The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4)

by Kate Karyus Quinn

  Hepa plants her hands on her hips and waits until Nico sighs and turns his previous order into a question. While the two of them are distracted with their face-off, I tuck my clothes and Thunderstick back into my bag.

  “Hepa, will you please show Paige the other magical marvels you’ve prepared for her?” He goes way over the top, using a mockingly polite tone.

  I guess it’s good enough for Hepa, though, because she flips Nico the bird and then pulls a pretty clip from her own hair and hands it to me. It’s a simple banana clip with a gold-covered miniature tree branch atop it.

  “Goes with my boho look,” I observe.

  “Yeah, that was my number one concern,” is Hepa’s sarcastic response. She takes the hair clip back from me and closes her fist around it. “You just hold it and say the magic spell.”

  “Cool,” I say, thinking how much my eight-year-old self would’ve loved this.

  “Yeah, sure.” Hepa rolls her eyes, then adds, “Here’s the spell, My way is blocked, you must unlock. I have no key, but this door likes me.”

  I repeat it after here a few times, to help commit it to memory, and then hold my hand out for the hair clip. “I think I got it. The rhyme helps. Are all your spells like that?”

  “No, just the ones we make for dumb humans,” Hepa answers.

  “Don’t go sneaking around unless something strikes you as fishy,” Nico cautions me.

  “One last thing,” Hepa says and then disappears into the supply closet. A moment later she re-emerges with one of my brooms.

  “Something for self-defense?” I guess.

  This earns me an eyeroll. “I’m a witch. This is a broom. Guess again.”

  I stare, wondering if Hepa is implying what I think she is. “It flies?”

  “Oh good, I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you,” Hepa hands the broom to me.

  A guffaw escapes me, but then quickly dies. I narrow my eyes. “You guys are being too good to me with the puns. Do you know something I don’t about this cult? Am I walking into my death? Is this how you get rid of me?” I ask, making eye contact with Nico. He just smiles in his usual perfect, charming, distracting, and completely infuriating way.

  “Yes, the broom flies,” Hepa says, bringing us back to the point. “But only once and not for any long distance. A half mile, maybe a little farther. It’s meant for a fast escape if you’re in a tight spot and nothing else.”

  “That’s cool,” I say, “but…won’t people think it’s strange I’m bringing a broom with me to a sex cult?”

  “Um, hello, any and all kinks are welcome,” Hepa says, her patience for my stupidity coming to an end. “It’s a sex cult, and you’re a cleaning lady. Need me to explain why you’re so attached to your broom?”

  “For your information,” Nico chimes in, “She doesn’t need the broom for that purpose. I happen to know that Paige just dropped some money on a high end vibrat—”

  “It’s for masturbation, got it,” I say, snatching the broom from Hepa.

  “Just to be clear,” she says with a curt nod, “I wouldn’t actually put that near your vagina unless you need to escape. It’s spelled to respond to high intensity situations, and you wouldn’t want to blast off during—”

  “Don’t you need to leave, or something?” I ask Hepa, who makes a show of checking her watch.

  “Yep, gotta run,” she agrees.

  That’s one smartass supe out of my life.

  Nico, though, is still in front of me. “I don’t care how you sell the broom thing,” He tells me, looking stern. “Just keep it close. I don’t want you stuck there if things get hot.”

  This is a little worrisome. “Do you know something you aren’t telling me? I thought these people were harmless sex fiends?”

  “I want to be prepared for the worst,” Nico answers. “Just in case. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I say quietly, thinking of Liam. I swallow hard and take a step back from Nico. “I gotta run out quickly, but I’ll be back in time to leave at noon.”

  Nico frowns. “Shit is not riding in my car. It’s a two-seater and the leather seats...” He looks pained to say it, but I know his car is like his baby. But too bad. Shit is mine.

  “If Shit doesn’t go, I don’t go,” I shoot back. Pointing to Shit, I add, “Stay. Be good for Nico until Mommy gets back.”

  “Paige,” Nico says, a warning in his voice. But following Hepa’s example, I exit like the powerful witch I am.

  8

  I walk to the donut shop, my Birkenstocks slapping on the pavement. Maybe I’m not actually a powerful witch, but I am a powerful bitch and that’s just as good. My hippie skirts flow around my legs and I’m starting to really like my new fashion choices. Until a woman passes with her toddler and the little girl laughs at me and asks why I’m wearing a sheet for a skirt and that brings me back down to earth.

  Through the Dickie’s Donuts window I see McGinnis is already seated at our regular booth, the corner one out of the way. His bad foot is propped on a chair at the end of the table. He broke it the night VSK kidnapped him, and it’s never been the same since. His most recent surgery is meant to repair the damage for good, but McGinnis might have to use a cane for the rest of his life.

  He’s scrolling through his phone, waiting for me, and has already ordered me a jelly donut and a coffee. As he looks up and waves to me, I can’t help but smile. The dad vibes are strong in this one.

  I head inside, throwing my boho shoulder bag onto the seat and sliding in.

  “Hey Kiddo, you look...different. Is this your spa look?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

  “I’m just trying something new,” I tell him, taking a bit of the donut and catching the jelly with my napkin as it squishes out. He chuckles.

  “You know, I am a detective,” he says. “But I won’t pry.” He adjusts his foot with a grimace, trying to get comfortable. McGinnis had some boundary issues earlier in our relationship, but I think we’ve come to an understanding. As much as I wish my dad were here with me, McGinnis is not him.

  I take a swig of coffee. “How are you?” I ask, glancing at his foot.

  “Oh, good. Good,” he repeats, though his face says he’s anything but. “I have physical therapy twice a week. My PT says everything is...good,” he finishes lamely.

  “That is a lot of goods,” I say.

  He shrugs and his face loses its smile. “VSK came to your house again?” he asks.

  I nod. “He’s been so quiet, for months.” I pull my bag onto the table and spill out the contents of plastic bags. The glove and the blood sample from my porch. “Why now?”

  McGinnis picks them up, examines them. “Why now indeed?”

  He looks me up and down. “Something’s changed, other than the way you dress. You’re going to a spa out of town?”

  “Yeah,” I blush a little at the lie.

  “VSK must be aware that you’re leaving. And he doesn’t like it.” He folds his arms.

  “But I barely told anyone. Maybe five people know,” I tell him.

  “You texted me, Paige. Your phone could be hacked.”

  “Shit.” I had my phone checked for spyware before, but not recently. McGinnis holds out his hand and I hand it over.

  “Let me see if there are any hidden apps…” He pulls out his reading glasses and looks down his nose at the phone. It’s so adorably dad-like. While he’s fiddling with my phone I finish off my donut. Today I’ve basically eaten donuts and coffee, but it’s the fuel I need. Sugar and caffeine for the win.

  McGinnis pulls off his glasses and hands me back my phone. “It looks good to me. Do you want me to take it in to the tech geeks?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. I’ll have my IT person take a look.” I’ll have Hepa do some kind of witchy spell to rid me of malware.

  “This glove is a huge break, though,” McGinnis tells me. “It might just be what we need to catch the bastard!”

&nbs
p; “Maybe this will help too,” I say, pulling out my phone and the pictures I’ve already texted to him.

  “I don’t really know if we can get a handwriting analysis when he’s probably just smearing blood around with his finger—…”

  “No!” I shove the phone at him. “VSK used the wrong you’re. He’s clearly not very smart, or maybe he’s a high school dropout…”

  McGinnis looks doubtful. “Paige, not everyone cares about grammar as much as you do. I didn’t even notice it was wrong,” he admits.

  Oh crap. I hadn’t meant to be a snobby English Major bitch. “You’re right,” I tell him. “It’s a stupid mistake that anyone could make.”

  I deflate back into the booth bench. “I just want this to be over. And not have it affect anyone else. My housemates. You. Liam…” I trail off.

  “Well, don’t worry about me,” McGinnis says. “I got away.” He slaps his bad leg. “I just wish I had seen something that could help.” McGinnis was drugged and woke up in a fog in the back of a truck...or van... or car. He doesn’t even know—he was pretty out of it. He managed to jump out of the vehicle and break his foot. Luckily a passerby picked him up, but by the time he could call me, it was already too late for Liam.

  “I’ll get these to the lab right away,” he says, grabbing the bags and putting them next to him on the seat. He’s being kind, clearly understanding that it bugs me having them within eyesight. “Did you hear your friend Eva Esposito made detective?”

  “I did!” I say. Eva and I celebrated with a crazy, drunken night clubbing, then she went home with a llama shifter, which I didn't even know was a thing. And I went home to my sad lonely empty bed…

  “She’s bright, that one. I got her put on the VSK case as a junior detective. It’s not a lot of prestige but I think it will be good for her.” Supe cases are the lowest of the low, so it’s actually not a great place for Eva to start out, but McGinnis is trying to help.

  I already knew all this from Eva, but I let him talk. His whole life has been working as a cop, and now he’s on administrative leave. His foot being busted is only half of it—they have him going to therapy about the abduction as well, even though he can barely remember any of it.

  Eva thinks McGinnis is a bit of a sad loser, but I shut that talk right the hell down. McGinnis has helped me tons of times. After I told Eva off, I thought she’d be mad at me but she just told me that she was glad to be friends with someone as loyal as I am.

  “I’ve gotta run,” I tell him. “My ride is leaving soon.”

  “Are you going to the spa with someone?” he asks, his eyebrows creeping toward the ceiling.

  “No!” I hurriedly explain. “I’m going by myself. One hundred percent. No one is coming with me. I’m just getting a ride from Nico.”

  McGinnis lets out a growl. “You can’t trust that mangy werewolf.”

  “You are preaching to the choir,” I assure him.

  “Okay, Kiddo.” McGinnis tilts his head up to me. “Stay safe.”

  “Of course,” I tell him as I grab my bag. “I’ve had enough drama; all I want is a quiet weekend away.”

  As I give McGinnis a final wave, I realize it’s not a lie. I do want a quiet weekend. I’ve got a feeling, though, that a sex cult is not the best place to get that.

  9

  I feel much better after meeting with McGinnis. If he can pull DNA or prints off the glove, maybe by the time I return VSK will be behind bars. And Brent will have given Giselle an STD. And Darron will have found someone that accepts his true self. And Shauna will be content. And Liam will see me again…

  Okay, that last one is maybe too long of a long shot. But a girl can dream.

  Speaking of dreams that don’t work out...Jax pulls into the office parking lot as I’m crossing through it on my way back.

  My ex-husband has been less of a douchebag since he got a serious girlfriend—a witch named Kimmy—but I’m still not thrilled to see him. Even worse, he has it in his head that we are friends now, which I’m not really sure I’m up for. I’d rather we stay more in the distant acquaintances category.

  “There’s my girl!” Jax exclaims, bounding from his car. And that right there is exactly why.

  “I’m not your girl,” I remind him.

  He goes in for the hug, ignoring my ‘stay back’ body language. “You’ll always be my girl, Paige.”

  I believe setting boundaries is important. So reaching between us I grab hold of Jax’s balls...and squeeze. “I am not your ANYTHING,” I tell him between clenched teeth.

  “Okay!” he yelps.

  I smile sweetly. “And you’ll always be the guy I will not hesitate to castrate if he pisses me off.” I release Jax and he quickly takes a hop back out of my reach.

  Hoping we’re done, I head to the office. Unfortunately, Jax isn’t easily discouraged and he follows behind.

  “Love the new look, Paige! Are you going to a costume party? If you have a second, I actually got a great opportunity for you,” he says.

  “No,” I tell him as I open the door.

  “But…”

  “No,” I tell him again as I gather my stuff off the floor and shove it back into my bags. Maybe Hepa was right and I have too much crap. I consolidate a few things into the smaller back. I guess it’s time to embrace the hippy lifestyle.

  Nico, leaning against his desk with Shit at his feet, looks down at his watch. “We gotta get on the road and we gotta figure something out for this dog, because there’s no way he’s going in my car.”

  “Don’t be such a baby,” I tell Nico. “Just put a towel down or something.”

  “Nico,” Jax says, holding out his fist for a bump. “You may want to get in on this deal too.”

  “No,” Nico says, pushing Jax aside and crossing to me. “I’m not having only a towel between that Dalmanther and Italian leather seats.”

  “You gave me Shit,” I remind him. “To keep me safe. I thought you loved him, actually.”

  “Okay, fine, but he’s still a destructive puppy. And yes, I…” Nico balks at the word love and I can’t help but be amused. “I am very fond of your Dalmanther,” he admits. “But I don’t know if…”

  “I’m not asking you to marry him,” I say. “Look, he can sit on my lap.”

  “The whole way?” he raises an eyebrow.

  “Hey!” Jax yells, giving up on the subtle approach. “C’mon guys, stop ignoring me. I just need five hundred bucks and you’ll make it back five times over.”

  “Jax.” I turn to my ex-husband, amazed even after all these years at his lack of shame. “We know you want money, that’s why we’re ignoring you.”

  “Paige, please,” his eyes grow large and pleading. “I’m gonna make it all back and then some this weekend at Charms. There’s a huge poker party. But I gotta have enough for the buy in.”

  I look at Nico and he shakes his head. “That’s the opposite of a good investment.”

  “Okay, okay,” Jax’s head falls and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I understand. I just thought you might do it, not for me, but for Kimmy…”

  I roll my eyes at this act. “I doubt Kimmy is relying on your betting income.”

  “Of course not,” Jax confirms. “She takes care of me. That’s why I want to buy something special for her.”

  I snort. “Special like what? An engagement ring?”

  Jax’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yes! Exactly! How did you know?”

  “What?” I nearly choke on the word as my mind races. Jax and Kimmy haven’t even been together a year. Even though Jax and I have been divorced for longer than we were married, he always swore that he’d forever try to win me back. Not that I ever wanted him to succeed...but I liked having him try. I liked having him in my back pocket. But now he wants to marry Kimmy. Just like Brent married Giselle.

  All I ever wanted was a normal life. Now my ex-husband is proposing to his girlfriend while I’m heading off to a supernatural sex cult.

  “I’ll g
ive you the money,” Nico says suddenly. “In return I need you to give Paige and Shit a ride right now.”

  “Paige and Shit?” Jax repeats.

  “Both,” Nico confirms.

  Jax considers this a moment. “Well, I’m sure Kimmy wouldn’t mind about Paige, I mean, she even told me that if she were ever to be interested in a three-way, you’re her first call... But Shit...IDK. I don’t think he even likes me.” Taking a few steps in Shit’s direction, Jax holds out his hand. Shit gives a low warning growl, telling Jax to keep his distance.

  “See, I can’t even get close to him,” Jax patiently explains to a confused Nico. “And my dick is pretty long—I’m sure Paige has told you—but—”

  “Oh my god, Jax,” I burst out. “He means a ride in your car!”

  “Ooooh,” Jax says, ruffling his hair. “Well, I guess if I put the seats down that could work. So what are the mechanics? Paige gets the ride while Shit watches?”

  I turn to Nico. “Help me here.”

  Nico just smirks and gives me a helpless shrug. “You married the guy.”

  Yeah, I did. And it’s yet another reason I picked the Thunderstick with its lifetime warranty. It might be the one relationship I’m capable of sustaining.

  “Why is this even a question?” I snap, my sudden irritation with every man in my life hitting a sore spot. “Nico, I thought you were driving me.”

  “I was,” Nico says. “But then Jax showed up and I thought I’d take the opportunity. We know there is some level of security at the drop off point for new members, and the supe community is smaller than you think. If you’re seen with me you’re boned. Or I guess, you won’t be boned.”

  I look around the office. “You realize that a quick Google search will show that you and I share an office?”

  “I had Hepa take care of that. Even though our work address is the same, anyone who sees it will not remember. Someone could literally look me up, write down the address, then look you up and write down that address, not realizing they are the same.” I note his stress of literally, letting me know he’s using it correctly.