Read Enter the Janitor (The Cleaners) (Volume 1) Online
Authors: Josh Vogt
Ben looked—not cowed, but sobered. A bull who’d just been reminded of the ring through his nose. His jaw remained jutted in the face of Destin’s lecture, but the blaze in his eyes dwindled to a rebellious flicker. After half a minute, he looked aside, breaking the standoff.
“You have my approval to continue searching for the source of this disturbance,” Destin said, retaking his seat. “But for now that’s all I can offer. As soon as you provide me with evidence that I can use to convince the Board this warrants further attention, I will have a full contingent of Ascendants to back you up.” He waved a gloved hand in dismissal. “I give you leave to clear your next week’s calendar in order to pursue this concern, but don’t barge back in here until you have something concrete.”
Ben crossed his arms. “I’m a janitor, Destin. Not a pay-per-day private eye. Francis or Jack are better equipped to check up on this. Plus, neither of them are …” A glance Dani’s way. “Distracted.”
Oh, that boosted her confidence a whole ton.
“I don’t send Ascendants chasing shadows,” Destin said. “That would be a gross abuse of the power invested in them. And the more people we involve, the more chance we take in spreading uncertainty among our ranks. You can more easily maintain a low profile.”
“With this chickadee in tow? Ain’t likely.”
Dani’s fists bunched as her blood pressure rose. Chickadee? What era did this moron think they lived in? The next time he threw some sexist comment her way, she’d have to decide whether to bloody his nose or knee his crotch. On second thought, neither of those offered sanitary targets. Maybe she’d just throw something at him. Like one of the Chairman’s paperweights.
“Having her at your side will provide the experience she lacks,” Destin said. “As you are fond of saying, is not the best teaching found through action?”
“I ain’t gonna expose an apprentice to an unknown danger when she’s already dealin’ with enough as it is. You knew the risk of puttin’ her with me in the first place.”
That drew Dani’s brows and lips down. Risk? What kind of risk could the old man pose? Besides spitting or hacking on her, that is. The way he hobbled around made her afraid he’d break a hip the next time he lifted his cart.
Destin stood and came around the desk, placing himself between them. Despite only being an inch or two taller than her, his nearness made Dani feel like she’d shrunk a foot.
“I am decided, Benjamin. We each do our part in this.” He smiled at Dani, revealing clean, straight teeth. His eyes held an electric hue. “And you, my dear? How have you been enjoying your time with us so far?”
She fought to not squirm and wring her hands. She once more became aware of her myriad smells, greasy hair, and sweaty palms. How could he stand being near her? She wanted to tear her skin off and scrub herself down to the bone.
His smile widened. “Don’t fear. I appreciate honesty above all else.”
Ben snorted, but Destin remained focused on her.
“It’s been …” She swallowed again. “Messy.”
Destin’s laugh ricocheted through the room. It jolted her, bringing another wave of shame. She’d never be clean. Not on her own. She was sullied to the core, and couldn’t do anything about it.
“Is there anything I can do to soothe this difficult transition for you?” he asked.
“She misses her lizard,” Ben said.
Destin blinked. “Indeed?”
Through simmering humiliation, Dani murmured, “Just a pet. I take care of him. He’s probably really hungry.”
“While I sympathize,” said Destin, “we do not allow Cleaners to keep pets. They are often sources of pestilence and filth.”
“But …” She despised her whimpering tone. “He’s cute. And funny, and smart … and …”
Destin placed a hand on her shoulder and she flinched. Not because she disliked the touch, which felt warm even through the gloves and suit, but because she feared his palm might come away soiled.
“There is a reason cleanliness has always been close to godliness.” He kept his hand on her, rubbing a few hairs between his fingers, an oddly comforting, yet mortifying gesture. “Soon enough you will come to see the greater purpose the Cleaners can give you, and the honor it is to serve the Pantheon. A creature such as this … Tetris … would only serve as a distraction. I’m sure an intelligent woman such as you knows the many bacterial strains reptiles carry. Salmonella. Campylobacter …”
His litany sounded uncomfortably familiar, and Dani’s resistance slowly buckled under it. She bowed her head, feeling like a speck of dirt he could flick off his suit at any second. She was a wretch. How didn’t she understand before? The Cleaners had saved her from a worthless life and given her a chance to achieve true significance. They had every right to toss her aside right then, and she’d beg to be given another chance.
A tiny part of her mind raised a hand.
Excuse me? Exactly when did we become this guy’s little *****?
Indignation sliced down her brainstem and stiffened her spine. Sucking a deep breath through her nostrils, she snapped her head up and glared at Destin.
“What kind of **** are you trying to pull? I already feel bad enough, as it is. Who the **** do you think you are?”
Destin’s eyes lost their shimmer.
Ben chuckled behind her. “Good on yah, princess.” He moved between them, making Dani shuffle back. “Lookee here, Destin. It’s been a long day, a’ight? We’ll let you get back to signin’ all those big, important papers.”
Destin stared past Ben, fixing Dani with … not icy eyes, but they definitely had some slush in them. She struggled to meet that gaze, but kept glancing aside, cheeks aflame. So much for asking about the decontamination room.
Then his thin smile returned, and his amiable personality clicked back into place.
“I look forward to hearing that this problem is resolved.” He moved back around to his chair and settled in. “I am sure you won’t disappoint me.”
With that, the Chairman bent back to his papers. Ben blew him a wet kiss and headed for the elevator. Dani followed, and they rode back down to the bright hall. As they stepped out of the window and into the garage, Ben glanced at her appraisingly.
“Anyone toldja you got great people skills?” he asked. “’Cause they lied.”
“I didn’t … I wasn’t …” Her shoulders slumped. “What happened up there?”
His laugh echoed around, full of unexpected warmth. “You did somethin’ not many people can. You made Destin remember he ain’t got everyone lickin’ his shoes clean. Proud of you.”
“Proud?”
“Sure for shootin’. In fact, what say we grab a drink to celebrate?”
“A drink?”
“Yeah. Gotta wet this whistle if I’m gonna keep bossin’ you ’round. ’Sides, I need time to think.”
Dani massaged the back of her neck. Her encounter with the Chairman had left her with a slight headache. Even now she imagined his bright eyes monitoring her from an unseen corner.
A drink might not be a bad idea, after all.
***
Chapter Eight
Standing outside the bar, Ben kept one eye on Dani back over by the van. She had raided the shelves for soaps and scrubs and then worked herself into a frenzy, giving herself what amounted to a sponge bath in the parking lot. Ben couldn’t count how many wipes and paper towels she’d gone through. At this rate, he’d have to restock by morning.
Though, he supposed he couldn’t blame her, especially after a truck in front of them had belched black exhaust out of its pipes, which had wafted in through the air vents. That had nearly sent her leaping out her door into moving traffic.
“Gotta admit,” he murmured, “It’s kinda nice havin’ someone along for the ride.”
Carl spun into a testy whirlpool.
Ben patted it absently. “Aw, c’mon, buddy. You know I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just good to have someone who’s willin’ to look me in the eyes and share a drink.”
Another spritz of discontent.
“Yeah, but we both know what happened last time you tried alcohol. Took forever to get you outta the pool.” He drummed fingers on the bottle. “Destin should’ve given her to someone else, but I’m kinda glad he didn’t, despite my better judgment.”
A questioning bubbling.
“Why? I dunno. Wait, that ain’t true.” Ben tugged and pushed at the saggy skin of his cheeks and throat. “I wanna see her safe. See her through this and know she’s gonna make out it the other end with everythin’ intact. One last good thing finished before I go. One last taste of what it’s like to make a difference. For the better, y’know?”
The water elemental gurgled in reprimand, and Ben’s grin went lopsided.
“Me? Morbid? Naw. Just gotta be realistic. Ain’t you the one always tellin’ me to prepare for the worst?” He frowned. “Mebbe Francis is right. Mebbe Destin screwed the pooch on this one. At least she ain’t makin’ it easy. Gonna go out in glory or flames with this one.”
Carl splashed and fizzed.
“Heh. Yeah. She does remind me a bit of—”
“Hey, you okay?”
Ben twitched and straightened so fast his hips crackled. Dani had appeared at his side without warning. Her gloves, suit, and face gleamed like wax in the glare of the bar’s buzzing neon signs. At least her eyes had gone from deer-in-the-headlights to deer-ready-to-ram-a-semi.
He braced a hand in the small of his back and forced a grin. “Yup. Carl and I were just remissionin’ about the good ol’ days.”
“You mean reminiscing.”
“Ain’t that what I said?”
He pushed the bar door open, and a gust of stale alcohol, hot wing sauce, and grease slapped them in the face. Dani reeled, coughing, while Ben inhaled it like the perfume of a long-lost lover. Once he got a good look at the place, however, his eagerness lessened.
A subtle fog of decay spotted the place, visible only to those eyes attuned to such energies. Clumps of it lurked in the corners like sulking cats, while wisps of Corruption writhed around table and chair legs.
Beside him, Dani recovered and planted fists on slim hips as she frowned at the dimly lit interior. Neon blue lights hung over a long mirror which reflected the cherry wood bar and shelved bottles. Booths stretched along the brick walls, most of them empty and yawning like gaps in a row of teeth.
“You really know how to make a girl feel special,” she said.
Ben sniffed, trying to detect the cause of the dank odor. Did the lights seem dimmer than usual? The woodwork grimier?
“I assume you’re wantin’ a drink of your own?” he asked, shuffling in. “’Cause I ain’t sharin’.”
“Yeah,” Dani said. “I can still taste dust on the back of my tongue. But only if you’re paying.”
“On the house.” Ben waved at the bartender, who nodded back. “Did a favor for the owner a few years back. Cleaned a buncha mold outta the cellar.”
“Whoa. Mold. Scary.”
“This kinda mold ate brain tissue and made folks into hosts before we scrubbed it out. Since then, I check in once a month or so, just in case it tries to make a comeback.”
“You’re joking.”
“Too old to waste time makin’ these things up, princess. In exchange, I get a cozy place to come and churn the ol’ noggin in peace. The beer ain’t half bad either, if you ain’t a priss about it.”
“No promises.”
As they walked over to a booth, the pain in Ben’s arm ratcheted up a few notches. At the same time, the disturbance reasserted itself. Stronger now. Almost a presence.
He’d always had a hard time understanding how he sensed Corrupt energies. It was like a foul wind slapping him in the face, or like holding the positive end of a magnet while the Corrupt powers shoved his way with a negative one.
The bar looked normal. A few men mumbled in side booths. A group of leather-clad bikers laughed in a back corner over a game of cards. Solitary drinkers peered into their mugs as if they were scrying pools.
“Something wrong?”
Dani’s question made him realize he stood half-crouched, one hand on the bench he’d been sliding into. She already lounged against the red cushioning, arms crossed.
Ben sat opposite her and scanned the room again. Whatever had his instincts raring, it remained outta sight. If it was a smart little bugger, it’d stay that way.
“Mebbe,” he said.
“Okay.” She drew the word out. “Should we do anything about it?”
“Mebbe.”
A roll of her eyes. “Maybe we could try being a little more decisive.”
“Nah,” he said. “Just … stay alert. Go get yourself a drink and grab me whatever stout they have on tap while you’re at it, won’tcha?”
She saluted and murmured. “Aye, aye, cap-i-tan.”
“Cute.”
O O O
She avoided eye contact with the scruffy patrons as she picked her way over to the bar. Despite her heavy boots, she side-stepped puddles of beer, spilled condiments, and a minefield of mysterious splotches on the floor.
For a janitor, Ben sure did pick a rat’s nest to hang out in. Of course, it fit his image and personality well enough. Did the higher-ups at the Cleaners know he frequented this place? Would they approve? Maybe he couldn’t afford a tab anywhere else. Did the Cleaners offer overtime or hazard pay? She doubted it.
As she studied the place, the bartender came over and plunked his elbows down.
“What’ll it be?” His peppy tone contrasted with the rundown atmosphere.
Golden hair had been slicked back over his ears, and he wore a t-shirt printed to look like a tuxedo jacket. He had long, bare arms—shaved, she noticed—and black leather gloves on his hands. Tattered jeans and tennis shoes completed the look. Attractive in a stray puppy sort-of way. The gloves caught her attention more than anything else. Might she have a kindred spirit here, or was it just some rocker fashion statement? The thought warmed her to him a bit, and she returned his smile.
“A pint of your cheapest stout and another of your most expensive pale ale,” she said. “Put it on Ben’s tab.”
He nodded. “Saw you come in with the old man.”
“You’re the owner?”
He laughed softly, and she found herself enjoying the velvety sound. A subtle invitation lurked in there. “Sadly, no. Just a new hire. Why would you think I own this crumb-hole?” He had an odd accent, as if he’d just come from an acting class where they practiced Shakespearian theatre.
“You know Ben,” she said.
“Everybody knows Ben. At least, everybody who knows him does.”
He went to pour her drink, and she waited until he returned and slid two overflowing pint glasses her way. After cleaning off her glass with a wet wipe, she took a sip of the brew. A tingle of discomfort ran down her back as his eyes remained on her, not wavering as she set the drink down.
“What? Did I grow a third boob?”
A sheepish grin dimpled his features. “It’s simply rare for a beautiful woman to slum around here. A pity you have to share your good times with that grump.”
Dani sniffed. “Do I look dressed for a good time?”
“Sadly, no. Truth is, Dani, you look more like you just got off a rough day of work.”
Her gloved fingers tensed on the glass. “How’d you know my name?”
He looked at her left breast. Just before she backhanded him, she glanced down and remembered the name threaded on the outfit.
“Oh. Right.” She took another swig. “Yeah, really long day.”
“Want to talk about it? Bartenders are supposed to be maestros of listening.”
“Not really. Besides, it’s crap that’d make you think I was either lying, crazy, or both.”
“You don’t seem the lying, crazy type.”
“Really. What type do I seem?”
“The type who has lived her entire life behind walls and barriers—many of them you’ve erected around yourself. The type who lives in fear, worried that the smallest threat will slip past her defenses.”
She stared, drink unheeded. This had to be a practical joke. Some new employee hazing the Cleaners did. Whatever it was, she refused to let it get a rise out of her.
He grinned. “Listen to me prattle on about things I have no idea about. If I can’t help you unburden, perhaps I can provide a pleasant distraction.” He tugged off his gloves and set them behind the counter. When his hands came back up, he held a frayed deck of playing cards, which he fanned and offered to her. “Pick a card.”
“You’re a magician?”
His grin widened. “Of sorts. I promise you won’t be disappointed. Give me a chance to bring a smile to your lips.”
She squinted at him. Her earlier interest faded as his fawning comments raised more than a few warning flags. But, not wanting to go back to grousing with Ben right away, she drew a card and glanced at it. Ace of Spades.
“Now what?”
He set the deck on the bar and held out a hand. “Place it here, face down. I promise I won’t peek.”
She did so, and he sandwiched the card between both hands. A moment later, he parted them like a book to reveal empty palms. Wiggling his fingers, he drew them apart and waved them around. The card hadn’t left even a speck of dust behind.
Dani frowned. He hadn’t so much as twitched once she returned the card. Plus, he wore short sleeves, so he couldn’t have slipped it up there.
“Neat trick,” she said. “But aren’t you supposed to tell me which one I picked? Or make it reappear?”
He spread his arms and bowed, a practiced move that showed off defined muscles. “I haven’t mastered that part yet. For now, I just excel at making things disappear.” He held out his hand again. “And I’m here to offer this service to you, should you wish.”
The chill of the beer seeped through Dani’s gloves and made her shoulders tighten. “What are you talking about?”
He smirked as if it were obvious. “A woman like you hanging out with someone like that broken-down janitor? Intuition tells me this is hardly a career path you picked. You have far too much intelligence and spirit for you to willingly lower yourself to this lot in life. If you want to be free of it, I can help.”
He’d continued leaning toward her as he spoke, voice lowering, inviting her to come closer. Dani put her glass on the counter between them. A pathetic barrier, but a welcome one. His intuition told him she wanted help? Well, hers screamed for her to drop the conversation, grind it under her heel, and walk away.
“I don’t … I mean this isn’t …” She flicked her gaze to the mirror. Ben remained slouched in his seat, frowning at the rest of the bar.
The bartender chuckled. “Don’t worry about saying too much. I know all about the Cleaners and Scum. Their simplistic concepts of Purity and Corruption. The Pantheons they would delude you into worshipping as gods.” He nodded at her raised brows. “Oh, yes. I see they didn’t get to that part of the Sunday School lesson yet.”
“Like you said, I’m pretty new. But you’re not an employee, are you?”
“Hardly. You see, Dani, just because they tell you there are two sides to an issue doesn’t mean they’re right.”
“And you just so happen to know the truth.”
“I’d like to think of myself as more enlightened, yes.”
“What does your exalted wisdom have to do with me? Why—”
“Dani? What’s goin’ on?”
Ben’s call from behind made Dani realize how long she’d been talking. The bartender grinned, naked hunger in his eyes, like a wolf watching a cornered rabbit.
“I have to go.” She grabbed the pint glasses.
“Before you do,” he said, “I have one last trick I’d like to demonstrate. A conjuration of sorts, and a token of my good intentions.”
He reached behind the counter and she expected him to retrieve the card deck. Instead, Dani almost dropped the glasses when he offered her a squirming lizard. The size of her forearm, with red and orange scales, its wide belly had rows of tiny spikes down either side. It cocked one golden-brown eye at her as it wriggled in the man’s hand.
She raised her voice. “Ben? Why does the bartender have Tetris?”
“What?” came Ben’s confused reply.
“He has my lizard. Tetris!”
Scuffling indicated the janitor rushing to get out of the booth. The bartender’s face shifted slightly, as if a wax mask had melted away. While the overall features remained the same, he wasn’t the exact man she’d been talking to.
“You!” Ben shouted, not in warning, but recognition. “Get away from her!”
In a swift motion, the bartender lobbed Tetris past Dani’s head. She cried out and turned to try and catch him. She must’ve dropped the pint glasses at some point, for they cracked on the floor and splashed beer over her boots.
Tail whirling, the lizard smacked into Ben’s chest. He caught it by reflex, and it was hard to tell which of the two was most stunned.
A hand grabbed Dani’s wrist and yanked her back against the bar. The bartender twisted her arm around and locked it painfully behind her. His other hand clutched the soft skin of her throat.
***