Chapter 3 #2
The door opened with a questioning jingle, and Brad stepped out of the entry to make way for a guy around her age with shaggy, dark blond hair hanging to his shoulders.
A scruffy beard coated his jaw, giving him a distinctly surfer vibe with his sun-tanned skin, torn jeans, and a wide neck T-shirt fitted to his lean body.
But what surprised Dessa was the scent of magic on him.
Not the woodsy pine of a Werewolf, nor the fresh eucalyptus smell of the Vampires.
Not the rich vanilla scent of Magickers, or even the smoky musk of a Hexxer.
This was a peppery, almost spicy trace she hadn’t encountered before.
Her Uncanny senses recognized no similar gift in him, and yet there was something familiar about the way he moved, like a lazy wave rolling up on golden sands.
His gaze flicked across them behind his dark sunglasses, and Dessa could’ve sworn his mouth quirked up when he saw her.
Brad reached out a broad palm to the guy. “Glad you could make it.”
He shook Brad’s hand. “Hope I’m not late to my first Monday morning meeting.”
And then it hit her like a sledgehammer, her voice squeaking out from her chest. “Jamison Kane?” She turned to her uncle, the impossibility of it knocking the air from her lungs. “You hired Jamison Kane as the other intern?”
“Well, if it isn’t Dessa Blue McKinney.” Jamison slid up his sunglasses into his shaggy hair, his cheeks dimpling as he shot her a million-dollar smile, and with the amount of money his family had, that probably wasn’t even figurative.
“This is a pleasant surprise. I’m honestly flattered you remember me. ”
Melba glanced between the two of them with a sly grin, one that said she’d one-hundred-percent already known about this, and she might also need some popcorn to fully enjoy the situation.
Dessa, on the other hand, clammed up. There were just too many words jostling to escape, and she couldn’t decide which to set loose first.
Did he really mean Jamison Kane, infamous hellion of the richest, and now most notorious, Nescient family in Azalea Springs? Who was accused of killing his girlfriend, his stepmother, and a third family friend last year? Whose case was mysteriously dropped?
And why on earth did he now have a peppery mystery magic clinging to him when she knew he didn’t have it in high school?
As their unrivaled class clown, he’d run with the most oblivious of Nesci popular crowds.
The crowds she’d studiously avoided. Now though, he wasn’t giving off that clueless, ritzy-ditzy air that had soaked him as a teenager.
Something had changed about him, but she couldn’t quite identify it.
Well, except the obvious demise of his fashion standards. For a guy who’d checked his hair in every reflective surface in high school, he’d really let himself go.
Brad clapped a hand on Jamison’s shoulder, continuing as if Dessa’s world hadn’t been rocked off its axis.
“Dessa Blue’s been running this neighborhood since she was knee-high.
She’ll be sure to get you up to speed in no time.
” His gaze slewed to Dessa, perhaps noting the panicked outrage, and he sobered.
“I really need the two of you to work together here, Dess. The state office is watching us closely these days, and if we don’t show a solid track record, they’re talking about shutting our branch down to consolidate with the regional office. ”
“A solid track record?” Dessa finally spluttered, her brain officially in haywire mode. A-Springs was balanced on a trip wire on the best of days; if they lost the intermediary office, the town would fall into a bloody feud within the week. “Then why did you hire a murder suspect?”
A dark shadow rippled across Jamison’s expression, but he quickly replaced it with a smile, lifting his hands placatingly. “Now, now, I was absolved of those charges and the case dropped. Officially, I’m innocent.”
Right. She gestured to Jamison with a pointed look at Brad.
The PC liaisons worked with AzRIO because they trusted them.
The Kanes’ multimillion-dollar business group hovered over the town like an unwanted step-dad.
And that was before the string of murders that had been mysteriously absent from any kind of large news outlet.
Even back in high school, Jamison Kane’s crowd was well known for airheaded trouble, and his pretty-boy face practically screamed hush money.
Credibility: zero.
Her uncle stepped forward, putting his hands on Dessa’s shoulders like he could keep her from spiraling up into the ceiling. Too late for that. “I’ve told Jamison he has a place here as long as he wants the job, and you know I wouldn’t hire anyone I didn’t trust.”
Dessa just about choked on her tongue. “You cannot be pulling that line right now. I know him better than you, and considering I’ve spoken a total of a dozen words to A-Springs’ infamous class-clown himbo, that’s saying something.
” Jamison Kane was a wrench in a machine that was already threatening to sputter out.
How could Brad pull this crap and then walk away?
Maybe he was still holding a grudge against her after all.
“Oh, c’mon.” Jamison folded his arms and leaned against the wall, unbothered vibes rippling off him in a torrent that only exacerbated Dessa’s annoyance. “We were in at least two dozen classes together in high school. I’m hurt that you’d be so quick to believe I’d unalive someone.”
Maybe she could just shove him out onto the sidewalk and lock the door.
“Dessa.” Uncle Brad’s voice dropped an octave in earnest. “You’ve been gone for a while now, and I know a lot has happened, but there was a time we would’ve trusted each other with anything.
” The words hit Dessa like arrows to her chest. “And I need you to trust me on this, because I never stopped trusting you.”
Brad’s soft gaze glided over the office, and Dessa followed his stare, taking in the familiar furniture, Melba’s smile, Richard now silently settled into the couch, and even Arthur still hiding behind his desk.
But it was more than just a place—the work they did here protected their community, and it held them together. Someone had to do it.
“Of course I trust you.” Dessa swallowed. If anyone had set fire to the bridge between them, it was her, but never because she didn’t trust him. “If this is what you need, then I’ve got it.” Her gaze flicked to Jamison again. “I mean, probably.”
Brad set a hand on her head just as he had when she was small, his face breaking into a smile. “That’s my girl.” He straightened. “All right then, I—”
The buzz of his phone interrupted him, and he dug it out of his pocket.
He’d barely glanced at the screen before his face darkened, a swear slipping out under his breath.
Shoving the device back into his jeans, he turned to Jamison.
“Sorry, but I’m going to have to cut the intro short.
Melba’s in charge of the office, and you can consider Dessa your guide to all things paranormal.
You’ll fit right in before you know it.” His attention shifted to Melba and Dessa.
“This fed case will be in the mountains out west, so I might not have cell service, but I should be back in a couple weeks. Thanks for holding down the fort.” He leaned closer to Dessa, lowering his voice to a whisper.
“I also left a gun for you in the safe with both silver and oak rounds if you need it.”
His serious gaze held hers, and Dessa nodded, pressing her lips together.
Though Brad had taught her how to use a gun, she’d always preferred the simplistic pop-stake, which now sat in the glovebox of her car.
It was less likely to escalate the situation and did about as much good as a gun against anyone of the paranormal persuasion.
Which was, essentially, no good at all. But it was better than nothing.
With that, Brad lifted his still buzzing phone and breezed out the door, leaving Dessa unmoored in the entryway. For a moment, the three of them seemed to float in his wake, only the clatter of Arthur’s keyboard filling the silence.
Needing to do something, and very much ignoring Jamison, Dessa turned to Melba with a forced smile. “So you’re in charge?”
Melba let out a musical laugh as she turned and walked back to her desk. “You know I can’t be trusted without adult supervision.” She waved them off with a bright smile. “But for my first act as the person in charge, I delegate deputy lead agent duties to Dessa Blue McKinney.”
“The AzRIO is falling apart,” Richard groaned from where he hovered above the couch. “The times we live in.”
“Um…” Jamison squinted at Richard’s silver form. “Is that a ghost?”
“Dead all these long years and still bound to this cruel world.” Richard threw a hand over his forehead in the picture of melodrama, and Melba rolled her eyes.
“Yes, but you can ignore Richard. He comes and goes like a miserable stray cat.” Melba sank into her spinning chair and twirled around. “Don’t let him turn you off all ghosts though. Some are quite pleasant.”
The color drained from Jamison’s face, and Dessa hid a smile behind her hand. Okay, maybe this would be fun after all. But geez. Where to start? She took in his sneakers, ripped jeans, and T-shirt. “Is that really what you wear on the first day of a new job?”
He shrugged and pushed off the wall. “I figured I’m just an intern.” He pointed to a desk that faced hers near the door. “Is this where I sit, boss?”
Dessa wrinkled her nose. “I’m not your boss, Jamison Kane.”
“So formal.” He sank into the seat and propped his feet on the desk. “Jamie, Jay, Jase, hey you. Any of those work just fine.”
Dessa crossed her arms. “Okay, what do you really want here, Jamison Kane? This isn’t a game.”
“Trust me, I know.” Jamison barked out a bitter laugh and slammed his feet to the ground.
“Look, Dessa McKinney, I’m up to my neck in this stuff, and call me dumb if you want, but I have zero idea of what’s going on.
” Planting his elbows on the desk, he leaned forward, the levity lost to the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones.
She couldn’t even remember him pretending to be serious in high school.
“And I need to know. I swear I’m not here to cause trouble, but I really do need your help. ”
For a moment, Dessa held his gaze, so many questions still bubbling in her. What happened to your girlfriend? Do you know you have magic in you now? In school, Jamison had always been larger than life, lighter than air, the very sun their class seemed to revolve around.
But now, his green eyes were haunted, his shoulders slumped, and a heaviness coated him like a second skin.
The contrast was so stark, she could hardly believe she was speaking to the same person.
Whatever metamorphosis had caused this had surely been painful, and unfortunately, it was also a pain she was familiar with.
After all, the paranormal world was many things—cryptic, intriguing, extraordinary—but it was first and foremost, dangerous.
Especially for those who stumbled into it unwittingly.
And the teenage Jamison Kane had certainly been unwitting.
With a deep sigh, she nodded and sat in the chair across from him, searching for the right words. But just when she opened her mouth—
A Vampire knocked on the door.