Page 81 of Booked for Murder

I considered that. “You make a good point. I didn’t really get along with any of the attorneys, did I?”

“You liked to check your guns over while giving them a heavy dose of the eye. I thought it was funny. They did not. So, while you know the lawyer, I’m doing my sister a favor and withholding the information until he’s either signed her contract or she has married him—or both. Probably both. I’m sure you’d be invited to the wedding.”

The doubt in his voice amused me, as I could only think of a few of the Hampton’s lawyers who were scared enough of me to go out of their way to avoid me, and only one of them was anywhere near Jezabelle’s age—and the Hamptons drew lines on that subject. They preferred a spread of no more than five years, which made Daniel Jerrods the probable lawyer. “Daniel Jerrods, from a rather old and established conservative family out of Virginia. He came to New York for university and job opportunities, and he shared a few classes with you—along with an interest in cars. He’s scared of me because I’m a woman who drives better than he does, handles guns better than he does, and can use long words he doesn’t understand. It’s a curable offense. A dictionary can help him with that, although I’ll be honest, I used long, big, and scary words because it bothered him.”

“I figured as much. So, the bill leaves the playing field wide open. It could be someone who hates exsanguinators trying to get them heavily restricted. It could be one of the hate groups who wants a revamp of society to control adepts. It could be one of the hate groups who wants adepts to have more power. About the only group of people who probably have no real horse in this race is the pure mundanes. Life doesn’t change for them all that much.”

“Really?” I flipped through the sheets to get back to the table of contents, which had a section dedicated to pure mundanes. I located the three pages on them, reading through the documents with narrowed eyes.

If anything, the pure mundanes would like the bill, as it encouraged adept households to marry them through huge tax incentives. The mundanes also enjoyed significantly lower taxes due to their established disadvantages in society. Then, in a move that startled me, anyone below 20.5% enjoyed similar benefits, with a few modifications. “So, adepts who want that tax benefit might start pushing for this.”

“Right, especially since the tax benefits are pretty substantial. It would backfire on them in the next generation.”

“Their children would probably be borderline or drafted,” I guessed.

“Precisely. So, it looks good on paper until you think about the consequences. Once I started thinking through the various consequences, I realized just how nefarious this document is. I can’t even claim I like Godrin anymore after seeing what he had a hand in building.”

“Except he would have believed you might approve of this bill, as your family has a lengthy history of producing higher end adepts. Not only that, the rarity rating associated with your abilities would offer you additional protections. You would be safe from the draft in almost any circumstances. And he knew you control a for life contract.”

“Of an exsanguinator, no less. That does make me wonder, as I would bet his contribution to the bill included the exclusions for exsanguinators in for life contracts. There’s only one of them, and that’s you.”

“We’re the sharks of the magic world,” I muttered, well aware of the prejudices I’d faced growing up because my magic could kill people with a single thought from me. “The instant my ability became known, people began to fear me.”

“I don’t fear you.”

“That’s probably because your mother dropped you on your head as a baby.”

“I did no such thing,” Bradley’s mother announced from somewhere behind me. “He isn’t afraid of you because you’re a gentle giant. You just look scary. Well, unless you’re working with a gun, in which case you’re very scary. Lenard showed me footage of your shooting today. Not bad for not having worked a weapon in years. Your arm strength leaves a lot to be desired, but your lungs have to heal first. Why are you being rude about Daniel, Bradley?”

“I wasn’t being rude.”

“You were.”

“Just because I won’t go out with him for beers doesn’t mean I’m being rude. I don’t drink, Mom. He doesn’t drink, either. He just wastes a beer so he looks proper in a bar. I end up sitting in the bar with a coffee while he wastes a beer. I’m saving us both money.” Bradley scowled at his mother. “I thought you were staying in Manhattan tonight.”

“I decided against it. As I’m doing all sorts of lawyer things today, I have some proposals for you to go over.”

“I’ve been reading this bill most of the night and today when I haven’t been dancing to Lenard’s tune. Can it wait?”

“No, as it deals with legalizing Janette’s secondary identity. Most of the paperwork is done, but you need to sign some documentation to support it. Mostly, verifying statements that you ordered Janette to only return when she was in her prime, which was before several operations that may have impaired her memory.”

“Okay. That’s no problem. Is there anything else you need?”

Poor Bradley. If he’d just agreed to look at the paperwork, he might not have invited additional work for himself. The years wouldn’t have changed his mother that much, and if all she needed was some supporting documentation, she would have used the wonders of couriers, a fax machine, or email to handle the paperwork.

“As a matter of fact, yes. You’re young, single, and rich. You need to start making some adjustments to that list. As not being rich would cause you significant problems, particularly on the medical bill front, being young will take more time than you have for this discussion, you need to evaluate your stance as a single man.”

I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh at Bradley. Instead of staying quiet, I snorted. Shocked I’d broken the sacred rules of professional, I choked trying to contain my mirth, failed, and dissolved into giggles. My abused lungs complained, and I gasped for breath while fighting to regain my composure.

“You’re young and single, too, missy,” Bradley’s mother warned in her sternest tone.

It took me a minute, but I calmed myself and breathed until my chest no longer hurt. “I’m also crippled, come with extensive medical bills, and like being a librarian.”

“You can be all of those things and be young but not single.”

Uh oh. I’d signed up to be a bodyguard, and being a bodyguard involved learning when someone was up to something, and Bradley’s mother was definitely up to something, and it involved my status as a single woman. I held up a part of the stack of documents taking over my life. “I’m too busy to adjust my status as young and single. Time will adjust the young part of my status eventually.”

“It’s a few sheets of paper and a judge to correct the single portion of your status, and I would be more comfortable if all children in my household were safely married to the appropriate people. There are clauses in that bill involving married couples of the appropriate ratings.”