Incident 1 Definitely Not Paid Enough for This #4
Ross tried to study what Keane was doing, but aside from the subtle flashes of light from the pencil-wand, there wasn’t much he could see with the naked eye.
He was bemused at the idea of having a ward up.
In here. The supernatural customers that came and went felt transient to him.
But the ward…that felt more permanent. It left him with some mixed feelings he wasn’t sure how to properly sort out.
Keane seemed oblivious to this. “You just have to duck in here, okay, mate? Seriously, good on ya. I’d never have figured it out on my own. Hooroo!”
Ross still only vaguely understood what had just happened. But the magician left with a happy smile and a bounce in his stride. He’d even paid for the coffee, which not all supernatural customers managed to do. Ross returned to his seat. Or he intended to until the bell above the door chimed again.
This time, he knew his guest. Glenn strode through, looking more casual tonight in a white, large-knit sweater and jeans that molded to his body.
(It was a nice body, Ross couldn’t help but notice.
Not bulky, but muscular and enticing.) The vampire gave a glance over his shoulder, looking amused, then turned to Ross with that smile turning ever so slightly dazzling.
“You did a good turn for one of mine tonight, Ross. I thank you for it. He was driving us all mad trying to figure out why his latest project wouldn’t work.”
“Yes, well, thank Annabella for volunteering me. What can I get you tonight, sir?”
Glenn leaned over the counter, those molten gold eyes of his turning darker.
This close, Ross could see that his eyes were actually ringed in dark green.
Seriously, were those contacts? Ross didn’t know how to react to Glenn, to be honest. The man seemed to have an agenda.
Every time he came in for gas, he stopped to chat with Ross.
Well, he said every time, but it had only been in the five work days of this week. Still.
Nearly purring, Glenn informed him, “You.”
“First, sir, that’s a terrible pickup line. I know you can do better.”
Caught off-guard, Glenn blinked at him, then chuckled. “Heavens, that did sound terrible, didn’t it?”
Ross had initially stiffened slightly, unaccustomed to a handsome man flirting with him.
As Glenn relaxed and stopped leaning, Ross relaxed as well.
Of course Glenn hadn’t meant it that way.
Ross didn’t expect him to. Leaning his hands against the top of the counter, Ross canted his head in challenge.
“Secondly, company policy forbids me from exchanging my blood, my soul, or my firstborn child with customers.”
Glenn regained his posture, eyes dancing with silent laughter. “Fortunately, I want none of those things. I wish for you to work for me. As a personal assistant. After seeing the assistance you rendered Keane, I’m doubly intrigued. Annabella swears by your skills.”
“My skills being that I can face the shocking without flinching?”
“And handle it superbly.” Glenn gave him a wink.
Was this flirtation? Or charm? Ross was hardly ever on the receiving end of either from a man, so he really couldn’t say. “Do you mind my asking what Keane is? I gathered a magician, but what type?”
“Wizard.” Glenn’s smile faded, morphed into something more serious and contemplative. “You really don’t know much about us, do you? But you handle whatever comes through that door so well. How do you manage?”
“Common sense. Dying art, I know.”
Glenn chuckled in the back of his throat. “Common sense, is it? Then I’m all the more intrigued.”
“I do hear some things. People stop to chat, sometimes. I heard that you and Annabella and Keane are all in the same clan, and that’s unusual. That it’s a mix of species?”
“Yes, quite so. It didn’t even start as wholly vampire, in fact. The original founding three members were vampire, werewolf, and Fae. A band of brothers, in a sense.” Glenn leaned back in, casually now, his arm resting against the counter as he closed the space between them. “That intrigues you?”
“Your clan is the only one that doesn’t routinely start fights in here,” Ross admitted. “You’re not as territorial and prickly as the others. Of course I noticed.”
“Yes, you’re an observant man, aren’t you? And kind. I hear about your kindness often.”
This was slowly starting to make more sense to Ross. That wasn’t saying much, as it hadn’t made any sense at all the start of this conversation. Ross’s understanding had risen by about ten percent. “Is that also why you’re here, talking to me?”
“Yes, in fact. Do say you’ll entertain my offer, Ross.”
“You’re not going to sound like a bad movie villain and offer me triple what I make here, are you?”
“Perish the thought. I don’t know what you earn here, to start with. Saying something like that would be terribly irresponsible.” Glenn flicked the notion away like a fly.
Ross reminded himself sternly that he shouldn’t like the man. That road was definitely paved with all sorts of regrets. “I agree. Almost as irresponsible as trying to scout a man when you have a limited idea of his skills.”
“Hmm. I see you will not be tempted so easily. I do prefer a good pursuit. Very well, I’ll leave you my card.
I’ve written the details of your employment on the back.
Call me with questions.” Glenn slid the business card across the counter.
Then he seemed to rethink that and looked around more seriously at the ward.
It wasn’t something Ross could really see. It was more like a shimmer, right at the corner of his eye. He could almost see it before he turned his head. But apparently Glenn could see it quite clearly, and he examined it with pursed lips.
“Do try to stay behind the counter as much as possible,” Glenn counseled. “Keane did good work here. It’s solid and will offer you protection. Even if a fire erupts, or a thief comes to rob you, this ward will protect you. And if that trouble comes, call me.”
Ross intended to call him on the twelfth of never. Possibly right after the Apocalypse but not before Armageddon. “Thank you for the advice.”
Glenn was graceful in his retreat, Ross gave him points for that. He did wish the vampire would stop, though. At least, he was quite firm on that until he looked down at the card.
Glenn Moran ó Riagáin, Clan ó Riagáin, Clanmaster.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Glenn was the clan leader?! Well no wonder the man oozed charisma.
In something of a daze, Ross flipped over the business card and read the terms printed neatly on the back.
Flexible schedule. $75,000 salary a year, plus compensation for overtime. Full benefits with an insurance company and package of his choice. House and board provided for the length of employment.
Damn. He’d just had to go and make it tempting, hadn’t he?
Ross might have considered the terms over the top. A too-good-to-be-true. Except he’d worked here for eight months and had a rather good grasp on the idiosyncrasies, absurdities, and challenges that would come along with the job of wrangling a whole clan of supernats.
Yeah, the offer sounded just about right. Ross shoved the card into his wallet. Because he didn’t want to think about it. And he didn’t want anyone else to find it. It could hardly be found by someone else in his wallet, correct?
It was fine. He’d turn down Glenn properly next time.
Ross cleaned the spilled Icee from the floor, the mop making rhythmic squeaking sounds as he swiped it back and forth.
It was the last of the cleanup for the drink section, although how he’d explain the damaged ICEE machine to the owner was another thing.
Ross assumed she knew of the supernatural, but he’d never been able to get the woman to confirm it.
His boss seemed perfectly willing to pretend ‘normalcy’ was actually a thing.
Ross generally humored her and phrased things in such a way to go along with the white lie.
The job offer Glenn had extended to him five days ago still burned in the back of his mind.
Ross wasn’t sure what to do about it. He knew what he was doing now wasn’t working.
He’d never get through school at this rate.
And honestly, working here felt confining.
Some nights—like tonight—it felt like a battlefield.
Ross knew he didn’t want to stay here. But was taking the job offer Glenn handed him the better option?
On the surface, it certainly looked that way.
Ross would have a good income. He could move out of his brother’s apartment into his own place, and finally have the ability to tackle college again.
But that was assuming working for Glenn gave him time to pursue an education.
Would it? Seeing how much help/trouble supernats could be on a regular basis, would Ross have that kind of luxury?
The problem was, he didn’t know enough about how the clans operated to really have an answer to that question.
The bell above the door let out a chime, bringing Ross’s head around.
Annabella waltzed in with Glenn, for once coming in together.
They took in the dented machine, sitting slanted on the counter like a shorter, sadder version of the Tower of Pisa, and their reactions were instantaneous.
In a second, Glenn was at his side, his fingers light as he touched Ross’s chin and shoulder, looking him over with concern.
“You’re well?”
The suddenness of Glenn’s concern flustered Ross for a split second. Since when did Glenn—or Annabella for that matter—feel such attachment to him? “I’m fine. It was a stupid fight.”
Glenn stopped touching him but didn’t step back, looking over the scene with a visible tic near his eye. “Oh?”