Yes!My mind screamed. In his day, Edison had probably just invented the light bulb. I looked over at Caden and forced myself to stop blinking like a lunatic.
“Is he serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Oscar crowed, answering for Caden. His features grew solemn. “Mind you, that is my official cause of death. The truth, my dear, would throw you for a loop.”
This was so bad! The higher-ups at Spellwork actually thought they should pair me with a dead mentor from the past? Were they insane? Trying to get me killed? Both? I dropped my head into my hands, only to jerk upright when a new realization smacked me square in the chest.
If Oscar was my guide, that meant Caden was my partner.
Sweet heavens, no.
I was afraid to ask. Avoiding eye contact with Caden, I addressed my new guide. “So, what’s his story?”
“Ah, Caden’s a transfer from the west coast division. He’s very experienced. You’ll learn a lot from him.”
“Can I see his file?”
“No!” both Caden and Oscar shouted at the same time. Only Oscar appeared flustered. Caden just appeared furious. It quadrupled my interest in his past.
Caden was definitely hiding something.
Oscar adjusted his bow tie and clarified, “Unfortunately, the file is confidential.”
Of course it was.
“Let me get this straight.” I scrubbed a hand over my face with impatience. “I, someone with literally no field training and a basic use of spells, am now partners with a man burdened by a mysterious past and a huge chip on his shoulder. My guide is a ghost from the nineteenth century, and we’re supposed to solve supernatural crime and hunt demons?”
“I don’t have a chip on my shoulder,” Caden growled.
Oscar silenced him with a look then clapped his hands together. “Close, my dear! But you forgot about Loki.”
“What? Is the dog a super-secret shifter with a sidearm?”
“No—don’t be silly! He’s our mascot.”
“Mascot?” I said in disbelief.
Oscar’s thick eyebrows drew together. “Does ‘emotional support familiar’ sound better? Either way, he’s going home with you.”
To the dorms?Loki barked at hearing his name and rose to his hind legs. The chew toy lay discarded at his feet while he basked in the attention. He rolled onto his side to expose his furry belly and stared up at me with soulful eyes.
And my head was in my hands again. Somewhere, the supernatural gods were laughing at me. They were probably placing bets on how soon I’d get myself killed.
I’ll put a hundred bucks on next Tuesday.
Disappointment wedged itself between my ribs. Dead witches didn’t earn business degrees and build their own empires. All my years of hard work and dreams . . . for what?
I should have been thrilled. This was technically a giant promotion in the prestige department, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t crushed and more than a little panicked. Ivy’s team were the best of the best. What chance did I have with a grumpy transfer, a ghost mentor, and a familiar that acted more like a puppy chasing after butterflies than a hellhound?
We were going to die . . . Well, half of us.
I cleared the tightness in my throat and squared my shoulders. “Look, I appreciate the clearly . . .”—I glanced at Oscar, who’d taken a pocket watch from his vest and had begun winding the key—“seasonedteam we have gathered here, but I’m not the right fit. There has to be somebody better trained. I can’t do it.”
“I’m afraid you’re it, my dear. We can’t just move someone else from another location.”
“They moved Caden!”
Oscar coughed. “Special circumstances. I’m sorry, but you’re the backup. You know the rules: two hunters from a single family in each generation. If you turn this down, or if something happens to you, it will be years before another chosen one is ready. The tide could turn. Evil will get the upper hand. Without you, we’re all doomed.” His voice deepened at the end as if he were narrating an apocalyptic movie trailer.
