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“I can’t believe you gave that woman my job.” Bailey stabs his thick fingers at my phone’s screen.
“It wasn’t your job anymore.” Lynch leans his head back against the chair and closes his eyes. “Get over it.”
I walk over to Bailey and snatch my phone from him before he breaks it. Like a child, I’d waved the shiny in front of his face to keep him entertained and out of Lynch’s hair during the press conference.
Now I regret it when I see the low battery message flash just as it dies.
Disbelief fills me as I stare at the black screen. “Have you no impulse control?”
Bailey juts out his chin. “Hey, if you guys had just gotten me a charger, I wouldn’t need to borrow yours.”
Annoyance flashes through me as I stride over to my bag to dig out my charger. With Bailey’s penchant for stirring up trouble, we had limited his access to social media, which means he makes his boredom everyone else’s problem.
Plugging my phone in, I glance over at Lynch, who seems to be barely holding himself together. He rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly.
With his distraction gone, Bailey directs his full attention on the older man. “You don’t even care, do you?”
“Not now, Bailey.” Voice strained, Lynch massages his temples.
I ignore them and stride to the windows, peering out into the woods, looking for danger.
Neither man is in a good mood. The single cot in the corner offers no privacy to rest well, and tempers are short.
I’ve grown to value my time, and these long days of babysitting humans have disrupted the patterns of my life and stalled my ability to be creative.
While my imps can do a lot for my clients, they can’t make the designs or add the final touches that my customers have come to expect, and I’m impatient to return to my shop.
Just one more day. I repeat the mantra as I move to the next window. One more day before life returns to normal.
As I cross the cabin, my gaze catches on Lynch. Pain tightens the man’s sallow face. “Are you well?”
He shifts in his chair, grimaces, and stands. “I’m stiff from sitting for too long.”
“You should be used to it, considering much of it you did it throughout your career,” Bailey snaps.
Tension thickens the air as the two men glare at each other. I grit my teeth, fighting the desire to put Bailey in his place.
Instead, I turn my attention back to Lynch. The strain on his face and the way he scratches at the back of his neck doesn’t look good. “Let me see that mark. It’s bothering you more often.”
Bailey rolls his eyes. “Are you going to examine my ass next?”
Anger burns through me as I spin on the man. “Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.”
“I need some space.” Lynch stumbles into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
It’s the only place any of us can get privacy in this cramped cabin, and I don’t blame him for wanting to escape Bailey.
I want to escape him, too.
Muffled by the door, the sound of running water fills the room.
Bailey turns to me, lips parting, but I cut him off before he can utter a word. “Sit down and be quiet.”
He scowls but complies, sinking into a chair and crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.
I take a deep breath to calm myself as I return to the windows, checking for the black dog.
Why haven’t we been attacked? Or is the beast out there, hidden in the woods, lying in wait for us to make a mistake? If that were the case, though, the witches’ machine would have alerted us, right? It’s been silent since the last murder.
