Unholy Pleasures (Half-breed Series Book 4)

by Debra Dunbar

  She hesitated, biting her lip.

  “You’re going to be surrounded by humans for the rest of your life,” I told her. “We outnumber you. There might be an elf or two down the road for you to have an occasional beer with, but most of your days are going to be spent with humans. It’s about time you started trusting at least a few of us. And, who else would be better to help you in adapting to life here besides humans? Do you seriously think the angels know what the heck they’re doing? Or the other elves? If you need to figure out how to work the toaster or buy a plane ticket online, or play Candy Crush on your phone, you’re going to need to start making human friends. Or at least human acquaintances.”

  “I’m afraid to touch the toaster,” she confessed. “It’s metal, and even when I put on gloves, I’m too scared to go near it.”

  “Well, maybe the toaster later. Right now tell me why you’re here when you clearly can’t do the job you were hired to do? I’m not trying to get you fired or anything, I just can’t understand how with an island full of elves, someone thought you were the one to heal a diseased vineyard.”

  She sighed and plopped down in the dirt beside me, picking at the sorrel that was beginning to pop up along the pathway. “I didn’t know what kind of job I was being sent for. If I had known it was this, I would have passed and waited for another opportunity.” She looked up at me and shook her head. “Actually that’s a lie. I would have taken any job to get off that island. When you pay the placement fee and agree to the contract, you do whatever the Jobber wants you to do, whether you have the skills or not.”

  “Jobber? Who is this Jobber?”

  “They’re going to fire me,” Hallwyn’s voice cracked. “If I can’t heal this vineyard and lose my job, I’ll be in violation of the contract. They’ll send me back to Elf Island or worse. I’ll never be able to pay the Jobber back. Actually, he’ll offer to clear my debt if I…but I can’t do that. Although I’ll have to do that because I can’t pay him back without employment.”

  She was bordering on hysterics. I sat quietly and waited for her to work through her strange disjointed monologue. Finally, she wiped away her tears and looked up at me once more.

  “I knew someone was healing the plants. It wasn’t the chemicals, and it wasn’t me. I thought maybe one of the elves working on a neighboring farm had taken pity on me and was coming over in the evening hours to help, but they all have problems of their own. That’s why I was here early, to try to heal what I could, but also so I could catch whoever was helping and beg them for additional assistance.”

  Why did I feel like one of the shoemaker’s elves all of a sudden? “It was me, but I don’t have enough energy to do more than a little bit here and there.”

  She nodded. “I’ll tell you what’s going on if you keep healing the plants and if you help me learn how to do it. I can’t lose my job here, I just can’t.”

  I was going to heal the plants anyway, but she didn’t have to know that. “So we’re friends?”

  I got a side-eye for that. “No, we’re not friends. But if you help me out, I’ll answer your questions.”

  It was as good of a deal as I was going to get. “Okay. Tell me about this Jobber first.”

  “There is someone that we call the Jobber. I assume he’s human, but I don’t really know because no one has ever seen him. He sends a list of jobs to the angels running Elf Island. This Jobber goes around and scouts out jobs where elves might have an advantage and be uniquely suited to help the humans, then he convinces the humans to agree to hire an elf. He sends the list of employment opportunities to the angels, then they post it. We’re encouraged to submit our qualifications for the openings, and if the Jobber picks us, we’re able to leave the island under certain restrictions.”

  Sounded pretty much like going through a recruiting firm. Except for the restrictions, that is.

  “We have to retain gainful employment in order to leave and remain off Elf Island. The Jobber is our only way out of there unless we decide to go back to Hel. And once the angels send us to Hel, we’re not allowed to return here again.”

  “So this Jobber basically holds all of your lives in his hands,” I mused.

  She nodded. “Yes, and word went around that for a fee, you’d be given a priority slot. If you paid the fee and signed a contract with the Jobber, you’d be given employment somewhere. I didn’t realize the job would be one I was completely unskilled to perform. But it’s not like there would be many openings in my family’s skill area. The angels demand that we take positions that assist humanity in their positive evolution, so most of the posted jobs are in healthcare, agriculture, and the arts.”

  “And your family…?”

  She grimaced. “Administrators in public policy. My father was the mayor of one of the small cities in Wythyn. My mother was on the council. We’re trained to deal with budgets and planning, large-scale projects, determining skills and number of elven and human workers needed for these projects, management of public service departments. Outside of that group in Iceland who managed to get some kind of exemption, we’re not allowed to hold public office or operate in any kind of management capacity.”

  Basically she had no transferrable skills to apply for an angelic-approved job. If she hadn’t bought her way off the island, I wasn’t sure she ever would have left. Well, at least until they managed to teach her to watercolor or something.

  “How much was this placement fee?” And how did she manage to pay it? I couldn’t imagine the elves came here from Hel with a stash of human cash or bitcoin credit. Plus, hadn’t Jorge said DiMarche had paid a placement fee to the recruiting company? If so, this Jobber was double-dipping.

  Hallwyn told me a sum that had my jaw nearly hitting the ground. “Of course, we don’t have the money to pay it up front and the Jobber doesn’t take elven currency, so we have to sign a contract. We pay the fee plus interest over the course of our employment. In addition to the fee, the Jobber gets a percentage of each paycheck.”

  “That’s horrible.” I calculated what Hallwyn would have left out of her paycheck and winced.

  “And we don’t have money for the security deposit and first month’s rent on an apartment, or a vehicle, or appropriate human-style clothing to wear, or the cell phones that we need to ensure our new employers can reach us if necessary.”

  I was getting a horrible picture of this whole thing. “Let me guess, the Jobber provides all that at a grossly inflated price and ‘loans’ you the money to purchase it. And you pay back that loan with interest out of your paycheck?”

  She nodded, tears once more glistening in her eyes. “I won’t have my debt paid off for at least eighty years, more if my car breaks down or I need to purchase something else. And if I lose my job, I’ll be in default on that loan.”

  “Which will put you right back in Elf Island, as well as ruining any future chances at getting employment through this Jobber.”

  “That would be the best-case scenario.” Her shoulders dropped. “My father was desperate for me to get off the island and get established, hoping that if I had a good job, he could convince the angels to let him and my mother leave and live with me, that I could vouch for them and support them. I can’t even support myself right now. And if I default…the shame of returning would be just as bad as the knowledge that I lost my only chance of ever getting off that island.”

  “You said there was something worse,” I prodded. “You mentioned that the Jobber had offered you a way to clear your debt.”

  She took a deep breath. “The debt doesn’t go away if I lose my job and get sent back to the island. The Jobber will continue to make me repay it, with added interest and penalties, by doing small tasks here and there for him while on the island. If I die, my family is responsible for my debt. But he has hinted that there is a special opportunity that would clear me of all my debt.”

  I didn’t like the sound of this one bit. “Like if you become his sex slave? Bear his children? Give yourself over t
o a lab where they perform experiments on you until you die? Throw you in a gladiator ring with other elves where the only way out is to kill each other?”

  Her eyes were huge, and she flinched at each of my suggestions. “I have thought of every one of those scenarios as well as others equally unpleasant. I don’t know what this opportunity is, but I’m scared of it. I don’t think I’d come out of it alive.”

  “And you’ve never seen this Jobber? You’ve never seen anyone that works with him? Who escorted you off the island, handed over your car keys and apartment and showed you how to get to work your first day?”

  “The angels deliver us to our new homes, and a human rental person meets us there with the keys. Clothing and other furnishings are already inside as is information about the car, the cell phone, and directions as well as other information about our jobs.” She shivered. “It was scary. Probably the scariest few days of my entire life, but I made it through okay.”

  This didn’t make sense. “How are you supposed to pay the Jobber back? Are they yanking money out of your checking account? Does Guido show up every month to collect?”

  “All the paperwork for my employment at DiMarche was completed before I arrived. There is a bank account with some loaned money in it. When my paycheck is deposited every two weeks, the Jobber has the loan repayment amount automatically withdrawn. The remainder is mine to purchase food, fuel for the automobile, additional clothing.”

  I smiled, patting Hallwyn’s knee. “If he’s withdrawing money from your account, there will be an electronic paper trail. And my brother is just the bloodhound to track who’s at the end of that trail. Do you have your account information on you?”

  She pulled a card and a checkbook out of her purse. I snapped a picture of each with my cell phone and dashed off a quick text to Wyatt with the pics.

  “Do you really have enough magic to heal these vines and help me keep my job?” She asked, stuffing the checkbook and bank card back into her wallet.

  “I can heal the vines, but the problem is time. I only have so much energy. It could take me six months to heal all the diseased plants, and most of them don’t have more than a few weeks.” I hesitated thinking about Apixt’s threat. I should do as Irix said and back off. I should let go and tell Hallwyn that I just couldn’t do it. The infestations were too great for even the pair of us to handle, and there was no sense getting on the bad side of a plague demon for a hopeless case like this.

  But then I looked around me and knew I was lost. I’d become attached to these vines. As long as I was here, working at DiMarche, they were my responsibility and I just couldn’t stand by and watch them die, no matter what the plague demon had threatened. Still… “I’ll do what I can, and hopefully I can train you to help, but unless we can get a group of skilled elves in here, I don’t have much hope for the vineyard.”

  Hallwyn hung her head. “The other elves are having the same problem. Tralian over at Boone Valley is a friend of mine. She actually does have some skill with plants, but even she can’t keep up. The others are completely overwhelmed.” Hallwyn looked up at me, her eyes worried. “Do you think that’s his plan? Does the Jobber want us all to fail so we’ll have to accept whatever horrible thing he wants to do with us?”

  “I don’t know. All this—” I waved my hand at the infected vines “—is a result of a pair of plague demons. I suspect he hired them to drive demand for elven labor on commercial farms, but I don’t know whether things just got out of hand, or the Jobber actually wants you to fail. It could be that he paid for a small-scale outbreak and the demons got carried away and went too far.”

  “If we find the plague demons, do you think we could pay him or her to remove the disease?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

  I remembered Txipa’s expression when Irix and I had been trying to get her and her sister to lay off the vineyard. This was personal for them. I doubted we could bid higher and make any difference at all. Plus, pay her how? Hallwyn had no money. I had no money.

  “I met with Txipa the other day and she seems determined to kill off this vineyard. We may need to just let it go. Pick our battles.” My stomach turned at the thought. Hallwyn and I might be able to heal a few plants here and there, but I needed to reconcile myself to the fact that we were no match for a pair of plague demons. As horrible as it was, this vineyard was doomed.

  Hallwyn whipped her head around to stare at me. “You met with her? You, a human with uncanny magical skill tracked down a plague demon and walked away from the conversation alive and with your soul intact?”

  “It’s a long story.” And not one I wanted to tell right now. “Step one is to find this Jobber and put an end to this Company Store-Coal Mine Era scheme.” If this Jobber was using Txipa and Apixt to spread disease, then he needed to be put out of business. And although I might not have much love for the elves, it bothered me that they were being taken advantage of this way.

  Hallwyn frowned. “But if there is no Jobber, then how will elves find employment? They’ll be stuck on Elf Island forever.”

  “How about a Jobber who doesn’t use plague demons to drive demand and doesn’t enslave you all with horrible contracts and loan-shark deals? This kind of crap isn’t right. I might not be a huge fan of elves, but making you suffer the same fate as your human slaves isn’t the answer.”

  She stood and brushed the dirt from her khaki pants. “I’m beginning to realize that the humans we had as slaves weren’t representative of what you are as a race and what you’re capable of. Maybe because we didn’t allow them to do anything except what we told them. Maybe because, as you said, we’d kidnapped the wrong ones. This world is scary, but it’s the best future available to me. If I need to be flexible about my circumstances and learn to lower my standards, to somehow force myself to consider elves as equal with humans, I will. It won’t be easy, but I will.”

  I stood and looked at my phone, realizing that I’d need to hustle to get to the winery in time for my shift.

  “I have a quick date with Matthieu after work, but I’ll meet you directly after that in field twelve and I’ll help you cure a few of the vines. Beyond that, there’s not much I can do in the vineyard. I’ll do everything I can to get you and the other elves out of this mess with the Jobber, but I really can’t go up against a pair of plague demons. I just can’t.”

  The elf sighed. “I guess that will have to do. I’m not going to give up. You are a weak and easily cowed human, but I won’t run away from these plague demons. This is my employment. I might not be very good at it, but I made a commitment to do this job, and I will.”

  I chafed at the dig, but bit back any retort. If she wanted to see me as weak and afraid, fine. She wasn’t the one who had been hit over the head and dragged through the vineyard. She wasn’t the one who had heard the sincerity in Txipa’s threats. I’d heal a plant here and there because I just couldn’t help myself, but anything more would be like declaring war on the two plague demons.

  I turned to leave, then thought of something else. “And I want you to start socializing with humans. You’ll be miserable unless you start to make some friends. You don’t have to love us all, just find one or two that you like well enough to go to the movies with or grab a quick drink at happy hour.”

  She nodded. “Amber? Thank you. I know I’ve been harsh with you and yet here you are offering to help me. I respect that you had the strength of character to extend the olive branches of peace. If other humans are like you, then I think I might be able to find a friend among them.”

  “I’m sure you will.” The pair of us walked through the vineyard side-by-side.

  “Maybe that Rosa—”

  “No, not that Rosa,” I interrupted hastily. Although it would be funny to watch the elf trying to make friends with the prickly Chilean woman. “Actually, if you don’t mind someone who thinks she’s superior to you in every way, you might get along with her. She’s an amazing cook. And the way to her heart is through grocery store cookies.
Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

  Hallwyn shot me a surprised look. “I’ve seen the elf of Keebler pastries in the grocery store. There are some that are chocolate with chocolate chips and the double M’s in them.”

  “Yes those. Or the ones with coconut.”

  She nodded. “I have a few dollars left in my purse. I will buy these cookies in hopes that Rosa will maybe have lunch with me tomorrow.”

  My heart twisted at the image of Hallwyn eating alone in the golf cart, staring at her strawberries as if she didn’t quite know what to make of the fruit. She was arrogant, snobby, and possibly the worst horticulturist I’d ever met in my life, but she deserved to have a friend. Everyone deserved to have a friend, even jerks of elves.

  I saw the crowd of field hands clustered around the golf carts as Jorge handed out clipboards, the winery a brown speck in the distance. Ugh, I was going to need to run for it.

  “See you tonight,” I told Hallwyn.

  “See you tonight. Oh, and Amber? Is there really a Monsanto god and would it help if I delivered a sacrifice to him as a plea for his assistance?”

  I choked back a laugh. “Some people feel the Monsanto god does more harm than good, while others swear he is the key to providing cost-effective, high-yield, sustainable agriculture. I’d suggest you read up on him a bit more before deciding whether to sacrifice a goat.”

  She nodded, eyes wide. “I will do so, Amber. And thank you again for all of your assistance.”

  I turned from her and once out of sight of the others, I began to run at elf-speed toward the winery. She could thank me later, much later, because I may have sounded confident, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to help her, the other elves, or the vineyard.

  Chapter 19

  After work and my quick interlude with Matthieu, I headed out to the field, waving at Manny and Rosa as they were heading home. Hallwyn was in field twelve, row twenty, staring with a forlorn face at a plant full of downy mildew.