Chapter 2 #2
Huh, did Jamison’s dad know that? If his dad knew, would he have told him?
So far, it seemed like no one really trusted Jamison enough to tell him anything.
Hence, the unofficial house arrest he’d been under for the last year.
Given his track record, he couldn’t blame them, but it was still annoying.
A heads-up would’ve been nice before some curse hit him like an impossible curveball from Mars.
“I’m still missing how this is supposed to help me,” Jamison said.
Brad shrugged. “The way I see it, loitering around the streets of the paranormal community isn’t going to buy you any answers, especially with your current reputation.
Unless”—he raised his eyebrows—“you have an established community member taking you under his wing. Maybe one who trusts you enough to give you a stable job in the local AzRIO.”
Jamison stopped on the pavement, resistance oozing out of him.
This guy wasn’t wrong. Though Jamison had a rough idea where the paranormal neighborhoods were, getting anyone to talk to him had proved impossible.
To make matters worse, his family was doing what they always did around controversial topics: refusing to discuss it.
His dad and cousin were dealing with it in their own solitary ways, and his mom had even gone so far as to forbid him from bringing it up with his grandfather.
So basically, here he was, a year after the curse wriggled under his skin like a rabid tick, and he knew next to nothing about the paranormal world that had ruined his life.
“Okay, so I come work with you—temporarily—and you show me the ins and outs of all the paranormal crap?” It came out more as a question than an offer, a distant howl seeming to object to the exchange.
Brad’s grin came back in a flash of white beneath his salt-and-pepper beard. “Trust me when I tell you, if you want to learn everything there is to know about our piece of the world, there is no better place than AzRIO.”
Jamison shifted from foot to foot, a familiar ten-ton guilt pinning him to the ground.
“If it’s such a good deal, why are you helping me?
Aren’t you worried about my reputation?” He had to force himself not to spit the word.
In some ways, it felt like he’d had a “reputation” since he walked into the world as Xavier Kane’s grandson.
Brad squinted up at the night, his expression thoughtful.
“Look, Jamison, I think we have a choice in who we become, and there are crossroads in life that allow you to reforge yourself. I know because I’ve been there.
” Brad locked gazes with him, his blue eyes burning in the dark.
“So, you tell me if I should be worried, because today, at this crossing, I feel like I can trust you.”
For a moment, Jamison was silent, the idea of being someone different trickling through him. Of not being seen as a dumb screw-up. Of being someone who could be trusted. Brad waited, patient and solid as the night stretched between them like the precipice of something new.
“Yeah.” The word came out scratchy and hoarse. “You can trust me.”
“Good.” Brad’s smile returned. “Because in AzRIO, we solve problems, and we help people. One day, I know you’ll pay it forward just like the rest of us.”
Jamison nodded. After the chaos and heartache his curse had caused, the idea of making a positive impact did sound appealing. If this really was his way into paranormal society, maybe he’d be able to find out who’d cursed his family’s whole patriarchal line.
Who’d killed his girlfriend, his stepmom, and a third woman he didn’t even know.
If he found the source of the curse, maybe he could end it and clear his family’s name for real. Maybe then, he could finally get a good night’s sleep. Or at the very least, earn a little respect from the family that seemed so determined to keep him in the dark.
“An intern, huh?” He kicked at the pavement with one of his sneakers. “Be honest, man. Is this job going to suck?”
Brad gave a full-bellied laugh this time, one that actually got a smile out of Jamison and drew his mind back to Dessa.
Somehow it didn’t surprise him that her uncle was mixed up in all of this—she’d always had that aloof air of mystery about her too.
She also had those same blue eyes, the kind that hid a world of secrets.
Apparently, the vibe had been more literal than he could’ve ever known.
Because if her uncle was in on this paranormal stuff, then so was she.
Brad clapped him on the shoulder. “Kid, I’ve been working in AzRIO for a quarter of a century. I think this’ll be good for you.”
The cursed magic prickled the back of Jamison’s neck, like a cat kneading his insides.
It was still trying to tell him something, but so far, whatever it was had gotten him exactly nowhere.
Even if these were muddy waters, he needed to do something.
He needed to take the plunge off his current desert island or he’d never go anywhere again.
Besides, he was about ninety-nine percent certain that Brad wasn’t going to kill him, and in this world of deadly magic, fangs, and haunting howls, that was probably a good sign.
Jamison ran a hand through his overgrown hair, a rueful smile touching his lips as hope fluttered back to life in his chest. “All right then, I guess I’m your guy.”
After the year he’d had, he could certainly use something good.
And the bar for good…well, he’d just stepped over it.