Chapter 28 #2
Melba and Jamison nearly power-walked to their small conference room. Meanwhile, Noah and Richard continue to argue, the two of them sprawling on the couch to turn on the TV like they lived there.
The door had scarcely closed behind Jamison when Melba let out a cackle. “My goodness, that boy is a mess. He’s even worse than you.” She poked Jamison, and he frowned.
“But I thought you liked me!” Jamison protested as he dropped into a chair.
“Of course I do, except when you bring your running mouth of a cousin. He’s a worse gossip than Richard. I swear it sounds like the two of them exist just to run around this town trading rumors.”
“That’s not my fault.” Jamison rubbed his temples with his fingers. “He just has nothing better to do. Someone needs to put him to work.”
“Maybe we can convince him to go get a job at the enforcement office,” Dessa said, though she couldn’t for the life of her imagine Noah actually being productive.
“Ugh, but then he’d be in our hair more than ever.” Melba’s eyes gleamed, and a wicked smile curved her lips. “Well, until he died that is. Maybe it could all work out anyway.”
Dessa and Jamison shared a glance with equal parts muted shock and suppressed laughter. Sometimes Dessa forgot how irreverently morbid Melba could be, but it was always good for grins nonetheless.
“Anyways,” Dessa cut in. “I really did want to ask you, Melba, since you have Magicker parents, if you know anything about how to break a curse.”
Melba’s lips pursed into an O, and Jamison straightened, his gaze sharpening.
“Well, if it’s a Hexxer curse it just wears off with time,” Melba said.
“Or another Hexxer can easily reverse it. Sometimes that’s part of their whole business model.
Curse, uncurse, curse, rinse, repeat. But with a Magicker, you need to go back to that specific Magicker and convince them to undo the curse.
For example, if Quinley cursed you so your tongue would be burned by her coffee every time you had a cup, you’d have to convince her to reverse it. ”
Dessa frowned at this possibility, and she made an internal resolution to stay on Quinley’s good side.
“What if you didn’t know who the Magicker was?” Jamison asked. “How could you find them?”
“A curse will generally hold the same magical signature as its Magicker, so Uncannies are usually one of the only ways to find them if you didn’t know them directly.”
“But if they have the same signature, how would I know who’s been affected by the curse, and who’s the Magicker?” Dessa asked.
Melba snorted, curling one of her long black braids around a finger.
“I’m not an Uncanny; I don’t know how you all work.
I would assume the Magicker would have a stronger scent or perhaps even leave a trail.
But most often Cogs and Nescients are the victims of curses, as the others are much harder to magically manipulate. Their innate gifts resist it.”
Jamison shifted in his seat, and Dessa couldn’t blame him. This conversation was turning out to be more depressing than helpful. “What happens if the Magicker dies before you find them?”
“As long as a curse is active, the Magicker is tied to it, and so they wouldn’t be able to leave this Earth.” Melba crossed her arms. “That’s why I suspect Richard can’t cross.”
Dessa’s jaw dropped. “Richard cursed someone? I thought he couldn’t cross because he was tied to this office by spite or something.”
“He still won’t tell me, so it’s just my best guess. I suppose pure stubbornness is another possibility, though I doubt even spite is that powerful. Either way, Richard is but a shell of who he was as a human. Every year he fades a little more.”
“Then why doesn’t he just let go?” Jamison asked.
Melba sighed. “I don’t know. As much as he’s forthcoming about everyone else’s business, he’s extremely clammy about his own.”
Mentally, Dessa added two more items to her to-do list: find the Kane curser, and bribe Richard to let go of his curse, or whatever it was chaining him to the mortal plane. “Are the curses documented in our records anywhere?”
“Only when people admit to them,” Melba said. “Usually the reason for the curse is just as bad as the curse itself so—”
Shouting erupted from the main lobby, and Dessa frowned before peeking out of the conference room. She tried to calculate the odds that she could sidestep whatever newest crisis was blossoming here and let Arthur handle it. Because she seriously needed a breather.
Once again, a Vampire and a Werewolf were seething in the middle of the office, but this time, they both seemed to be shouting in tandem at Arthur.
“Get off your bony backside and do something!” the tall Vampire shouted, looking ready to vault over the desk and throttle Arthur himself.
Arthur sat back and crossed his arms over his solid black tie. “Did you inform Deputy Werach in the enforcement office?”
“We did and his secretary said we had to wait until next week for an open spot in his calendar,” the blond Werewolf snarled.
Dessa vaguely recognized her as one of the guards that had been at Carly’s room, and she was fairly sure the Vampire had driven her back from Jean Marc’s house the previous week. But what were they doing here?
“And what do you expect the records office to do?” Arthur asked, his granite stare sliding from one to the other with admirable calm. “Our acting lead was already hurt twice trying to solve problems that were not her job.”
Meanwhile, Richard and Noah watched from the couch as if they needed popcorn. Before the end of the day, half the town would probably hear about this little confrontation, but at least they weren’t actively making the situation worse.
“Contact someone helpful, or I don’t know, maybe even send someone before this town erupts into a bloodbath,” the Werewolf snapped, her claws extending as she leaned over Arthur’s monitor. “Starting with you.”
“Okay, what’s going on?” Dessa stepped into the room, not at all prepared for another round of dramatics, and at the same time not able to help herself. “Is Carly okay?”
The Vampire turned toward her with a dramatic show of relief. “Oh thank mercy. Someone reasonable. Carly is fine.”
“But Rhett and Brynn both went missing yesterday morning and there are signs of violence,” the Werewolf added, her claws receding, if only a little.
Dessa’s stomach dropped like an anvil, her ears buzzing as she scanned the office––the office every one of the victims could be connected to. Apparently, she didn’t have to decide to jump into this newest problem after all.
Because they were already in the middle of it.