My lips parted at his ominous prediction.Doomed?
Caden pushed off the wall and stalked across the room. “Way to sell it, Oscar. You shouldn’t have led with the weight of the world being on her shoulders. I think you made her catatonic.” He kneeled in front of my chair and waved a hand in front of my face.
“I’m not catatonic,” I snarled, catching his smirk when I swatted his hand away.
“Then what are you, Graves?” He cocked a brow. “If it’s the training you’re worried about, I’m the best instructor there is. I can whip you into shape. If it’s the magic, you’ll be happy to learn this job comes with a few upgrades.” His eyes narrowed on mine, delving deep, searching for a spark I wasn’t even sure was there. He chuckled under his breath, pinpointing my vulnerability. Somehow, he had an uncanny ability to know right where to hit to make it hurt. “Or maybe you’re right. Maybe someone who’s always stood in Ivy’s shadow doesn’t have what it takes.”
A gut punch.Maybe I didn’t. But Ivy’s shadow was gone now, leaving me standing in the spotlight. Whether I liked it or not, there was no place for me to hide. Even if I turned this job down, our enemies would hunt me. There was no witness protection program for witches. And even if there were, the kind of shop I wanted to open would require big, splashy marketing. An influencer or two. I wouldn’t be keeping a low profile. If I wanted one dream, I’d also have to live the nightmare.
Go big or go home, right? Well, not home, but to some off-the-grid bunker where there were no taco stands or streaming services. If those were the options, I might as well go big.
I leaned forward, locking my gaze with Caden’s. His harsh words may have lit a fire in me, but I had a little fire of my own. “Did I say you had a chip on your shoulder? I forgot to add you’re also an arrogant jerk. Count me in.”
He angled his chin in a slight nod. I couldn’t tell if he was relieved to have convinced me or cursing his luck. If I had to guess, I’d go with the latter.
“Excellent!” Oscar floated away from the hearth and resumed his spot behind the desk. “Now that we’re settled, we have a few things to discuss regarding your newly gained position. We’ll start with your duties and then move on to weaponry. Caden, the scroll, please.”
I sighed and reached for the boot I’d dropped next to my chair. Wincing, I slipped my bruised foot inside while Caden rummaged through papers on the desk. My back ached from my fall, and my head ached from our conversation.
“It’s not here,” he said, checking through the documents a second time.
“It’s not? That’s strange . . . I wonder—”
“It’s fine. I know what my duties are,” I interrupted. “I may not have experience in the field, but I read the books the council sent me over the years. All of them.” I ticked the duties off on my fingers. “The chosen hunter shall investigate all instances of supernatural crime and use her skills to rid the area of any offenders. Basically, I send evil back to where it came from without letting the general population in on the secret. The Spellwork Organization has divisions located around the globe. It is a time-honored, essential position that keeps the balance between good and evil squarely in the good box.”
“Jeez, Graves, did you memorize the handbook?” Caden joked.
Oscar played with the ends of his mustache and nodded. “That sums up the position. You know, it’s nice to have a reader on the team. Someone who pays attention to documented history. There’s a lot you can learn from books. The mind is an excellent weapon.”
“Yes, books are the perfect weapon for what we’re dealing with. We can just throw them at the demons.” Caden crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.
“Speaking of weapons!” Oscar drifted toward an old cabinet standing against the wall. It was a least six feet tall, with glass panes revealing shelved bottles of liquor. “This way, please. Follow me.”
His translucent form glided through the glass, disappearing behind the wall. Loki charged after him, yelping as he leaped through the cabinet.
“He knows we can’t do that, right?” I pushed out of my chair and limped toward the cabinet. Inside, the liquor bottles were covered in a thick layer of dust. They hadn’t been touched in ages. I opened the glass door and pressed against the back of the cabinet. If there was a hidden panel back there, it didn’t move.
I shouted inside the hollow space, “Oscar, how do we get inside?”
Oscar’s face poked through the wall, inches from mine. “Use the lever.” He disappeared again, but his voice echoed behind him. “I count the bottles, my dear, so don’t get any ideas. Some of those are hundred-year-old scotch.”
I rolled my eyes and searched for the lever. All I got for my effort was dusty fingers and the urge to sneeze.
Caden moved behind me. I felt the heat from his body and tensed as a little tingle of energy passed between us. His hand brushed my side. I jumped involuntarily, cursing under my breath from my awkwardness.
“Relax, Graves. I’m just going for the lever,” he murmured. “Hunters are usually less jumpy.”
“Yeah, well, I’m new at this.” Something clicked beneath his hand, and the shelves swung inward, revealing a dark, gaping hole.
“After you.” He gave me a little nudge into the dark.
“Gee, thanks, partner.”
“Anytime. Afraid of the dark?”
“Not at all. I just don’t want you to trip.”
He chuckled low in his throat as lights flared to life in front of me. Sconces hung on the walls, and the room looked straight out of medieval times. Flames flickered, illuminating a wooden table and an empty iron rack. There were no windows. Cobwebs stretched over the items lying in a row on the table.
