Monster (A Cassidy Edwards Novel - Book 1) (4 page)

I didn’t answer him. Spell-finder? Definitely not in the realm of my job experience.

He didn’t notice my lack of response. He just continued. “And you’re obviously handy with a knife, but what of other skills?” His eyes glittered, turning full force on me again. “Your attack on me in the mall—what technique did you employ? I know it was an ability. I’m a warlock, after all.”

Still peeved, I shoved my knife back into my boot. “You’re mistaken. I did nothing,” I lied. I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d just been going for a snack, and he’d been a bit too tasty to pass up. “The mall was crowded. You’ve obviously confused me with someone else.”

He wasn’t buying it, but it was my turn not to care.

“It’s too late for you now,” he said evenly. “You really have no choice but to accept my protection. I’m your only sanctuary. The Terzi don’t suffer failures.” He opened a desk drawer and began shuffling through it.

I joined him at the desk. This guy clearly had a Terzi hang-up. It was a weak spot I could potentially exploit. I needed to find out more about these Terzi, but something told me it wouldn’t be as easy as an internet search.

Lucian pulled a piece of parchment out of the drawer and waved his hand across it.

As I watched, a beautiful flowing script appeared on the page as if written by an invisible hand. The writing continued line-by-line, and the page was half full before it stopped.

He had to be using mana. But strangely, again, I couldn’t smell it.

Why not?

But I was distracted from a burgeoning panic as Lucian pushed the sheet across the desk with a single finger.

I picked it up almost automatically. The moment my skin made contact, the writing began again. Entranced, I watched as my name appeared in a wobbly script completely at odds with the beautiful writing above it.

I, Cassidy Edwards, agree to a trial period of one mission
 
only
 
with the option of renewal upon completion. All expenses to be paid by Lord Lucian Rowle Industries, Ltd. and remuneration to be delivered to me, Cassidy Edwards, in the form of hitherto unknown information regarding the Chosen One named Emilio Marchesi and also substantial monies to be paid directly into an account accessible only by me, Cassidy Edwards.

Upon seeing Emilio’s name appear, I almost dropped the paper. But I didn’t. Perhaps my life wouldn’t have changed so drastically if I
had
. But call it destiny, foolishness, or both, I read on:

For said mission, I will act as the Lord Lucian Rowle’s exclusive Spell-finder and shall not engage in any other contracts until said mission has been satisfactorily executed. In return, the Lord Lucian Rowle and/or his successor(s) will offer me his/their complete protection and remuneration as described above.

There were several ink spots at the end, as if the invisible fountain pen had malfunctioned, and my name appearing on the bottom right corner was downright crooked. Next to Lucian’s magnificently swirling unintelligible scrawl, my section of the page looked like some child’s first crude attempt at writing cursive.

With a deepening frown, I quickly scanned the upper portion of the page. It was written in such complex language that it was difficult to understand.

The first paragraph stated something along the lines that Lucian would guarantee my safety from magical and bodily harm, and that he’d pay me a handsome fortune for my services.

The second, much larger paragraph was devoted to all the harm I’d suffer if I should betray the contract. I’d scarcely finished skimming over it—the words “entombed in a bottle for all of eternity with a mischievous imp” had snagged my attention—when Lucian’s nimble fingers entered my field of vision and snatched the paper out of my hand.

He eyed the thin, spidery writing in surprise. “One would think this was your first contract,” he said dryly even as his brows ascended, and his gaze focused on the part of the page where Emilio’s name had appeared. “Information,” was all he said, as if to himself.

“This isn’t binding,” I said, feeling quite wary. I felt like I’d just signed a contract with a devil—albeit a handsome one. “I never agreed to any of it.”

He actually froze for a few seconds before looking down at me through half-drawn lashes. “Nonbinding in the world of humans, yes,” he replied evenly. “But in the Charmed world, we both know better … do we not?”

Charmed world? Is that what they called themselves? Charmed? Why Charmed?

He was observing me closely as if documenting my every reaction, and I sensed I was treading on thin ice. But then, that never stopped me before.

“Well, in
my
world, I discuss the details before signing anything,” I forged ahead.

“Really? You wrote the details yourself on certified meddle-proof parchment,” his voice softened in a chilling sort of way, and his carved lips crooked into a devastatingly striking smile. “If you think to break this agreement between us, then you’re playing a dangerous game with me, Cassidy Edwards.”

“I don’t play games.” Well,
those
kinds of games, anyway. Letting anger tinge my voice, I added, “Besides, how can I trust you’ll keep your end of the bargain—especially after you entrapped me to begin with?”

He tilted his head to one side. “Why are you wasting time with this? If you truly felt that way, we both know that you wouldn’t have been able to pen your own demands in the contract,” he answered, waving the paper between us before his expression hardened and his eyes sliced through me like daggers. “As for trust,” his voice was growing deeper and louder with each word. “My name alone guarantees my word, you foolish, ignorant woman. Surely, even
you
have heard of the Rowles of Llewellyn?”

By the time he’d finished the sentence, he was thundering.

Loud voices and angry men didn’t faze me; I wasn’t the kind to get intimidated that easily. And for all his handsomeness, he was irritating me a lot now. I locked gazes with him and said dryly, “The Rowles of Llewellyn Castle?
The castle under the protection of the British Government
?”

My intention was to let him know that I wasn’t foolish or ignorant. Even though this Charmed world was entirely new to me, I’d done some research before the interview, or as much as I could do, anyway. I couldn’t really demonstrate more knowledge than that, when the internet was virtually silent on the subject.

His response was nothing like I’d expected.

Shocked—he was completely, utterly shocked. Cold fury suffused his face, the kind of fury that can create lifelong enemies and foster feuds that span generations.

White with anger and with his jawline so taut that I wondered if it would snap, he replied in a low, guttural tone, “It won’t be for long.”

Instinctively, I reached for my knives.

He didn’t miss it. Planting his palms flat on the desktop, he informed me in a voice so cold it sent a shiver down my spine, “You’re fortunate we both signed that contract before you dared to utter those words in my presence. Now, get out of my sight.”

A New Job?

So, what was so special about that castle?

Angry myself, I shoved the revolving door of Rowle Industries so forcefully that is was almost enough to shatter the glass.

I wasn’t going back; I didn’t care for the working conditions. A werewolf and a dragon for co-workers. A dangerously unhinged warlock for a boss. Did hostile work environment ring a bell?

And I didn’t care what kind of contract he’d thought I’d signed. I wasn’t going to honor it.

I stomped my way down the sidewalk. I’d splurged on a taxi earlier because I’d foolishly assumed I’d be employed the next day.

Crud. It had been a bad move.

Directing a few choice curse words Lucian’s way, I bent my back to the heat and headed for the bus stop.

I’d just sat down on a graffiti-covered bench when a white lizard zipped out from underneath it. A moment later, Tabitha sat beside me. She wore a simple white dress, and in a fluid motion, placed a well-manicured hand upon my arm in a pleading gesture.

“What did you say to him?” she asked me with an unblinking stare. “I haven’t seen him this angry in years.”

I wasn’t about to engage in friendly chitchat.

And anyway, my bus was approaching.

“I’m not interested in discussing it,” I told her bluntly.

She didn’t stop me—nor did she blink—as I boarded the bus. And by the time I’d found my seat to glance through the fingerprint-smeared window, she’d already gone.

As the bus pulled out onto the street, I inhaled deeply, relishing the various mana scents coalescing around me.

So, it was only Lucian and his crew that I couldn’t smell.

Relieved, I expelled my breath in a long, drawn-out sigh.

I supposed the afternoon hadn’t been a complete waste of time. I’d learned a Charmed world had been hiding right under my nose, a world where I could potentially find allies to aid me on my quest. Chances were that Emilio had made enemies other than myself.

I just had to find them.

Thinking of my revenge was a familiar and safe subject, and I settled into my seat, resolving to think of Lord Lucian Rowle and Rowle Industries, Ltd. no more.

My resolution lasted for about an hour—however long it took me to reach and unlock my front door.

My apartment was one of those small, dingy, one-room affairs. It needed paint and constant ventilation to keep it from smelling of pickles. The sagging blue couch doubled as a bed and served as a table for my duct-taped laptop. Two cardboard boxes housed my clothing—mostly boots. An unplugged college-dorm-sized fridge stood next to the sink with a wobbly-legged folding table propped up against it. The toilet and shower lurked behind a faded yellow plastic shower curtain.

I’d just tossed my keys on top of the fridge when a movement behind the shower curtain caught the corner of my eye.

I whirled, knife in hand, and this time, I really 
did
 let the blade fly.

It whizzed in warning, on course for the doorjamb only to stop midair, several inches from its target, and then fall harmlessly to the floor.

I stared in shock.

Had I 
misjudged the distance
? Was that even a viable 
possibility
?

Lucian stepped out from behind the curtain, pushing it aside with a single finger and a slight look of repulsion on his face. 
Swathed in a long, black cloak, he stood there, wiping his finger on a handkerchief as if he’d been contaminated by some fatal disease by merely touching my shower curtain.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you,” I bluffed, struggling to hide my dismay at my failure.

I’d never missed before. Not once. Not even as a child. My knife always found its target, even with my eyes closed.

He arched a pointed look at the blade on the floor between us.

“Please,” he said, rolling his eyes with a slight sniff of disdain. “With my wards activated, you can’t harm me—no matter how hard you try.”

Wards?

Clearly, these Charmed folk had a lot of tricks up their sleeves. They could be a problem. But then, the fact that I had a temperamental warlock standing in my apartment without my permission proved they were
already
a problem.

I was being pulled into this Charmed world whether I wanted it or not.

“What are you doing here?” I asked bluntly.

The eyes meeting mine were distant as he replied just as bluntly, “Tabitha insists you join us. An emergency mission.”

I was about to inform him that I didn’t work for him when he tossed a manila envelope onto my wobbly-legged table.

“What’s that?” I asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

After his tricky contract, I wasn’t so trusting of what appeared as harmless paper.

A gleam of dry humor entered his eye. “No cause for alarm, Spell-finder,” he said, his deep baritone reverberating in amusement. “It’s only your travel expenses. Passport. Amulet. Key.”

Amulet? Not your typical travel expense, but I didn’t point that out. Making my mind up, I announced brusquely, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He had to be a bit delusional if he thought I was just going to hop onto a plane and follow his orders for some unspecified emergency mission after that crazy interview.

There was nothing he could say that would make me change my mind.

The corner of his lip lifted into a mocking smile. “Then I’ll just not send Emilio Marchesi that message,” he began nonchalantly.

Yes, there was nothing that could change my mind—except that.

He knew it. From the smug smile on his face, he knew he had hooked me.

“Where is Emilio?” I asked.

Could it be, after all this time, I’d finally found a lead?

“Really, my dear.” Lucian gave a superior chuckle. “I can deliver on my side. You know who I am. But it
is
customary that you deliver on your part of the bargain before getting paid, is it not?”

I sent him a dark glare.

Was this aggravatingly sexy warlock playing with me, or did he really know where Emilio was? And did I honestly have a choice other than to trust him? At least for the moment, anyway.

“Very well then,” Lucian said with a crisp nod as he adjusted his cloak. Striding to the door, he paused and, turning back, added, “Now that things are cleared up between us, I expect the contract to be followed to the letter. The plane leaves in four hours. Be there on time. I detest waiting.”

And with that, he was gone.

I hurried after him, poking my head out the door to look both ways up and down the street, but the only moving thing I saw was a small black cat slipping over the chain-linked fence across the street. Was it his?

I swore under my breath.

Yeah. His visit had really cleared things up. I wondered if all warlocks were as vague, devious, and supremely irritating, or if Lucian had cornered that market all on his own.

Returning to my apartment, I eyed the manila envelope with suspicion. It didn’t smell unusual, but then, I didn’t really expect it to. I’d never smelled mana on inanimate objects before.