends.“ Jordy batted her eyelashes.
She was counting on the fact that as he was one of the Faire “entertainers” basically paid a daily fee to stay in character as they wandered about the Faire interacting with the attendees, “Lord Cypher” could make his own hours. And like other costumed characters, no brows would be raised if he just upped and left. Many such character-performers went from faire to faire throughout the year. Some quietly ghosted when the life of an itinerant Faire worker wasn’t doing it for them anymore.
Not to mention “Lord Cypher” didn’t have friends that would miss him, big surprise.
“Verily that wouldst be my honor!”
Could eyeballs explode from the strain of keeping them from rolling? Jordy was afraid she was about to find out.
“Do you still have your car?” She let slip a little bit of the Southern accent from one of her resident stops as an army brat, to bait the trap even more.
“Mine chariot is at thine service, fair lady!”
“Great.” She gave him a location to meet her, far from where anyone would notice them - or remember that Jordy was the last person to be seen with him alive.
Chapter Nineteen
“The food here is quite good, don’t you think?” Cadmus hated having to make nice with Micah, but as the younger man kept reminding him, with his HTM this and HTM that every other sentence, he’d be reporting to His Terrible Majesty on what he thought of this location. And Cadmus in this location.
Cadmus had been grinding his molars down to the root, with the strain of keeping up a “Problems acclimating to the potent energy here? Nosirree, not me!” facade. Not to mention trying to keep up with Micah in general.
Micah had been peppering Cadmus with all sorts of questions about the area, questions to which Cadmus had to figure out a way to answer without opening himself up for criticism in any way.
It was hard to come up with more spins for “I don’t know.” He’d been frustrated that all the parcels of land that had the most potent energy emanating from it seemed to belong to mysterious owners who wanted to be hidden. Company names for which little information existed. The only lead he had was that there was only one realtor he had come across who seemed to know more than the others. Not that he was forthcoming. Like the others, he immediately tried to interest Cadmus in sites that were entirely unsuitable, or were only weak echoes of the properties Cadmus wanted.
But there was enough of Cadmus’s intuition coming through the magickal jet lag to let him know that the man was holding something back. This…Blake Rickert. Perhaps he would be more receptive to….other persuasive techniques.
His phone vibrated, mercifully interrupting whatever Micah was spouting off in answer to Cadmus’s attempt at civility.
“Do excuse me,” Cadmus said to Micah. He normally abhorred the use of phones during a meal, but he would make an exception because it was a meal with Micah.
And wonder of wonders. The name that popped up on the screen was the very one that he had been thinking. Blake Rickert. Maybe his magicks were rebounding after all.
“Hello, Mr. Rickert?” Cadmus spoke, with a sorry-not-sorry eyebrow raise at the other man. Micah shrugged, pulling out his own phone, which had an obnoxious case on it made out of —knowing Micah’s horrible taste—real diamonds. Cadmus looked away as the realtor’s voice came through.
“Yes, hello. If you’re still interested in those properties you were inquiring about, we can talk about it further, but I’d need for you to come in and sign some non-disclosures and other standard paperwork.”
A thrill went through Cadmus. He was right. This realtor d
id know more. And was offering the information up.
“How marvelous. Yes, of course I can do that.”
“Could you come in this afternoon?”
He felt Micah’s eyes on him. If he said yes, Micah might insist on coming along. When was the wretch going to leave, anyway?
“Later this week would be better for me.” Cadmus said smoothly.
“Well, I—of course, would you like to set a ti—” Cadmus pressed END, cutting off the realtor. He’d pop in the minute Micah left.
“What was that?” the younger man asked, his eyes narrowed.
“Part of the research I’m doing,” Cadmus said airily. “Getting background information on the property ownership history, things like that. No need to concern yourself with, as your time would be better spend just looking at properties firsthand.”
Micah was silent, and Cadmus held his breath. Would he buy it?
“Yeah, that sort of thing sounds like your bag, Cad-man.” Micah said, dismissively. Cadmus slowly let a breath of relief.
“So if you’re ready, let’s get the bill and venture on to another location?” Cadmus asked. At Micah’s nod, he summoned a waiter.
And readied himself for more of Micah’s odious company.
The sun had sunk low in the horizon, and the night air was growing chilly. Katie Cooper stood in the living room, laughing at something the fool Aylwyn had just said.
Col clenched his teeth as an unfamiliar emotion burned through his gut. Jealousy. The feeling was worse than the worst wound he had ever been afflicted with. It reared its dragon-like head each time she smiled upon one of his Bredhren, which was often. Col wanted to bloody each of them, even his Vixar, who had a visage that Katie Cooper obviously found pleasing. Or Aylwyn, whose wenching ways she seemed to gravitate towards. He wanted to tear into them both, pummeling them into oblivion for the mere audacity of being attractive to her.
Which was the exact opposite of what he should be feeling, doing. He was Tybalt’s Secaris. He needed to help his Vixar forge these five into a cohesive, War-Pack for the coming battles. And here he was, adding to the very dissension that needed to be healed.
Col: His Destined Mate Page 14