Danielle closed the glass door behind her.
From her desk Tessa glanced at Danielle and tried to smile. Things would only get worse around here. All she was doing was shuffling money from one place to another. Hiding out until she cornered and caught the big fish that could save her business. Maybe she needed to try harder to reel in that sucker.
She traced her fingers along a piece of paper as a spark of an idea came to her. Didn’t Rob dump repossessed stuff in Limbo? Couldn’t she follow him around until he opened the doorway to where she needed to go? He had to be the big fish she needed to get out of trouble! She couldn’t contain the crazy giggle from her lips. She’d be insane to do it, but her options were limited.
“Tessa, do you need a moment—” Danielle began.
“—I’m fine, Dani,” she said. “No need to call the men with straight jackets yet.”
Danielle lowered her eyebrows with suspicion, then patted Tessa’s shoulder and left the room. Tessa quirked a grin. Now she had a definite plan to find her scroll. She checked her computer and blocked out a half hour in the afternoon for an important phone call. It was time to talk to a potential client.
Clive of Clive’s Magical Repossessions.
Later that evening, at a quarter-past eleven, Tessa stood outside the Nigerian restaurant in Brooklyn. She was in a prime position to catch free smells as the strong aroma of spicy scents tickled her nose each time the door opened.
When she first arrived outside of Clive’s Magical Recovery, she questioned her logic. A woman for Clive in exchange for letting her tag along on repo jobs. Great. But how the hell could a witch with French tips pull off this ruse?
Four hours ago, she’d laid out two outfits on her bedspread and thought to herself, which one best looks like a repo chick on the hunt? Courtesy of an hour and a half of “Repo Man: Stealing for a Living” episodes on her DVR, she’d oriented herself to the grittiness of the repo business. In every situation the repo men, and women, encountered irate people oblivious to the fact they neglected to make their payments. The reactions ran the gamut from the crying soccer dad to the knife-wielding pimp.
So she selected some jeans and a pair of sneakers. Then she checked herself in the mirror. There was no way she looked tough. She screamed socialite with her jewelry, makeup and hair. For good measure, she’d ditched the jewelry.
Rob left his office, and she walked up to him.
At first he was silent and stared her down with his frigid facial expression, perhaps hoping she’d turn and bolt in the opposite direction. Tessa straightened her back and took a step forward. Her head reached his chin, and she had to tilt hers upward to check out his expression. His mouth formed a hard line, and she could faintly hear him grinding his teeth. This wasn’t good.
“Good evening, Rob,” she managed.
“C’mon, before I change my mind.” He pivoted in the opposite direction. Tessa followed and tried to keep her eyes from straying to view how finely his blue jeans fit over his ass. He had a weathered brown satchel over his shoulder that rested on his trim right hip. A black t-shirt completed his repo man ensemble.
Thanks to her call earlier with Clive, Tessa now had a new client and an opportunity to follow Rob a few times a week. Clive forewarned her of the dangers involved, but she swatted his concerns away. She had a few offensive spells under her belt. She could handle a disgruntled dwarf or bitter valkyrie who hadn’t made payments on a loaned item.
Three blocks later toward 3rd Street, Rob stopped at Starbucks. Was this their first collection point? The twenty-four hour establishment was full of magical and non-magical patrons reading books, using laptops, or eating a late-night snack.
The willowy, dark-haired nymph behind the counter giggled at him when he reached the counter. “Who’s the tag-a-long, Rob? She looks scrawny.”
He pursed his lips. “Don’t start, Arielle. Give me a double black this time.”
The nymph offered him a sly smile as her thin fingers prepared the coffee. The other patrons couldn’t see her delicate hands as they flowed over the counter with magic trailing like strands of silk blowing in the wind. Dryads, like the one in front of Tessa, usually frolicked in Central or Prospect Park. To see one filling orders at a local Starbucks was a bit offsetting. Perhaps her tree had been relocated to the big city and she was making the best of it.
Rob reached into the pocket of his jeans. Tessa expected him to turn in her direction to ask what she wanted, but he paid for his drink and headed for the door. Her mouth dropped open. What an ass.
“Hey, I would’ve liked something to drink,” she growled to his back. A short snort was her reply.
He reached for the handle and paused as he had a change of heart. How kind of him. “You got five minutes.”
Tessa quickly ordered her latté and trailed after him into the street. After a block, she determined that, smoking body or not, Rob would make a horrible boyfriend for someone. The man was rude and intolerable. They weaved through pedestrians heading toward 2nd Street. She raced to keep up with his wide strides. “Can you slow down, please? Maybe we can take a cab to the next place?”
Rob came to a stop at a busy intersection. She ran into the brick wall of his wide back, her nose smashing into his hard flesh. For a moment, she caught the scent of spicy cologne.
He tilted his head in her direction, revealing his disgruntled profile. “We’re almost to my jump point. It’s a block away.”
She grimaced. “I wouldn’t have asked about this if you didn’t—”
The light turned green and Rob darted into the street. She sprinted, determined to keep his pace.
When they reached 1st Street, Rob entered a diner. The patrons in green-colored booths ignored them as they walked toward the restrooms in the back. She followed close behind—until he went into the men’s restroom. Well, isn’t that fabulous...Out of all the times to stop for a piss. Maybe he did this to annoy her.
She waited a bit before the door opened and a middle-aged Hispanic gentleman brushed past her with a polite, “Excuse me.” As the door swung shut, Rob waited near two urinals with his hands on his hips. He frowned in her direction as if to say, “What the hell are you doing out there?”
He couldn’t treat her this way. Tessa charged inside and raised a finger to cuss him out. He didn’t wait for her. She shouldn’t have been surprised when he went into a single closed stall. At least, he left the door open. As she joined him, something changed in the air. A speck of magic hummed and crawled along her skin. The cramped space smelled horrible.
So this was the jump point. How quaint! What kind of genius placed a teleportation spell in the middle of a foul bathroom?
Tessa closed the door behind her and backed into the stall. She turned to face him, finding his hard body only a few inches away. Her raised hands rested on his chest for moment and she brought them quickly to her sides as if she touched a flame. The enclosed space wasn’t the most romantic of settings, but he exuded a strange energy. A brooding power that made her bite the inside of her cheek and look toward the scratched up drab-gray walls of the stall.
Up close with the bathroom lights shining down on his head, she could make out the faint stubble on his chin. The tight muscles along his shoulders.
“I’ve never used a jump point in a bathroom before. How do we trigger it?” she whispered. “Maybe flushing the toilet?”
He shifted closer to her. She bit her lower lip as he leaned forward—almost as if he took in the scent of her hair. “The trigger works off our bodies. The gate should open any second now.”
Tessa nodded, waiting patiently. Having this man standing close, while trying to be nonchalant, was so damn hard. She’d stood next to countless men of all ages and sizes. Some of them offered wonderful conversation. Yet, here she was—in a stall—standing next to this boorish repo man, wondering what he thought about her. The hum along her skin intensified until all sounds disappeared. It had been years since she’d done this. As a teen, it had bee
n a dare among friends to see how far the rabbit hole went down like Alice in Wonderland.
The teleporting spell triggered and, with a whoosh, they were snagged out of the bathroom and tossed into the stuffy darkness of a dusty broom closet. The smaller space shoved her toward Rob’s chest. She sensed his breath on the crook of her neck, his hardened torso pressed against hers.
“Just a sec, I need to open the door,” he whispered. Rob couldn’t turn toward the door so his arm snaked from around her waist to reach for the knob. As he tried to open the door, he brushed against her breasts and her breath came out in a gasp. The door creaked open—far too slowly—and she squeezed past him into the hallway of an abandoned store. The faint streetlights outside of a small shop illuminated a display case in the room.
“Where are we?”
“Englewood—we’re in Jersey.”
From the placement of the dusty counters, this place had to have been some type of pawnshop or jewelry store. Rob peeked outside the door’s window. He pulled a stone from his satchel. Using the tips of his fingers while he grasped the stone, he drew an “X” across the pane. The air around them surged to the spot like wind escaping through a tunnel. In one moment the glass was there, in the next, it flickered into a milky white form. Once Rob walked through the opaque glass to the street outside, the glass returned to its regular form. She sighed and waited for him. Not again. She didn’t have some fancy rock in her pocket to convert glass to thin air. She tried a basic unlock spell on the door without success. Another spell on the long list of incantations she had to study to advance as a witch.
He appeared at the door again and smirked.
“Not funny, pal. Open the door or get me through it.”
Rob stood outside the door with a pleased smile on his face. With a loud click, the door opened. Once outside, they headed east out of the business district into the residential area. At a white ranch-style house, Rob headed up the driveway before she yanked on his arm.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes, could you please not broadcast to the rest of the neighborhood what we’re here for?” he hissed.
“Sorry...”
A magical presence was nearby. Something from the basement pressed against the back of her skull. Not the most pleasant feeling. Someone stored something powerful here. As to whether it was a witch, wizard, or warlock she didn’t know.Was this what they sought?
Rob reached the maroon-colored side door and, with another unlock spell, he went in. Tessa hesitated before following him in. What was a respectable business owner like her doing entering a home without permission? She could wait outside for Rob to return, but what if he decided to toss the item into Limbo the second he retrieved it? He wouldn’t care if she missed the opportunity either way.
The interior of the home was dim with hardly any lights. In the darkness, the shiny counters of the kitchen gleamed as Rob’s flashlight hit them. The only sound was the faint hum from the fridge.
“Isn’t this illegal?”
Silence met her inquiry.
They walked through the kitchen to the basement doorway. An ornate arch above the door glistened with a warding glamour carved into the wood. Tessa’s nose wrinkled as a putrid smell hit and an urge to flee strengthened. The homeowner must’ve coveted something in the basement and cast a spell over the space to prevent spellcasters, or even the slightly curious, from opening the door. The shadows around the door twitched and she sucked in a breath. Why was this a good idea again? With each step, the muscles in her legs tightened. Almost tight enough to become painful. Four steps from the door, she couldn’t walk any further and panic settled in her stomach.
Yet Rob continued forward, murmuring softly under his breath as he reached into his satchel to retrieve a long peacock’s feather. With the feather in hand, he opened the door and descended into the pitch-black darkness of the basement.
“Rob!”
She managed to step backward before the spell released its firm grip. She turned around and gasped. A small old lady in a floral print shift stood in the middle of the kitchen staring at her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dating Tip #3: If you are allergic to cats, then dating a witch with a familiar is not a good idea unless you are packing some serious antihistamines. Witches are cat hair magnets.
Rob had left her alone for less than a minute and that woman had already gotten into trouble. He wasn’t surprised one bit. He smirked as he fetched the crown from the basement. The peacock feather in his hand gave him a very limited amount of time to make it through the deterrent spell and get back.
By the time he made it back up, Rob found Tessa facing away from him, continuing to stare blankly at a harmless elderly woman. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”
Without another word, he walked around Tessa, precariously dangling the silver crown from his index finger. The small woman blocked Tessa’s path to the side door. He could practically predict what she’d be thinking: Rob, get your butt back here!
Harabeuji chuckled, causing the bag to vibrate against his hip. “You’re usually not this mischievous, Doryeonim.”
He should’ve been nicer, so his curiosity made him linger right outside the cracked door. Since he’d been here before on another collection, he knew the older woman had a simple request. While he waited, he opened the door to Limbo and quickly tossed the crown inside. Another job completed.
“Will you get me my milk, Lisa?” The elderly woman’s voice emerged from the house nearby with a child-like wheeze.
He smiled. He’d fetched her milk and a sandwich last time.
Faintly, he heard the sounds of searching through the cabinets. A fridge door opening and closing. When Tessa’s light footsteps approached the door, he opened it with what he hoped was a stern face. “What’s taking you so long?”
She glared at him. “We decided to do our nails together while we had a nice chit-chat. I can’t believe you ditched me!”
“I thought you could handle it. You wanted to be here so bad.”
“Yes, I need help—but you don’t just leave people like that.”
She looked down at his empty hands. “Did you already open and close the gate to Limbo?”
He chuckled as he headed down the driveway. “While you were busy with your new friend, I dumped the goods.”
“Can’t you open it again?”
“Nope, only opens if I have something to repo.” He tried to hide his grin. “Guess you’ll have to wait until next time.”
The look she gave him was vicious enough to take down ten men. Even with the glare she was gorgeous. But as pretty as she was, he didn’t have time to mess with debt-laden witches like this one. He had enough problems. But even if she did annoy the hell out of him, another trip with her might not be so bad.
Tessa stalked down the driveway and tried to maintain some distance from Rob. Any closer and she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions. Most of them included ripping Rob’s limbs from his body.
Time and time again she’d met men like him—loners, rebels without a cause, and hard core silent types whose five-word conversations were enough to drive the most patient of women heading for the hills. Then they wondered why decent women scorned them. If she ever hooked him up on a date she could hear it now: “I spent the whole time feeling like I was talking to a brick wall.” Or even more straightforward, “I’ve had more fun taking my familiar to the groomers, and he’s gay.”
Rob won this time, but she planned to stick to him like those Levis he wore during his next repo mission.
They returned to the shop downtown. Rob was silent—big surprise—as he walked ahead of her, not as fast as before. According to her watch, it was a little after one in the morning when they reached the shop. He turned to whisper in her direction as a couple walking their dog passed by. “Wait a second.” He stopped her with his hand on her waist. She jolted to a stop from his firm grip.
They rounded a corner and Rob entered the shop. Tessa c
hecked the street for cars and followed close behind. After a few seconds of adjusting to the darkness, she strode to the back of the store to see Rob waiting in the closet. Not again. She honestly didn’t want to be in any enclosed space with this man, but with a shake of her head she turned to the side and angled herself into the closet. The sooner she got this over with, the better. She presented her backside to him and at the time she thought it was a great idea—until her body brushed up close against his. He shut the door and closed them into the stuffy space.
Against the crown of her head he laughed, his breath warm as he leaned in closer. Okay, any second now please. She could feel his broad chest against her back down to his lean legs. When something stirred and hardened against her buttocks, a whisper of mercy bubbled from her lips.
“Is this gate out of order or something?” Damn, why did her voice have to sound so hoarse? Sultry?
He tilted toward her ear, his breath eliciting a shiver. “Five, four, three...”
With an audible pop, they were thrust back into the bathroom stall at Kathy’s Eatery. The toilet should’ve been behind her, but it was in front instead. Disoriented, she fell forward as Rob grabbed her waist to keep her from touching the seat.
Perfect timing for the stall door to swing open and have an older black guy see her bent over with Rob perched over her doggy-style.
“Not the best place to make out, people,” the man said.
Last night had been the most fun Rob had experienced since he’d arrived back in New York. He’d had wild times with old friends in the past, but none of them compared to going on a repo mission and ending with him bending a hot witch over in a broken-down bathroom. Tessa probably cursed his name before she drifted off to sleep in her Midtown palace. Rob chuckled at the thought as he sat on the steps in front of his aunt and uncle’s house in Brooklyn. There was hardly any traffic to distract him. Even though it was sunrise, he was wide-awake.
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