Chapter 24
AN INTERMINABLE SATURDAY
IN WHICH DESSA DOESN’T GET A VOTE OF CONFIDENCE
Keeping her promise to Jamison, Dessa made herself sleep for a few hours before calling her parents to downplay the kidnapping events they’d been blissfully unaware of and then running back into the office.
Even though it was a Saturday, the space brimmed with people.
Melba nearly tackled her as soon as she was down the stairs, fussing over her as if she’d come back from the dead.
Arthur raised a begrudging eyebrow but managed not to remind her of the activity reports she’d owe from her kidnapping.
It probably killed him not to mention it, and she was weirdly touched by the non-gesture.
Meanwhile, Jamison was manning the phone line, coordinating with the different offices as they all tried to reset their security protocols and passwords to patch whatever leak had occurred.
Still, amidst the work, a festive air permeated the space.
Vampires, Werewolves, and Magickers bustled in and out with smiling greetings.
Sometime throughout the day, Noah delivered a cake to the break room, complete with a banner that read: “Congrats on doing your job.” In a small miracle, he didn’t linger, and even Richard hummed to himself as he floated to and fro.
But it wasn’t until Dessa’s phone lit up with Brad’s name that she was truly surprised.
“Hey, Uncle Brad, I guess you heard?”
“I sure did. Well done, Dess. I knew you’d be able to straighten it all out.”
Dessa smiled and pinned the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she continued typing. “And here I thought you were going to give me a lecture about letting enforcement do their work and focusing on the regulations.”
“Psh. Who would ever say a thing like that?”
“Um, your boss at regional,” Dessa laughed, remembering the suit telling her uncle that at least twice every visit. “And maybe Werach too if we ever saw him.”
“But that would be silly, because Werach barely walks down the street these days and regional is spread so thin you’re liable to choke on their dry bread. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
“You’re such a bad influence.”
“Well, has my bad influence and a little action convinced you to stay yet? I know you like it, don’t lie. I can hear it in your voice.”
Dessa glanced at Jamison, and as if feeling her gaze, he shot her a smile before picking up his ringing phone. Her cheeks warmed, and she ducked back behind her monitor. “I’m not quite sure yet. What about Jamison? He also had a big part in the capture. You think he might get a full-time position?”
“I’ll see what magic I can work to get some funding,” Brad said. “If you like him, that’s a vote of confidence.”
If you like him. Dessa’s cheeks heated to oven-levels now.
Did she like Jamison? She was afraid she more than just liked him.
Surely there was no harm in a crush, was there?
After all, it wasn’t like she was looking to jump right back into the crucible of a relationship after the Aiden disaster.
She swallowed, searching for a change of subject, but Brad beat her to it.
“How are you doing, Dess, really? I’m sure that must’ve given you a scare.”
Dessa thought about it, considering the very real possibility she might still be in shock.
“They’re trying to ID the bodies, but they’re not from Azalea Springs, so I don’t know.
I guess I’m weirdly fine?” Maybe she was already so screwed up that she couldn’t be worse than she was before.
She took a deep breath. “I guess I’m just relieved that we found Carly.
She hasn’t woken up yet, but she seems perfectly healthy.
At least we won’t have to deal with abductions for the time being.
But…” She chewed the inside of her cheek.
“It sounded like he was working for the Hexxers, Uncle Brad.”
“Possible,” Brad said, as if this wasn’t news at all. “I imagine he wouldn’t have been able to operate for so long without help.”
Dessa wrinkled her nose. The Hexxers’ dark proclivities were a problem they’d been talking about for decades, but she still hated that they had no solution. “And…something else happened too. I, uh, had to use my gift.”
Brad’s voice dropped an octave, concern dripping from every word. “On the Vampire?”
“Yeah.”
“And it worked?”
“Yeah.”
A string of swears rattled through the phone, and Dessa’s grip tightened. Obviously, this was one of the rare things Brad had not foreseen.
“You cannot let that happen again.”
Dessa paused, the magic in her flinching at the idea. “Why not? No one saw.”
“Because the more you use it, the stronger it’ll get, and the more you’ll crave to use it. This is why I told you to stay away from the Nescients in the first place, and if the PC finds out, they’d see you as a threat. You know how Vamps and Weres deal with threats.”
Once again, Dessa’s gaze flicked to Jamison.
There was no way she was going to tell Brad that someone already knew.
A Kane no less. “Okay, I get it. But I had to.” Her voice shook just a little, but more with indignation.
After all, it had been a life-or-death situation, and she thought she’d handled it well, considering.
“I know, I know,” Brad said. “It’s not your fault.
I’m just, I’m worried about you.” Dessa almost laughed.
Oh, okay, now he was worried about her? Now that she was stronger than ever?
“I’ll try to get home as soon as I can, but just be careful till then.
” There was another garbled shout from the phone, and Brad yelled something back before his voice returned. “Gotta go. Stay safe.”
The call cut out, and Dessa slipped her phone back in her pocket.
“Was that your uncle?” Jamison called from across the aisle. “How’s he doing?”
She chuckled to herself, trying to shrug off the lingering unease. “You know, I didn’t even get a chance to ask him.”
Before she could say more, a knock came from the door.
“Come in!” Dessa called.
The front door burst open with a triumphant ring of the bell, and Rhett Carline strutted into the room as if he were a king walking down a red carpet, a smug grin on his face.
“Most esteemed AzRIO.” He gave them a lofty nod that was almost a half-bow. Jamison rolled his eyes, and Dessa suppressed a smile.
“Most esteemed Azalea Fangs Clan Liaison, Rhett Carline, how may we assist you today?” Dessa asked. “Are you here for the celebratory cake?”
Rhett strolled over to her desk, his grin widening to show off his long canines. “Oh, no, no, no, I don’t want to take away from your rightful spoils.”
“Why are you here then?” Jamison called, a joking lilt to his words. “Don’t you have work to be doing?”
Rhett shrugged. “Jean Marc is still under sedation as we try to remove the toxins from his system. He was under quite the drug cocktail, and judging from that sigil, I suspect he was selling illegal paranormal substances to finance his own habit. Until he awakes for questioning, we can relax since we no longer need to worry about him besmirching the Vampire name.”
“And AzRIO is your go-to relaxation spot?” Dessa chuckled, getting the distinct feeling that the clan liaison was starting to like them.
“It’s important to keep up public relations.” He bounced his eyebrows, and—oh no. Was he flirting with her? “You know we could go relax togeth—”
A paper airplane crashed into his chest, and he frowned at it.
“We’ve already knocked out one Vampire,” Jamison called, folding another projectile. “Don’t make us rescind your welcome too.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Rhett sniffed. “Really, I still want to know how you subdued Jean Marc. The drugs in his system are extremely addictive, but they shouldn’t have incapacitated him.”
Jamison’s smile fell, but Dessa made sure that hers stayed in place. “I honestly don’t know, Rhett. Maybe it was just the fear of the overwhelming force that is me.”
“Yeah, Rhett,” Jamison said. “You’d better watch out, because you never know which Vamp she might go after next.”
“Please.” Rhett straightened his purple tie with all the aplomb of a wronged preteen. “Don’t insult me by comparing us just because we’re Vampires. You’re dealing with a different caliber here.”
“Sure, sure.” Dessa shared a skeptical glance with Jamison, the pile of work looming too large to entertain Rhett. “Any update on Carly?”
Rhett’s face instantly fell. “No. Their best Magicker doctor is treating her, but she’s still unconscious.”
“Rhett!” Melba called from her desk just as a Were client stepped away. “I’m so glad to see you; I have a list of reports waiting for you to review. Come here!”
She beckoned with a finger, and Rhett grimaced before reluctantly dragging his feet toward her. Though it was an amusing sight, Dessa frowned as her mind lingered on Carly.
“Are you okay?”
Dessa nearly jumped at Jamison’s voice. She must’ve zoned out, because she hadn’t noticed him walk over to her side, and now he was leaning over her desk with concern etched between his brows.
Dessa lowered her voice, folding her arms around herself as she leaned back in her seat.
“I dunno. Something doesn’t feel right.” Though she’d never admit it, her mind and her body were wrung out.
She kept running over the incident in her mind, but with the exhaustion still nagging at her, she couldn’t fit the pieces together.
“Why would Carly mention me when I haven’t seen her in years?
She wouldn’t even know I was in town unless… ”
Jamison leaned on her desk, his gaze rapt. “Unless?”
“Unless I was somehow involved in a prophecy she saw,” she whispered.
“Okay…” Jamison sipped his coffee. “But what’s the big deal about that? Maybe she saw you rescuing her? Why do you look like you choked on a lemon?”
“Because prophecies almost always have tragic endings,” Dessa whispered.
Jamison blinked, like the words had smacked him in the face and bounced off.
“That’s a big if though. There could be other explanations.
” He laid his hand over hers, leaning closer.
“Look, we’re all still really tired. Let’s just wait and see what the Vamps find out when they question Jean Marc and Carly. ”
The bell chimed in warning, and a group of Magicker reporters flooded into the room, forcing Dessa back to work as she declined interviews at the same time as Richard tried to accept them.
The rest of the day passed by in a whirl until at last Melba, Richard, and Arthur finally left—Melba with a hug, Richard with some noise about tea with the Ghastly Seniors, and Arthur with a curt nod.
The sunlight was fading through the windows as Dessa petted Kiwi-Fred, her eyes already threatening to fall closed, and Jamison reluctantly slung his leather messenger bag over one shoulder.
Between his collared button-up, slacks, and styled hair, he really did look like a young AzRIO professional now.
A world away from the torn jeans and unkempt beard he’d walked in with a few weeks ago.
“Are you sure you’re okay staying here by yourself tonight?” Jamison’s eyebrows sloped up to a worried peak, but Dessa couldn’t miss the dark bags collecting beneath his eyes. While she’d at least had a nap, he’d barely left his desk since they walked in the door.
“I’ll be fine.” She grinned. “After all, we put away a murderer, so we can all rest a little easier tonight.”
“All right, Blue.” He gave her a dimpled grin, one that had her stomach tangling into all sorts of knots, and a vocal part of her argued that she should ask him to stay.
But not at all because she was scared. The memory of him cradling her to his warm, bare chest reverberated in her mind—his firm arms carrying her to safety, holding her together, shielding her from questions.
She tried not to examine the feeling too closely, to pick it apart or question it.
Instead, she gave it a sideways glance, acknowledging its presence, but in no way ready to face it head-on.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she managed, waving as he walked out the door.
With that, Dessa was alone with Kiwi-Fred, who probably needed a few more perches around the place if he insisted on sticking around. She patted his head, and he ground his beak contentedly.
“What do you think, Kiwi, have you earned a seed-stick tod—”
A shadow flickering in the corner caught Dessa’s gaze, and she turned sharply toward it.
Was someone else still there? She scanned the empty office, Jamison’s peppery scent still flooding the air, before blowing out a tired breath while Kiwi-Fred bobbed in anticipation of his promised treat. Mercy, she really did need some rest.
She went to bed that night hopeful for an easier week ahead, for some long-awaited answers, and maybe for some good news for the Jowett family. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, falling into a darkness too deep for dreams.
And yet somehow, the alarm still managed to puncture that realm of peace much too early. She groaned as she groped for her phone only to realize it wasn’t an alarm at all. It was 5:02 a.m., and Rhett Carline, of all people, was calling her.
Dessa rolled her eyes, reluctantly bringing the phone to her ear. This had better be good. “Hello,” she grumbled, voice thick with sleep.
“Dessa, I’m sorry.” Rhett’s voice was flat, emotionless.
Dessa bolted up in the bed, very much awake as her voice climbed in a squeak. “Is it Carly?”
“No, it’s Jean Marc,” Rhett said. “We found him dead this morning.”
Dessa’s heart plummeted all over again.
So much for answers.