Unsurprisingly, a shock of red hair waited inside the foyer as I prowled in. I tucked my wings in tight, but Mordecai had designed the room for himself, so my caution was unnecessary. As I maneuvered over to Squirrel Butler, my gaze turned to the manor doors. Tarik leaned against the wall, first in line. He was determined, I could give him that.
The shift back into human form took longer than usual. Exhaustion. Unfortunately, Enforcers didn’t get days off. Mordecai didn’t believe in them. Apparently he didn’t believe in rest today, either. I glanced at Tarik again and smirked as I gathered the clothing held out to me.
“Hi, Tarik,” I cooed. “Enjoying the view?”
His eyes widened comically when he caught sight of me. As if pulled by some magnetic force, his gaze wrenched downward, landing on my chest. He had done that three times now. And like the last two, he quickly looked away, blinking rapidly. A new detail caught my attention this time, though; a blush that crept up the back of his neck.
He reached a hand up and scratched at the growing red stain, as if trying to scrub the blush away. My smirk grew.
“Bravo, you remembered my name. I didn’t know you had other talents besides stalking,” he said sarcastically.
Interesting. Deflecting because he was uncomfortable. My thoughts skipped to his temper. What was that a coping method for?
I mentally shook myself, turning my attention to the clasp of my shorts before fastening the buttons on my top. This wasn’t the time for a psychological profile. Squirrel Butler passed me a tablet and I slid my finger across the screen. Flipping the device over, I showed him where his name blinked at the top of the list.
“Hail? Tarik Hail?” My lip twitched as I considered. “Seems fitting that you’re named after chunks of ice that like to bludgeon people.”
His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he muttered, “Never heard that one before.”
My fingers danced across the screen, checking his credentials. Name, age, etcetera etcetera. I looked up again, a reluctant sigh falling from my lips.
“Are you sure about this?” At his nod, I shrugged. “All right, follow me.”
I led him to the rear entrance of the manor but, instead of opening the door leading outside, I took a sharp left and followed the wall to a door farther along. Through that, a staircase spiraled downward, the only surface entrance to the mines below. Or, at least, the only one I knew of.
Round, silver-edged lights lined the rough stone walls. I hadn’t considered having to climb these stairs a couple dozen times today. My head lowered in defeat, the groan I released far louder than intended. A small snort of laughter caught my ear from behind.
“Keep laughing. I’ll make you climb these stairs with me—and I’m going to be escorting applicants all day.”
Chatter echoed up the stairs from below. I hadn’t anticipated Mordecai being alone, but I couldn’t imagine who he would enlist to help him with the interviews either. The staircase widened out into a cavern of stone that narrowed into a hallway on the far side. According to the tablet, the Fae would work in a room farther along—a room filled with green crystals. Genesis Crystal.
I hated coming down here. The mines always made my stomach uneasy and my hands shake. I couldn’t decide if the feeling was a weird side effect of the crystals, or my conscience screaming about the wrongness of the mines in general.
Mordecai hoarded the Genesis Crystal. I didn’t know what the green rocks did, or why he wanted them, but I was certain they had value I couldn’t see. Especially with the amount of money he put into the lab designed to research them. I did know that the bombs surrounding Nathra City had chips of the crystal in them, and that I wasn’t allowed to touch the stuff. Maybe they were easily detonated?
I shot a glance to where Tarik walked behind me. Even in the dim glow of the lights he looked pale. Did he feel the same way I did? Or was he nervous about the interview?
I led him farther into the cavernous room, to a grooved cutout in the wall where Mordecai had set up a makeshift office. My eyes slid to Tarik again as we approached, my stomach recoiling at what I was about to do. This certainly wouldn’t win me any brownie points.
Do I really care what he thinks?
Still, I swallowed hard when Mordecai stared at me expectantly—and I knelt. “In loyalty and service to the Great Dragon.”
My throat tightened. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the Fae beside me, even after Mordecai snapped his fingers so I could rise. The flutters in my chest sped up to a painful pace. I could almost feel Tarik’s distrust thrumming off him. Mordecai’s eyes danced over him before he motioned to the woman at his side.
“My new assistant, Jocelyn. She’ll be overseeing our new employees.”
I studied the woman, not recognizing the name. Ruby-painted lips, bronze skin, long ebony hair. She was dressed for business in a tight A-line skirt and button-up blouse. Jocelyn’s lips widened into a welcoming smile.
“Reagan, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much.” She glanced at Tarik. “And this must be our first applicant?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I handed her my tablet, which she scanned and passed back.
Mordecai glanced down at his own device. “Tarik Hail, am I correct?”
Tarik’s complexion had paled even further, but his eyes were sharp and wholly trained on Mordecai. He looked . . . Oh no. I closed my eyes and braced for impact.
“Yes, your grace, that’s me.”
I glanced between the two. Mordecai lifted his chin, studying Tarik down the line of his nose. “Mordecai will do. What’s your interest in this position, Tarik?”
“Well, sir, I couldn’t pass up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. What an honor for us lowly Fae to be offered jobs from the esteemed dragon himself.” Tarik plastered a fake smile on his face—I fought to stifle a laugh at the absurdity.
Mordecai shoved his chair back, eyes narrowing as he stepped around the table. My stomach dropped, humor gone. He swooped into a predatory stance, circling Tarik slowly, examining the Fae from head to toe. When he stopped he was right in front of him, a tad too close for my own comfort.
“And is there truth to the rumors that you can’t seem to hold a job?” The small smile on Mordecai’s lips sent a shiver down my spine, but he continued. “And that you regularly cause issues for my daughter and the other shifters who frequent The Pit?”
Tarik’s eyes practically glittered. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “More like they can’t handle all of this.” He made a gesture spanning the length of his body, adding as an afterthought, “Your highness.”
Mordecai licked his lips. He stared into Tarik’s eyes for a moment, then blinked. I knew that look. That decisiveness.
“You’re awfully arrogant to come asking for a job and then present yourself in such a manner.” Mordecai stepped away, circling back to his perch behind the desk. His smirk was vile. “But I'll tell you what. Find one shifter. One. Who will vouch for you. And you can have this job.”
I stared a little too hard at the uneven floor, swallowing the knot in my throat. No other shifter was going to speak in his favor. Not one. But if I did, what would Mordecai think? Had Alec told him about that Fae rumor, so now he was fact checking me?
The silence in the room was palpable. My eyes finally lifted to Tarik’s face, to the tension lining his shoulders, to the fists trembling at his sides. Damnit. I tried to imagine myself in his shoes, with that little boy, Benji, needing him. His mouth slid open and I took a step forward. “Father, I’ll speak for him.”
Tarik’s troublemaker mouth snapped shut. Mordecai’s stare locked onto mine, his voice low when he asked, “Why?”
“The shifters at The Pit might complain about him, but they like that he’s there. They can bet on the fights and Tarik gets to blow off steam. I’m the one who deals with the problems down there every night. I’ve seen what goes on myself.” I licked my lips, bought myself the split second I needed to come up with an excuse. In for a penny . . . “And I was the reason
he lost his last job. I pissed off a couple of the shifters when I told them to lay off him. They found him later. He wasn’t able to work the next day. If I had done my job properly, he wouldn’t have been late.”
Mordecai stared at me—really stared—and I squirmed at the carefully bottled fury lurking in his eyes. There would be a discussion later. Probably a punishment. I had teetered over that line of getting too close to the Fae, and he had warned me. My fingers slid to the scars at my throat, before I realized and jerked them away. Still, I couldn’t let Tarik lose this job now that I knew what—or who—the position was really for. Even if he couldn’t keep his damned mouth shut, and Mordecai was playing games.
Punishment or no.
“So be it,” Mordecai said quietly. Jocelyn bounced around the desk and extended a hand toward Tarik.
“Welcome aboard,” she said. Her widespread, toothy grin reminded me of the clowns I had been afraid of as a child. Innocent enough, until they were standing over you in your sleep. A shiver raced up my spine. If Mordecai trusted her, I didn’t.
“Be here first thing tomorrow morning. Eight. Do not be late, and leave your attitude at home.” Mordecai’s voice was still too soft, too low. I could vomit.
Without a word I motioned at Tarik to follow, clutching the tablet a little too close to my chest as I led him up the spiral staircase. He remained silent. For once. Back in the foyer, the next Fae applicant stood waiting inside the doorway.
“Wait.” Spoken so softly, I almost missed the word. I turned to find Tarik studying me, a crease bisecting his brows. “Why did you do that for me? After all the things I’ve said to you?”
“I don’t know.” I stared at the floor. My stomach still felt wrong, and not because of the mines this time. Mordecai was angry. And all because of a Fae I had been dead set and determined to abandon last night. He had a death wish and I didn’t have the heart to watch another light get snuffed out by this city. But his tiny revelation about the boy had given me pause. So here I was, opening my big mouth . . . “Come on, there’s other applicants for me to take down.”
Before brushing past me, he paused, then said, “I’m not forgetting who you are, but I’m not forgetting what you’ve done, either.” He parted with, “See you around, stalker.”
I watched him leave, the door closing heavily behind him. What had I done? I had helped him, despite his attitude and all his protests. The next Fae followed me when I gestured, verifying his name before I settled back into my thoughts. I had set out to help him and I had accomplished that.
But what will be the cost?
My blood ran cold. Tarik was trouble, and I gravitated to trouble. To the dying, the sick, the abused. To the one Fae in the city who seemed to want to fight back, who I wanted to keep alive because . . . because his fire was motivating. I didn’t feel so alone, knowing that another soul in Nathra was battling against the shifter oppression, and I couldn’t help but want him to keep fighting.
And, selfishly, deep in my gut I had this feeling that if I could convince this one Fae I was good, maybe I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty all the time. That maybe Tarik, who seemed to hate the shifters more than any other Fae, could grant me some small peace and forgive the stupid title which plagued my steps and ruined my predetermined life. I had trained for this job since I could walk. There were no options in the matter; I was always meant to be an Enforcer. I didn’t realize what that entailed, what Mordecai and Alec actually did, until I was far older. Until the damage was already done. Service and loyalty to my adoptive father were ingrained reflexes.
Speaking up for Tarik was worth the consequences, I chanted to myself. I stood behind my decision. Didn’t I? My breath came in staggered bursts. I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly.
Worth it, I repeated.
So why didn’t I believe myself?
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I kept to myself, quiet, and didn't interfere with any more interviews. Mordecai didn’t let me forget his anger though. The fire in his eyes grew with each passing applicant. Late in the afternoon, when I had escorted the last Fae out, I turned to find him in the foyer with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
His eyes narrowed on me. “What were you thinking, interfering with Fae dealings?” he spat. “Have I taught you nothing?”
“I was the reason he lost his job, Father. I felt guilty.”
“You shouldn’t. We do not help the Fae.”
I paused. I hadn’t expected him to confirm my suspicions about this job so easily. “Isn’t that the whole purpose of your mining operation? To help the Fae?”
Oh. He didn’t like being called out. Rage ignited his expression and I winced as he snarled, “My office, now.”
Too far. I had pushed too far. Without response I turned to shuffle up the stairs, hurrying into the enclosed room. He didn’t follow. My usual punishment was a couple dozen lashings. I could handle that. Even so, my chest tightened at the thought, blood pulsing in my ears. When the door finally opened I almost sobbed in relief.
Until I saw what was in his hand.
A long, thin metal rod.
One whose end was fashioned into a brand of his dragon insignia. I stared hard at the small bit of silver, then met his eyes.
Oh.
Oh.
“Father, wait—”
“I’ve been too lenient with you, Reagan. You’re soft. You’ve always been soft. I’ve let you slip through the cracks for too long,” he growled. “You are the Night Enforcer. You have a job and a duty, one that does not involve playing knight in shining armor to the Fae. Apparently you need a more permanent reminder of who you are and who you belong to.”
I froze. He stuck the metal into the crackling flames of his fireplace. The instinct to shift clawed at my insides, but my body was too tired. Pressure grew along my spine and then faded. My wings never came. I was alone. No help to be had.
The silver glowed a hot orange.
“Kneel,” Mordecai barked. Every inch of me trembled as I dropped to my knees, head bowed. He inched closer and shoved my head up, brushing my hair across the far shoulder. He tugged the collar of my shirt lower then gripped my hair, shoving my head away from him to expose my neck. I trembled in fear, in horror, as he met my eyes and said, “We do not help the Fae.”
White hot pain lashed through the left side of my neck, splintering my vision. He held the brand there.
One second.
Two.
Three.
When he finished, I collapsed onto the rug. My breath came in long, frenzied gasps and I sobbed into the rough fabric that bit into my cheek. The mark thrummed angrily on my neck, pulsing along with the heartbeat that slammed into my ears.
“Get out,” Mordecai bellowed.
I lifted myself, arms and legs trembling, and crawled to the door. I managed to turn the handle, to crawl into the hallway. The marble floor flew toward my face and the world went black.
Worst hangover ever.
I thought I’d slept off last night’s stupidity, but the headache had increased after my interview with Mordecai, forcing me to take an afternoon nap—that hadn’t helped. Maybe his mere presence had caused the migraine pulsing at my temples and the slight tremor in my bones. I snorted, hopping over a rain puddle which only made my head pound more. My healing magic all but begged me to soothe the ache, but I ignored the pull.
At the sight of Mordecai this morning, I’d lost my temper. Completely screwed up. The rage had taken control, unfurling from my mouth in the form of snark.
Somehow, I was still alive. For a hot second, I thought he’d morph into a fire-breathing dragon and burn me to ash. The look in his eyes . . .
And then Reagan had interfered. I shook my head, picking up the pace. My bare feet slapped against cracked concrete as I took a late evening jog along the Fae border. If not for her, I’d probably be in an unmarked grave right now. Up until last night, I thought I’d wanted that—to leave this cold, sadistic world behind. Go out with a bang
. Show shifters what Fae were still capable of.
But now . . .
Now I realized what an idiot I was. Destroying my life in a blaze of glory would mean absolutely nothing to anyone, least of all the shifters. Except maybe one. Sweat trickled down my spine, reminding me of her spine, the way it dipped inward before tapering off, giving way to—
Crap. I couldn’t stop picturing her naked. She really needed to quit parading around the city with nothing but a network of colorful tattoos splayed across her skin. My thoughts took a hike every time my eyes landed on those sinful curves.
I groaned, firmly shaking my head. Wrong. Looking at her that way was completely wrong. The screws holding together my dimwitted brain were coming loose, probably thanks to the recent cage fights and increased drinking. Maybe I should stay away from The Pit for awhile. That way I wouldn’t run into her.
As I rounded a crumbling brick building with its smashed front window boarded up, there she was as if I’d conjured her. And then I literally ran into her. Our bodies collided and, on instinct, my arms wrapped around her back so she wouldn’t tumble to the uneven pavement. A soft whimper left her lips and I immediately let go, jerking back a step.
I was breathing hard from my run, sweat stinging my eyes, so I couldn’t get a proper read on her expression. After our last meeting, I wasn’t sure what to expect. And for once . . . for once my mouth didn’t fill with the acidic tang of disgust at the sight of a shifter. I quickly scanned her body, a sigh of relief puffing from me when I saw the black cropped shirt and shorts covering her frame.
“When I said ‘See you around’, I didn’t think you’d run into me this soon, stalker.” I flicked my eyes to hers, waiting for a reply, but none came. She just stared, like she’d seen a ghost or something. She almost looked . . . haunted.
Finally, she said, “Oh. Hi, Tarik,” then slipped a cigarette between her lips, inhaling slowly. Her gaze grew distant as the cigarette glowed orange. A slight tremor shook her hand. She moved past me then, not really seeing. Simply walking.
Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1) Page 7