Chapter 4 #2
That was the last straw. Remy stormed into Artur’s office and quit, unwilling to be complicit in what he felt was gross negligence.
Stunned, Artur stared at him, his mouth agape in disbelief.
Whether the reaction was caused by Remy entering without waiting for permission or that he quit, he didn’t know, but for the first time ever, his boss was speechless.
When Artur eventually regained his voice and asked him why he was resigning, that’s when all of Remy’s pent-up frustrations, complaints, and anger poured from him until he was breathless.
Collapsing into the nearest chair, appalled at what he’d done, unable to think about his actions, Remy’s mind went blank, except for his need to go home, back to his parents, where he could lick his wounds.
But to his surprise, Artur rose, gently advising him to get some rest and that he would take care of everything by the time Remy came back in the morning.
Shocked at Artur’s kindness, he simply nodded before leaving.
Walking back to his cottage in a daze, he was unsure of what had just happened.
Once inside his house, he stared at the living room ceiling, trying to fathom his boss’s unusual behavior.
Not able to make heads or tails of it, he climbed the stairs to his tiny bedroom where he stripped off his clothes, leaving them where they fell.
Then, crawling into bed, he was asleep within moments, succumbing to exhaustion.
The next morning, Remy woke, not refreshed as usual, but tired from a night of anxious tossing and turning.
Cursing himself for acting so rashly, he hurried through his morning routine, then walked slowly to Artur’s office, dreading what might happen.
Keeping his head down, he ignored the workers heading out to the lavender fields, swallowing his guilt for letting them down.
Once he was gone, Eideard would be in charge, not giving a damn about the workers, caring only that they obey his illogical and dangerous orders.
And all because I couldn’t control my emotions. Fuck!
Knocking softly, Remy waited, shifting from foot to foot, for permission to enter.
After hearing Artur’s voice, he opened the office door quietly, then slipped through before closing it.
Standing just inside the door, his eyes averted, Remy chastised himself for being weak, knowing what was about to happen was justified for his conduct yesterday.
Then, taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, looked Artur in the eye and marched over, deciding to face the firing squad with courage.
Standing in front of his boss’s desk, Remy waited, keeping his face expressionless, determined not to have another emotional outburst. When Artur began speaking, it slowly dawned on him he still had a job.
Not only that, but his nemesis, Eideard, was no longer allowed to interfere with him.
Stunned, he shook his head, not believing it, sure there must be a mistake, but when Artur finally dismissed him, sending him back to work, he realized he still had a job.
Grateful, Remy threw himself back into his work, promising himself Artur would never regret giving him a second chance.
It paid off at the end of the year when he unexpectedly received a huge bonus along with his paycheck and a note thanking him for the best year the businesses ever had.
After celebrating his good luck with his parents during a visit home, Remy decided to save it for something he might need in the future—which came sooner than he ever expected, when he received word of his parents’ death.
At least he now had enough to allow him to take custody of his brothers, secure in the knowledge he’d be able to provide for them.
Pushing aside the sadness that memories of his parents’ tragedy always caused, Remy turned back to the problem of finding the culprit causing the damage.
Unfortunately, he was at a dead end; he didn’t know any magic users he could consult and didn’t dare ask the Witches’ Governing Council for help.
If they found out that he, a low-level warlock, was raising his brothers—each of whom was gifted with strong powers, all hell would break loose.
His brothers would be removed and placed who-knew-where and he’d be given to a powerful witch or warlock to spend the rest of his life in servitude.
Think! Remy rubbed his face, trying to come up with a solution that would not put his brothers at risk.
Searching his mind for ideas, he remembered the hours he spent doing research during his years at college.
If there was one thing that came easily to him, it was that.
While his classmates groaned and moaned, Remy would silently cheer, knowing the pleasure he’d get by burying himself in the library until he was exhausted.
Determined to approach his current problem the same way, he opened his browser, typing in ‘black magic,’ and hit ‘search.’ Within seconds, a list appeared of on-line paranormal libraries he could access to find out about black magic.
Clicking on the first result, Remy began to search the site’s data base, selecting a title, then diving in, becoming totally absorbed with what he found.
Furiously scribbling notes, he moved on and repeated the process.
An hour passed, then several more, before Remy finally sat back in his chair, ready to take a small break before continuing.
“Shit, look at what time it is!” he mumbled.
Fuck! Scrolling quickly through his phone messages but not finding the one he was looking for, he called Henri.
Tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk, he waited.
When his call went to voice mail, Remy felt his gut clench.