CHAPTER 4
"Most men would gladly give their souls to the Devil were he willing to accept them."―Abraham Miller, Unmoral Maxims Being a witch wasn't easy. It never had been for Marsey. She spun in her computer chair at her desk, back and forth, back and forth, eyeing her miniature gnomes. They stared back with happy faces and mischievous grins as they stood on the top shelf in the corner of the room. Hopping out of her chair, she stood on her tippy toes and reached for the two statues. She hadn’t conjured a spell in so long. Not since she ran the Triff girl over with a golf-cart in Santa Cruz. That didn’t bid too well; Marsey got sand in her eye, and the Triff girl jumped right back up and ran off. For three years, Marsey had been chasing that girl, diving through hoops just to get her, and coming so damn close, only to scrape the girl’s knee. But Marsey was determined this time. She was not going to run back home and cry about a failed attempt. She’d stalk her prey, watch the mouse’s every move, and pounce when she had the girl right where she wanted her. There was no room for fuck ups this time. She had a deadline to make, and if she messed this plan up, her soul would be trapped in her decaying body until it rotted completely. Marsey plopped down in her chair and set the gnomes on her desk. She brushed back her platinum blonde hair and opened the top drawer. A black wand lay untouched in a glass case. She unlatched the container and carefully pulled the wand out, assessing it with her good gray eye. It was a token from her mother before she took her final breath aboard the Titanic. She traced the swirling decals etched in the magical wood, dragged her thumb along the engraved words. Twirling it in her hands, she accidentally shot a purple bolt of magic off. It hit the gnomes, and they instantly began to grow taller, their creamy skin color becoming a sick green. The gnomes had mutated into trolls with white beards and red, pointy hats. They looked at each other, then looked back at her and smiled a rotted grin and jumped at her. She high-tailed it from her swivel chair and hastily made her way for the open door. She stumbled out and slammed it shut. Drawing in a hard breath, she closed her eyes and laid her head back. And that was why she never played with her mother’s wand; the spells never came out the way she wanted them to. Either that or she set if off by mistake, screwing up a cute project and turning it into a horror story. A knife—her knife sliced through the door at thigh height, missing her leg by a centimeter. She growled in frustration as demented snickering came from behind the door. Her gray eyes rolled. She’d send in one of the cult members to deal with that. Her assistant, Amber, had been standing across the hall, eyeing the knife in the door with furrowed brows. "Another spell gone wrong?" she asked. Marsey sighed, pushing herself off the wooden blue door and nodded. "Just found out some interesting news." Amber put a hand on her hip. The black dress she wore clung tightly to her curvy form. Her black hair was pinned in a ponytail and her crystal eyes glinted with amusement. "Spill it. Good or bad?" Amber tilted her head to both sides and shrugged. "It’s bad. We, uh, kind of lost her." "Again?" Marsey fumed. "They moved for the fiftieth time. It’s not our faults you keep missing your shot." "I’ll have you know that a lot of time and planning goes into stealing someone’s body." She had to have a warlock and a soul collector, and so far she had neither. "Three years and twenty tries is more than enough." Amber paused and ran keen eyes over Marsey. "You don’t know what to do, do you?" She was quiet for a moment. “No.” She almost had Jade’s body the very first time she saw her at Len’s. Except Marsey’s men sucked at capturing eighteen years olds who do suicide dives into ice-cold rivers. If her plans had gone smoothly that night, she would’ve been sipping piña coladas in Bora Bora by now. “If I was you, I’d call the man below and ask him for a favor or two,” Amber said, twiddling her thumbs like a schoolgirl with a crush. Marsey tapped her chin with a finger. It wasn’t a bad idea. She needed the help and she wasn’t an expert on stealing souls, but that man was. She nodded. "Call him, try and find her, and tell Georgie I want a Mountain Dew.” Damian pounded his fist against the closed oak door. He squeezed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as a sick feeling bubbled in his stomach. For the tenth time, he asked himself the same question. What the hell am I doing? The door creaked open and Jason poked out his head, his eyes widening as they settled on him. “We’re leaving in an hour, I promise.” Damian’s face scrunched. The words he was about to say tasted sour. “You can stay.” “What?” “Don’t make me repeat myself.” The faerie’s face lit up with a big grin, and Dom had the urge to knock it clean off. “Wipe that smile off your face, boy.” Jason turned to stone as Damian took a step closer to him. “Understand if they mess with my shit—I throw them out. They eat the food in my kitchen that’s meant for me—I throw them out. They get in my way and I throw them out,” Damian grounded out. “Got it?” Jason gulped and nodded. “Yeah.” “And no, I’m not protecting her. You can find somebody else to do that job. You’re fucking lucky I’m letting those humans breathe in my presence.” Damian stepped back. “They are your problem. Are we clear?” The only reason he was letting them stay was to find a way to rid himself of the dreams. He figured if she disappeared again he’d be stuck with them for life. And to be honest, he’d rather be stuck with her and her sister for a few months than keep reliving the same dream over and over. For a moment, the faerie just stared at him in shock, mouth opening and shutting like a fish. “Are we clear?” he asked again. Jason blinked. “Uh, yeah, yeah, of course.” Leaving a stunned Jason in the hall, Damian made his way back to his room. Right before he reached his door, Jade came out of hers. Her black band t-shirt clung loosely to her shape and her jean shorts cut off at the knees with tattered threads hanging from them. The smell of her overwhelmed him once again, and he had to grit his teeth to control himself from the wolfish urges. For one second, she met his eyes and cringed, quickly looking away. And then he realized why—he'd been glaring the fuck out of her. But that was his normal approach to humans, and he wasn't planning on not glaring at her just because she smelled good. “He’s letting you stay?” Aidyn asked again as he pulled a blue shirt over his head. Jason took another bite of his bagel drenched in cream cheese. “Yeah, whatever you said must’ve changed his mind.” Jade washed her fork and plate at the sink, flicking a glance at the two men every few seconds. Was she eavesdropping? No. Was she being a good listener? Yes. “Pff, he told me ‘no’ and that was that.” Aidyn stood at the island, leaning on the stainless steel counter to grab one of the freshly baked croissants. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart.” Jason licked his fingers and handed his dirty plate to Jade. “Now, now, Jason, let’s not delude ourselves. Dom doesn’t have a heart.” Tapping his finger against his mouth, Aidyn seemed deep in thought. “He has a reason. He doesn’t do things that don’t benefit him.” “And how do we benefit him?” “Well, you don’t benefit anything, but” Aidyn nodded toward Jade as he pushed himself off the counter, “they’re women. There’s a lot of benefits when it comes to women, human or not.” “He better think again. He’s not touching either of them.” “Says the guy he beat the shit out of last night.” Aidyn smirked and headed for the backdoor with Jason following behind him, looking like a lost puppy. As they left, Jade rested her back against the sink counter and looked around. What the hell did these guys do for a living? With the giant kitchen made up of stainless steel and dark granite, somebody would think they were CEO’s of a large cooperation. But since the owner seemed to hate everyone, she remained completely stumped at how they managed to live this good. She glanced at the fridge. Did they have any snacks? She hated to raid their goodies, but Erica and Jason had emptied her room of every edible content—Cheetos and all. Opening the refrigerator, she studied each shelf. Beer. More Beer. Bacon. Oreos? Typical guy food. Suddenly the fridge door shut, nearly taking her face with it. Her eyes followed the large hand on the fridge door, trailing up a tattooed arm. Dom stood beside her, shirtless and in a pair of black boxers. After she was done admiring the view, she noted his dark eyes were narrowed into slits. She put up her hands in surrender and, not wanting to squeeze by him, went the long way around the island counter so that he could have the fridge all to his greedy self. His eyes didn’t move from her as she left the kitchen. With a sigh, she walked through the dining room and past the lounge. I damn sure didn't sign up for this, Jade thought as she trudged up the stairs. When she got to her room, she went inside and dropped on the bed with a huff. She covered her hands with her face. The door to the room flew open so suddenly it made her bolt upright from the bed. Jade's hand flew to her chest, and she blew out an annoyed breath when she saw that it was just Erica. "Do we have a problem?" Jade asked with an attitude. Erica grinned big as she closed the door while twirling a yellow flower in her hand. “Guess who gave me this?” "I’m assuming the cokehead did?” “I think I’m in love!" Erica threw herself on the bed beside Jade and stuck the yellow flower to her nose. “It smells like love.” “Calm your tits, woman. You just met him last night.” Her sister’s smile grew. “Well unlike some people, I believe in love at first sight.” Jade cut her eyes. “You’d have better luck kissing a toad and hoping it’d turn into a prince.” "Aidyn asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with him later tonight." Erica closed her eyes as if she was picturing the two of them together. Sometimes Jade wondered where her sister’s mind disappeared to when men were involved. “You’re acting like he asked you to marry him.” “I don’t know why I talk to you most of the time. You’re such a mood-ruiner.” Her sister prodded at the pedals with a frown. “You’re like Squidward.” “And you’re Patrick,” Jade said, staring at the ceiling. A young man stood in the doorway of Marsey’s office. His dirty blonde hair had a cow-lick, and his barely-there mustache was crooked. The hollows of his cheeks were sunken in, and his pale skin was pouring sweat. “We need you to sign the papers for the new leadership building.” Marsey blew out a breath and sat back in her chair. “No, the cult’s staying here for this one.” “But Pastor George said—“ “Screw what Georgie said. You guys aren’t tagging along. "Y-y-yes, mam," the boy stuttered. “But I also have the papers for the house in Missouri.” He walked over to her cherry-wood desk, holding out the papers. Marsey snatched them from his hand. "Always gotta do everything around here," she muttered under her breath as she signed her signature. A deep chuckle interrupted her, and her attention drifted from the paper that lay on her desk to the silver eyed man who stood outside her door. An evil grin curled her chapped lips. "What an unexpected surprise." She turned to the boy and handed him the papers. “Leave.” As the young boy scurried from the room, the man stepped in. "You knew I'd be coming at some point, so I doubt I caught you off guard." He strutted into her office, looking around with a holier-than-thou disposition. The one thing about him that got on Marsey's nerves was his arrogance. But she supposed with that type of power, he’d have to be conceited to rule The Underworld. Marsey glared but kept her smile. She didn't like him, but if she was going to finish her job, then she would put up with his bullshit. "So, why’d you call?" “I need your help with someone." He didn't look the least bit interested as he fiddled with the gnome ornaments on her desk. "Who?" "A girl I can’t seem to catch.” His silver eyes flickered to hers. "You haven’t gone soft, have you?" Ha. If anything, she‘d gotten meaner. "What's in it for me?" he asked. The man didn't turn dumb overnight. He knew what was in it for him. "Did you seriously just ask that?" She cut her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "What do you think’s in it for you? A soul to add to your list." And HE never said no to a free soul. He seemed to be taking in her words as he stared at her, his eyes cold and calculating. "What do you have in mind?" "You just do whatever you feel is necessary at the time. Knock her out or do your little voodoo wonders on her. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be that creative, just as long as she gets back to me alive.” “Body’s rotting that bad, huh?” He paced in front of her desk. “So who’s the girl?" Marsey gritted her teeth. "You ask too many questions. Are you gonna take the job or not?" “All right.” He straightened the wrinkles of his white button down shirt. She was curious on how he was going to work his magic: Captivate her with seduction? Bewitch her to walk straight into Marsey’s warehouse with open arms? Hypnotize somebody else to bring her into Marsey’s custody? He was a sneaky little sphinx, and he did whatever he had to do to get a soul. “So, are you gonna do anything special?” she asked, clicking her pen. “Walk up and introduce myself.” Her face scrunched. “You’re gonna tell her your name?” “Fake name—yes. Real name—no.” “Why not?” “I can’t just go around calling myself by my first name. People tend to run away when I do that.” True. “Jot down her name, and I’ll find her.”
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