Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
A meow roused me from the depths of a dream where I wandered in lush green gardens sniffing delicate flowers. I startled awake as a large tabby cat pranced over my chest before plopping down beside me. It began to purr. “Well, hello there,” I said, stroking its silky caramel brown fur.
Pushing tangled hair out of my face, I grabbed my cell. Nine hells, it was Tuesday. I was supposed to be at the Save-Mor in twenty minutes.
I lifted the cat’s tail. Fixed boy cat. Excellent. I wondered what his name was as my apartment blurred into focus. My headache was at a mild throb, but I wasn’t dying. I sat up and brushed cheddar cracker crumbs off my black skirt, then checked under my shirt for gaping holes in my side.
Nothing. Not bleeding either.
Something was going well.
I inhaled the aroma of a fresh vanilla clove candle.
My apartment was the same, but I must have dropped a couple of bills at the local discount stores on the framed prints of forests, a new fuchsia-colored throw, a pink furry rug, and a black velvet ottoman.
In the corner beside the chair I’d swiped from my aunt’s house, before the creditors auctioned everything, was an elaborate cat tower with a little plaque, Clove’s Roost . I chuckled.
“Good morning, Clove,” I said, giving him a long head-to-tail pet. I’d always wanted a cat. He flipped over, and I rubbed his belly.
So maybe not completely in debt? Cool. The phone on my nightstand was a newer model, and it wasn’t cracked. I’d missed two calls. One from someone called Dennis and one from Gentry.
Holy crap, Gentry was alive.
Okay, first things first. I scrubbed my face with my hands, and my palm came away streaked with blue.
Whoa.
I dashed into the bathroom. The tiny scratch on my cheek was bleeding—BLUE blood.
Not human.
That echoed in my head. So things weren’t quite basic new-normal. I was Eim descended? Or changed by Agatha? Or different in this timeline?
Back in the main room, I surveyed my decorating.
I liked the new vibe of the place. Cozy.
I eyed the phone, wondering what Gentry’s situation was.
First, I changed my clothes, cringing when I put on the ugly red Save-Mor shirt.
Why couldn’t an alternate Harlan have found another decent job?
I grabbed the phone, then picked up my leather jacket off the chair. On the seat was the family album.
I rummaged in the jacket pockets and the shock of pulling out the ring was like the best birthday and the worst Christmas gift all in one.
The uncracked red stone was dull and lifeless.
Was that good? Goddamn it. Now I was the keeper of two artifacts?
The marble would be gone forever now, but where was Wald?
That I would figure out after work. If I was later than fifteen minutes, my boss would start deducting it from my paycheck. No matter how much had improved, I still lived here—which meant I wasn’t rolling in money yet.
With the phone squished between shoulder and ear, I called Gentry, while setting out fresh food for Clove in the immaculate kitchen.
The call connected. “Auntie Harlan, it’s about time.” Auntie? Gentry’s gruff voice filtered through me like bubbly wine. I mean I hated the bastard, but I’d never wanted him dead.
“You sound happy. How’s the Molly tonight?” I asked, playing along.
“You know I don’t touch that stuff anymore. Just get your butt over here. I have a job for you.” A baby cried in the distance.
My heart sang. The visit to Britannia’s past must have paid off. “I’m late for work. Is your sweetie there?” I had no idea if they’d gotten married.
“You mean Brit? She’s at the hairdresser.”
“Any idea where her brother is?” My heart did hopeful push-ups.
“Why?” he asked, and I could hear the suspicious narrowing of his eyes through the phone.
“I had a question for him. I’ll ask Brit later. Will you tell her to call me?”
“Why? You hate Brit.”
Crap. “You didn’t hear we made up?” Okay, so apparently we weren’t best buds. This was not that surprising. “How about you meet me at The Signet at ten tonight?”
“You know I don’t work for Tyre, but fine. I could use a boys’ night out. Wear something sexy,” he replied and hung up. Apparently, some aspects of Gentry hadn’t changed.
There was a damn good reason I wanted to go to the Signet. A dangerous, hairy, and sex-god reason. The chances of Wald being there were tiny, but it was a place to start looking, and a little part of me wanted to see Gentry in person to make sure he was really alive.
I leafed through the mail on the kitchen counter, piling the bills and discarding the junk mail.
The return address of a letter from the Provisional Licensing office stopped my heart.
In my alternate timeline, I must have sent in the application to become a private investigator. Quivering, I ripped the envelope open.
The application had been denied because of a complaint on file from a clinic. Nine hells . Britannia had screwed me. Tears burned behind my eyes. Fuck her.
My phone rang again. It was my boss, Meredith. I grabbed my purse as I answered, “Hey there, I was about to call you.”
“Where are you, Harlan?”
“I’m really, really sorry. The car wouldn’t start, and my phone was dead. Got a friend to jump it and borrowed a cable. Be there in ten.”
“You’d better be, or you’ll be looking for a new job,” she growled and hung up. She wouldn’t fire me yet. Compared to my other shift-mates, I was the reliable one.
I opened the door and stumbled over a six-pack of full beer cans topped off with a note. “You’re so sweet, H. Can’t thank you enough.” I stared at the six-pack like it was rigged to explode.
Maybe it was poisoned? Or had everything really changed? I set them inside my apartment to deal with later .
When I looked for keys, I discovered Agatha’s tarot cards in my purse. The Lovers was on top of the deck.
The tears came back, and I swiped them away, opening the cut on my cheek again. Damn it, I didn’t have time for this crap.
My cell rang again with a call from my shift manager, but I let it go to voicemail as I sprinted to the stairs. The stairwell door took two tugs to pull open. The overhead light buzzed and flickered, but the scent of clove cigarettes stabbed into me as I looked over the banister.
A pale man with a leather coat, shoulder-length brown hair, and purple lens sunglasses glanced up from the bottom. He was holding a paper bag and a cup with a straw.
My breath caught.
But Wald shouldn’t need sunglasses anymore. Something was off, or it wasn’t him.
An agent?
The man continued to look at me, his lower lip turning up on one side in a partial smile.
My heart flew like a swallow close to home.
Still not trusting my eyes, I cautiously began to descend the stairs.
At the bottom, I paused. There was something different about the way he stood.
His hair was shorter, and he’d gained weight.
“How do I know it’s really you?” I asked.
The man held out the straw cup and the bag with another signature Wald grin.
Like a feral cat, I ripped it out of his hand and then stepped back, keeping him in my sights, but ready to run. A gooey crispy grilled cheese stared back at me.
I sucked on the straw, praying it wasn’t poisoned.
Chocolate malt.
But maybe an agent could read my mind too ?
“Okay, solid start. But how do I know it’s you?” I set down the bag and the malt.
He shifted. “Should I have brought bourbon with cherries instead? Or were you hoping for a mask? I have one in my pocket.” The R’s and S’s rolled and purred in all the right places.
I landed on his chest, my arms lacing about his neck as his musk buffeted around me.
“Any more questions, Tails?” he purred into my hair, his tongue darting out to lick the wound on my cheek.
“Why are you wearing glasses? Take them off,” I whispered, swooning to the effects of his healing saliva.
He swiped them off, his amber-brown eyes meeting mine.
The kiss exploded between us like an entity eating us from both sides. My desire to crawl inside him was mirrored by his hands sliding under my shirt.
Maybe the whole time reset had actually worked in my favor? Could something be going right for once?
Breaking the kiss, I tugged Wald up the stairs. “Come with me. I have things to do to you.”
“Are you reading my mind now?” Wald replied with that raw edged voice tremoring through me as he captured my lips again. If this didn’t stop, I’d be ripping off his shirt in the stairwell.
I dragged him after me. We were going to my apartment to find out exactly what had and hadn’t changed.
If things were as I’d hoped, we’d be ordering in lamb curry and more grilled cheese and having a Tarantino and film noir marathon because I had no intention of allowing Wald to leave my bed for the next millennium.
Fuck Gentry.
Fuck the Save-Mor.
I knew the value of time, and I wasn’t wasting a second of it.