And if a nudge from Amaranthe was required to push Melissande toward the dark in order to save her mothers sanity, then so be it.
She glanced to the big-screen TV that hung on a black wall. She shook her head. She wasnt much for mindless entertainment. And the books...
The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. She read one of the spines. The man is uptight. But a cute uptight. And what a swing hes got.
Watching him wield the club against the harpie had almost distracted Melissande from the spell. Well, actually it had distracted her. Otherwise, the harpie would have been banished to Faery, and not...dead.
She deserved it, Melissande muttered. Cant have harpies flying about Paris all willy-nilly.
Bouncing up to her feet, she ran her fingers along the wall opposite the bed, then opened a door, which she assumed was the closet. A press of the light switch at shoulder level flicked on an overhead row of fluorescent bulbs. She leaned in and peered down the long stretch of closet, which was a small room lined on both sides with immaculate shelves and clothing hung and spaced precisely. Everything was neat as a pin. And all in blacks, grays and whites.
A hint of cherries and tobacco tickled her nose. Mmm...he smelled so good.
Unable to resist the adventurous call to explore, she ventured inside.
Tor thanked the interviewer for his time and ensured him he was on call for an in-person follow-up.
Well call you soon if interested, Monsieur Rindle.
Youve got my number. Merci.
Tor signed off from Skype and sat back, clasping his fingers behind his head. A smile was irrepressible. Hed aced it. He could win this jobif the in-person interview went well. Which it would. He was experienced in human relations, having worked spin for The Order of the Stake. The only difference was hed be talking about human issues to humans. He could do that. He had no doubts about his qualifications, and had successfully bluffed his way through the real-world applications parts.
As was necessary to any sort of spin job, he knew how to take rotten lemons and make spectacular lemonade.
Closing the laptop, he hummed a few bars from They Cant Take That Away From Me and performed a side-to-side then forward swanky dance step into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Perrier. He drank half and set it on the counter. The day had taken a turn. It hadnt started out all that swell, with a tea hangover and the harpie attack. All because of the
The witch. Hed forgotten about the witch in his bedroom.
Loosening his tie and humming his way down the hallway, Tor felt a new enthusiasm for this unexpected protection job. The witch needed his help. He was the man who could help her. It would be his last hurrah before entering the corporate realm of humans and all things mundane.
Opening the bedroom door, he stepped inside to find...no witch.
Hmm... To his left, the closet door was open. Had he forgotten to tell her not to touch anything? He never overlooked the details most important to him.
Tor stepped into the closet. Im finished
The witch, who stood at the end of the closet, turned abruptly, her smile exaggerated and her shoulders to her ears. She wore one of his vests over her red blouse. One of his black silk ties hung loosely about her neck. And in her hand was one of his fedora hats.
Oops, she managed.
Aghast, Tor took a moment to settle his sudden need to shout an oath. He put up a hand. I dont even want to know. He truly did not.
He had to force himself to leave the closet, butOkay, wait. Turning to face the witch, he planted his feet and crossed his arms. I really do need to know.
Melissande carefully placed his hat back on the shelf and made a point of aligning it as neatly as it had originally been placed.
Why are you in here? he persisted. Wearing my things? Are you...mentally unbalanced?
She gaped at him. I got bored. I dont do TV, and I wasnt interested in your literary choices. And I figured if I worked some magic, it could get noisy. And you did reprimand me to be quiet.
I dont reprimand
Oh, it was definitely a reprimand.
So you decided to try on some of my things as a means to...?
Im a curious person, she defended herself. And your clothes smell good. Cherry and tobacco. Like you, I presume. But I cant imagine that you smoke. Thats not very attractive. Speaking of, you are much more attractive than Id expected.
Than expected? He had to ask. She had a way of teasing out his curiosity.
Sure. I thought youd have a gimp eye or, at the very least, a scar. You know, with the kind of work you do.
He really did not know, and if he thought about it too hard, he might go down the path she followed. And that scared him more than a raging demon or a squawking harpie.
Melissande tugged the tie from her neck, and he rushed to grab it.
Ill take that. He carefully folded it and placed it in the open tie drawer. A few adjustments to the other ties shed obviously touched and moved out of order were necessary. Im sorry. The interview went long. The rest of the day Im all yours. In fact, we need to sit down and discuss a game plan.
Good idea. But Im hungry.
Of course you are, you harpie-banishing, vest-wearing witch. Lets just get that vest off you...
He helped her slip off the vest, and as he did so, Tor drew in the lush scent of her dark hair. Like lemons, but sweeter, almost candy. It was surprising how the scent attracted him. When she turned to give him an inquiring look, for a moment their faces were but inches apart. Exceedingly intimate. And...he had but to move his hand an inch to touch her hair...
Right. Tor backed away and hung the vest to distract his straying thoughts. Why was he so confused about whether to reprimand or kiss her? I keep some prepared meals in the freezer. You might like the poached salmon mousse.
Sounds futuristically unappealing, but Im in. She marched out of the closet, leaving him in her lemon-scented wake.
She was a handful of kooky and strange, and she annoyed him in virtually every way. Trying on his clothes? He closed the tie drawer carefully. And yet he couldnt think of a single reason to push her out the door and wash his hands of her crazy. So for now, hed play along.
At the very least, she was entertaining.
Chapter 5
If that was a job interview, Mel said while prodding at her microwaved dinner, Im guessing its not your usual protection and cleanup work?
Its a one-eighty turn from what I usually do. A job in an accounting firm. Completely normal. Tor had finished his meal and was cleaning the plastic bowl for the recycle bin beneath the counter hed pointed out to her.
Huh. But you do what you do so well. I dont understand why youd want another job.
I need normal. And lets leave it at that. Deal?
If thats the way you want to play it. Do I have to stay here while youre protecting me? The meal hed taken from the freezer and reheated in the microwave was supposed to be some kind of wild-caught fish-mousse thingy with lemon sauce on green beans butugh. Dont you ever eat fresh food?
Thats fresh. The chef delivers it frozen. No time to cook, and I eat out a lot. Lots of fresh choices that way.
Depends on where you eat. I need to go home this evening and pack some stuff if you expect me to stay here. Not to mention bring along half my fridge. A witch cant survive on tough beans and rubber fish.
She shoved the food tray forward, finished. Hey, shed given it a shot at least.
Tor took it and, using a brush, began the same meticulous cleaning under the running sink water. As protector, I follow you, he said. If you need to go home, thats where I will go. Ill be the one who packs some things. And once youre home, you can add a cloaking spell to that thing. He nodded to the plastic container sitting at the end of the counter. Apparently whatever ward you put on it
I only had time for a quickie ward before the harpie flew in.
The heart didnt glow now. Through the pink plastic, it merely looked like a hunk of meat. Which was odd to Melissande. The artifact was the real heart taken from Hecates chest. But when she touched and held it, it felt like glass, save for its rubbery texture. If it needed cold storage and might get stale on her, she had better not only cloak the thing but perhaps also keep it on ice.
She sniffed the air, but didnt notice a rancid smell. Thats a good idea. A cloaking spell will enhance a ward. But Ill need Bruces help since Im still new to dark magic. Such skills are a lifetime endeavor. Its always a learning process, no matter the magic a witch practices.
Does the floatinger, levitating frog help with your spells?
Of course. He is my familiar, she stated as if he should know better.
She slid off the stool and grabbed the heart. Lets head out. Im hungry, and Ive got some fruit salad at home with my name on it.
Let me grab a few things before we leave. Wont be but a few minutes.
The man strolled down the hallway back to his bedroom, whistling as he did so. He had a long, easy stride that spoke of confidence. Something Melissande was always unsure she possessed. And that was the paradox of it, wasnt it? If you werent sure you had it, then of course you didnt.
Hugging the plastic box to her chest, she wandered down the hallway, cringing only a little that earlier hed found her wearing his clothes. Everything had smelled like cherry tobacco. It was a deep, heady scent that had lured her to sniff his clothing. And wearing him on her had allowed her to submerse herself in his world. To feel, for a moment, what it must be like to be Torsten Rindle, stylish protector against all means of evil. She bet not a lot of slayers or cleanup professionals could work the bespoke suit like he did and still manage to take out the enemy with such skill.
Tor must have plenty of enemies. She hoped he didnt consider witches enemies. A man like him must work for all breeds and species, so hopefully he didnt discriminate. Yet if he did not, that could also imply he didnt discriminate when it came to slaying one.
Peeking into his bedroom, she spied him zipping up a small bag. He startled at the sight of her. Oh. Uh... He glanced to the open closet door.
That mans closet was a fashionistas wet dream.
I, uh...was thinking I should arm myself with a few extra weapons before leaving.
Sounds like a plan. She remained in the doorway.
Tor stayed by the bed, peering into the closet.
So? she prompted.
He pointed toward the closet, then smoothed a hand down his tie.
You keep weapons in your closet? she guessed. I didnt see any when I waswell, you know.
My closet is a sort of personal stronghold to me.
Where you keep all things most important to you.
He winced. Its not so much thatgive me another few minutes. He strode into the closet.
And Melissande followed.
I said to give me a few, he insisted as he spun to stand before a small panel on the wall hed opened. She hadnt noticed that when shed been in here earlier.
You have a secret weapon stash? She slipped around him and studied the panel, which consisted of a few round buttons. What does the red one do? Sound the alarm? Send out the hounds? Alert the dragons?
Tor sighed and gripped the little door that had concealed the buttons. It reboots the system should an electrical failure occur due to lightning or power outage.
Oh. Melissande dropped her shoulders. Sounded a lot like her place. It was an old house in desperate need of new wiring. There wasnt a storm that occurred that did not leave her sitting in the dark, from a few minutes to hours. Not that she minded. Candles were always better than electric lighting. So show me. Oh, come onits not like I dont already know your secret identity.
My secret Shaking his head, Tor pressed the topmost button, and the panel that displayed his ties in neat rows swung open. Inner fluorescent lights flashed on to brightly illuminate another room. He waggled an admonishing finger at her. No touching.
She sighed dramatically, then conceded with a nod and followed him inside.
This secret closet was as big as the clothes closet. The longest walls, parallel to one another, were covered with a mosaic of weapons. Melissandes jaw dropped as she swept her gaze over pistols, rifles and semiautomatic weapons in all sizes and calibers. The knife section boasted the smallest pocketknife to a machete the size of a mans arm. Garrotes were neatly coiled and hung with precision on the gray microfoam-padded wall. Dozens of wooden stakes were neatly stacked on the marble counter. An entire section featured vials of what she assumed were either spells or vile concoctions designed to injure or even kill. The vials with crosses etched onto the glass must be holy water.
Behind her, Tor took down a handgun and checked the bullet cartridge. You will not tell anyone what youve seen in here.
Of course not. She ran her fingers over the smooth matte-black finish of something that resembled a rifle but could also be a crossbow. She wouldnt have the first notion what to call all these weapons, let alone gossip about them.
But thinking about gossip...she really needed to get together with the girls and tell them about her studly new protector. Tuesday was living with the handsome vampire Ethan Pierce. And Zoe had been shacking up with the gorgeous slayer Kaspar Rothstein for years. It was high time Melissande got to brag about a sexy man.
But first she needed a better reason to brag than that she was paying him.
Can you not touch?
Of course I can. I mean, cannot. She pulled back her hand and watched as Tor fit a knife in the inside pocket of his suit coat. A box of shells and another Order-of-the-Stake-issue stake were grabbed and tucked away in various pockets or loops on his attire. What is everything for, exactly?
Vampires, werewolves, demons.
Mermaids?
I have a suffocating lariat should I encounter a vicious mermaid.
He ran his fingers over a small iron sphere that had spikes coming out of it.
Whats that for? she wondered aloud.
Dragons. They need to swallow it, and itll explode in their gut. Messy.
Wow. Melissande had never seen a dragon. He lived an exciting life. Gossip-worthy, even.
Faeries, he recited as he moved his gaze over various weapons. Reptilian-shifter. Angel. Kitsune.