He grabbed a bag of frozen peas and lay out on his couch just as his phone began to ring. "Hey." He says. It was hiscoworker Lauren with whom he had become somewhat friends since he started working at the spa.
“Get better by the weekend.” She blurted.
“Why?” The word came out more as a groan when he snagged his split lip on the frozen bag of peas.
"There's a job at the Massey estate for which Margaret is filling spots. She's going to need several massage therapists for the day." Shae instantly started laughing and released the expectant breath he'd been holding. "Why are you laughing? Lauren asked, a little peeved at his dismissal.
"I'm the last person Margaret is going to invite to some posh spa party. No one gets punched in the face as much as I do, and she is not going to risk me saying or doing something that will make her look bad." He paused and thought briefly about the potential money to be made, but it was beyond him. He wasn't going to a party at the Massey estate. The very thought had him laughing again.
"I heard what happened this afternoon. That client has always been a lot to handle. It wasn't your fault, Shae." Lauren tried to ease his upset, but this wasn't the first time a client had issues with him.
It was a struggle for Shae to monitor his mouth, and his observations were not always appreciated. He never meant to insult, but sometimes it just came out wrong. He also tended to be rougher than other therapists; he wasn't trying to hurt anyone, just giving his best. But, like his observation, his best was not always appreciated. He was loved by the construction workers and the grandmothers who preferred deep muscle restoration.
"I think she's scrambling for enough staff, so you might be asked." Lauren persisted, so Shae just went along with her. "Be well and ready by the weekend."
“I will.” He says.
"How is your face? I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner." She sounded contrite, and it sounded genuine.
"Bruising around my eye, but not too bad, and my lip is still bleeding, but I heal fast, so I should be good by the weekend."
“If not, I can help you cover it up. I’m pretty good with concealers.”
"Thanks, I'll let you know." Shae was pretty sure Margaret wasn't going to include him on the staff for the Massey spa day. But Lauren had such a rosy outlook on life, he hated to be overly negative with her.
"It'll be great, and we'll have such fun and make massive tips." She continued in her delusion, but Shae remained as supportive as his toxic honesty would allow. Following his call with Lauren, he got up, made himself some soup and tea, and settled on the couch in front of his television for the rest of the evening.
***
“The luxury retreat is organized, and all is ready for a nice and relaxing experience.” Williams, Jarod Massey’s assistant, reported and waited for a follow-up.
“I want a private massage at the end of the day, and I want to be completely unbothered until that time. Do you understand me?” He was very clear.
"Yes, sir. The workers being brought in will be kept from the main house, as will the staff that is being recognized for theirefforts on the Lowlands development project." Williams told him.
“They are being recognized for far more than their efforts.” Massey laughed and took a drag on his fat cigar. He only smoked them because his father used to and he liked the power that it implied.
“Mr. Owens has also requested a late-night massage.” Williams kept a straight face, but Massey barked a laugh.
"Of course he did, Owens, asking for the prettiest to come to his room, I assume."
“Yes, but also he wants her to be a very good masseuse as well.” Williams couldn’t hide his smile this time.
"Yep, he wants the whole package. Me, I just want the package." Massey slapped his desk and dismissed his assistant. The spa day, as it was being dubbed, was not his idea, but it brought together a group of people who would otherwise be difficult to pull together, so it served the purpose.
CHAPTER TWO
It was thirty minutes before dawn, so time was running out. Torin stood in the shadow of the old building, waiting. The subject was approaching, and Torin's patient calculation was about to pay off. He'd surveilled this man for the past week and knew his habits and schedule. This was his opening: solitude, darkness, and the ease of approach, all coming together for success.
The man moved past him, and in a move composed of speed and silence, Torin locked his arm around the man's neck, slit his throat, and plunged the dagger through his heart to the hilt and twisted. He held him for several seconds as death took over and then let him drop to the marble floor.
Torin tapped his fingers, and what some refer to as dust of the Shadow Demon, scattered over the body of the dead man, and he promptly disappeared. It wasn't dust; it was dark magic, not evil dark magic, but rather ancient, unforgiving dark magic. There was a difference: one was bought, and the other was inherited over many generations.
He was wiping the blood from his hands when his phone vibrated. He checked it and answered. Killian only called whenhe had a job for him, and Torin was always in the market for another assignment.
***
It was a shocker, but on Friday, as Shae was finishing with his last client, Margaret cornered him in the breakroom and asked him to work Saturday at the event at the Massey Estate.
