Ezra was over when I got home a little while later. His shock of blue hair was the first thing I saw in the living room as I opened the door, stepping inside and hitting the deadbolt as subtly as possible. Thankfully, it was only him and Joel there. And Joel was far too occupied with reading something on his computer, frowning over it as he tapped a pen against his lips. Again, just an ordinary Bic, no feather fluttering off it, no glowing ink spilling on his face as he contemplated otherworldly employment concepts.

“I’m not sure about this one,” Joel murmured.

“Does it pay?” Ezra asked.

“No.”

“Then why would you possibly consider it? Oh, hey, Dar.”

Joel looked up with a grin. “Dar!” he exclaimed. “Hey, what’s up? How was work?”

“Fine,” I lied. Or technically, it wasn’t a lie, was it? It was after work that things had gotten out of hand. And I’d gotten them back in hand quickly on my own.

“Great,” Joel said. “Hey, what do you think of this one? Family Sorcerer for Beverly Homestead?”

“Is that the one that doesn’t pay?”

“Well, not money, no. But I’d live on the premises, and my magic would be part of running the home and the business and yeah, you guys are right, aren’t you?”

“You’re too old to be taking an unpaid internship,” Ezra said.

Joel looked at him in amusement. “Oh?” he said, his tone definitely turning flirty. “And exactly how old am I?”

Ezra shrugged. “Thirty-five?”

Joel’s face fell as he looked at Ezra in horror. “Thirty-five?” Joel repeated. “I’m not even thirty yet!”

Ezra raised his eyebrows, considered Joel for a moment, then looked back down at his own notebook. “I’d offer to put in a good word,” he said. “At Rise. But they’re already starting to cut hours, so there’s no way my boss would hire anyone.”

I took a brief second to imagine Joel working in food service. He’d be lost within an hour. And I would have thought he knew that, even if he wouldn’t admit it. But the way he shrugged and said, “That could be fun,” had me thinking that maybe he didn’t. 

I was curious about this urgency to get a job. After all, Joel came from a wealthy family and his parents had never been stingy about sharing that wealth with him, their only child. So he didn’t really need a job, unless something had happened that I wasn’t aware of. But the way he talked about his life in the past four years made it sound like whatever had happened, he’d needed to do some things he wasn’t proud of to support himself. So the parental support probably wasn’t there anymore. 

And even if it was, I didn’t want to discourage this newfound work ethic, especially when we were living together again. 

“There’s a photographer looking for models,” Ezra said, scrolling through something on his phone as I set down my bag and kicked off my shoes. “I feel like I saw this guy’s ad in Rise too, I’ll have to double check.”

“You think I could be a model?” Joel asked him with a wink.

Ezra was blushing, and clearly Joel had noticed, because he was turning the charm up full force. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I passed them and went into the kitchen for a cup of iced coffee. I’d brewed a batch the day before and a cup would make me feel a little less jittery. Which didn’t make sense, but who was I to argue with what worked?

“It’s paid,” Ezra said. “Not a lot, but maybe it’d be a good idea while you’re looking.”

“Bear in mind that there’s a demented wizard who wants to kill you if you aren’t already dead,” I pointed out as I came back into the room. “So see how far those pictures are going to go before you do that.”

Joel’s face fell. He’d clearly already been three years into his modeling career in his mind. Ezra looked apologetic. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Not your job,” I said.

Maybe I was being a little extra harsh because Joel looked surprised and almost hurt when he looked at me. His eyes caught a sparkling glass decoration on the counter and I was about to say something – maybe an apology, I don’t know – when his gaze went far away as he stared at the glass.

“You saw him again, didn’t you?”

God dammit, was he using my home decorations to scry? I glared at him, but he didn’t seem sorry. “Did he come to your work?” Joel asked.

“No.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, and I wanted to throw the glass at him. “Leave my shit alone, will you?” I snapped at him. “I don’t use your magic wand or whatever to unclog the toilet.”

Ezra laughed, but disguised it as a cough. “Dar, he was there, wasn’t he?” Joel said.

“No, he was at the baseball field.”

“What baseball field?”

“The field where I have practice.”

“You went to a-”

“Don’t you fucking start,” I said, my voice low. “I don’t tell you what to do with your life, you don’t tell me what to do with mine.”

“But-”

I raised my hand again and he stopped. I knew he had a point, and that was probably part of why I was so mad. Maybe it was stupid of me to go to softball practice after work when there was yet another wizard dying to talk to me. “I’m fine,” I said.

“But he came to your work.”

“So did you!”

That one was unfair, I knew it when I said it. I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said. “But I mean it. Please, just leave me alone. I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“Right, yeah.”

Joel went back to his computer. “Oh, there’s a grill cook position at Reg’s. Do you think that’d be good?”

The question seems to be directed at Ezra more than me, so I took the opportunity and left the room.

***

“Can we talk?”

I’d heard Gretel’s footsteps on the stairs, so I wasn’t surprised that A) She was coming into the room and B) She knew what happened. I’d been up in our room for about half an hour, folding some laundry and trying not to feel like an enormous jerk. I was exhausted, on edge, had snapped at Joel, and was so tired of everything being so tense. And now there was another asshole wizard in the mix, just as me and Gretel were trying to get back on our feet.

“Yeah,” I said, picking up one of her t-shirts and folding it.

Gretel was still wearing her work clothes, a black skirt with a floral pattern and a pink shirt. A small gold charm rested on her chest, the delicate chain gleaming in the lamplight. She picked up another shirt and started folding too. “You went to softball practice,” she said.

“I didn’t realize I needed permission.”

God, I had to stop being snotty. “I was fine,” I said. “There was no sign of him all day. And when I told him to leave me alone, he did. He kept saying he just wanted to talk. Because he thinks I have powers.”

“And you told him no?”

“Of course I told him no. He just doesn’t believe me. But he didn’t do anything to hurt me, he was just annoying.”

“Still,” she said, setting the neatly folded shirt on the pile and picking up a pair of my workout shorts. “He’s powerful.”

“He’s got some magic, sure.”

She didn’t say anything in response, but I knew she was trying to form her argument. Trying to figure out how to tell me I should stay home without it sounding like she was trying to control my movement. And while part of me felt a little guilty she had to put that work in, the other part of me appreciated it.

“I had my pepper spray with me,” I said as I continued folding. “The entire hotel is on alert for this guy, he didn’t show up all day, and when I threatened him with what would happen if he followed me into the Landmark, he left. I’m fine.”

“What did you say would happen?”

“That Angie would use his severed head to break her own Scarlet Holding.”

Gretel snorted. “I know you can handle yourself,” she said. “I just worry.”

“I’ll be smart about it,” I said. “I’m not just doing this to be stubborn. I have a job and responsibilities and I can’t just drop them because yet another magical asshole wizard has breezed into town and expects to take up my time.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it. “I promise, if anything worse happens, I’ll take some time away. But I really don’t want to, Gretel.”

“I know.”

She still didn’t look thrilled, but she didn’t argue again as we kept folding the laundry.

---

Continue to Chapter 9