I had stacks and stacks of notes and pictures, all collected over years of searching for the Black Mage. Most of it compiled in the last six months as I started to narrow in on his operations. The debacle yesterday should have served as a warning to get my head back in the game. Shame burnt low in my gut and I gathered my long hair into a messy bun and shook my head.
Focus.
I didn’t know what I expected today. I’d read these pages hundreds of times. I could recite some of the passages from memory. My desperation for answers started to feel like a weight in my mind, on my heart. I couldn’t shake it. Like every day I let my parents’ deaths go unpunished I’d failed them. Every day I lived while they lay in the ground.
I slammed the files shut with way more force than necessary and sank back into my chair. It creaked and protested as I moved, its age written into every squeak. I refused one of the fancy new rolling chairs everyone else in the office had. My old orange seventies chair served me well. I refused to abandon it.
My coffee was now cold and I took a bitter swallow, staring at the brown folders littered across my desk.
Maybe it was time to get another eye on my notes? Someone might see something I missed. Who could I trust with the responsibility? Who wouldn’t fail me or mock me? No one I worked with, that was for sure. And trusting a stranger didn’t feel right either. Probably because I didn’t trust anyone but myself.
A tiny nagging voice in my mind suggested it might be time to change that fact. I couldn’t see another way. But trusting someone with my family, my heart, my emotions even, felt far too intimate.
I stacked up the files and slipped them all back into my black leather messenger bag propped against the desk drawers at my feet. I dragged my laptop across my desk, opened it, and began culling through my emails, deleting spam and responding to a couple low level hunt requests.
Then I updated my paperwork, closed out some cases, and sent a couple invoices to people who hadn’t paid for the second half of a hired hunt yet. Most of my colleagues took payment up front. I preferred to break mine in two. I could help those who needed a payment plan or a little more help when it came to money.
I still hadn’t told the chief about the time s
omeone paid me in tamales. Best trade ever, except I had to pay the Office fee out of pocket. The Chief was a boiled chicken and rice kind of man. He wouldn’t understand.
The sky in the upper warehouse windows had steadily brightened while I worked, and I had just finished packing up to leave when keys jingled in the lock of the main entrance. Crap. I’d underestimated my colleagues' work ethic it seemed.
I jammed the rest of the materials I needed for the next couple of weeks into my bag just as the chief entered. I froze, caught, and waited for the censure I knew was to follow.
He looked me up and down, and said, “Well, I lost the office pool. I thought it would be at least a week before you came back here.”
My mouth flopped open like a fish and then I snapped it shut. “Did anyone place a bet on me returning today?”
The corner of his mouth curled up in a grin. “Yes. Hawk did.”
That bastard. I didn’t know whether to love him or hate him. He always seemed to know us better than we knew ourselves. Or at the very least, he was able to predict our actions to minimize the damage. Which was probably why the chief trusted him as a second in command.
I heaved my bag up on my shoulder and raised my chin. “You don’t have to worry about me. I was just leaving. I only needed to get some paperwork done.”
He gave me a nod and headed back to his office. I let out a long sigh of relief.
I walked out into the early morning sunlight. A slight chill still hung in the air and I tugged my leather jacket tighter around me. Now that I’d left, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.
No new leads with yesterday’s debacle. No help from the office. I started the walk toward my apartment building. Considering the early hour in which I showed up at work I should have driven, but cold morning walks always cleared my head the same way a hot shower did for others.
My bag bounced against my hip and I adjusted it over to my other shoulder to balance the weight. I continued on down the dirty sidewalks toward home, but something didn’t feel right. A tingle settled against my spine. Years of bounty hunting told me not to make any sudden changes in movement. I stretched my neck a little to get a glance behind me and caught the edge of a shadow in an alley.
Whatever idiot thought it was a good idea to follow me from the office to my house was about to learn how cranky I got before breakfast. I continued walking, slowing my pace a little so I wouldn’t be out of breath when it came time for a confrontation. About two blocks from home, I made a sudden right down a side street and kept walking. Sure enough, someone followed me around the corner at a distance.
I couldn’t get a good angle to see them but given the height it had to be a man. And something else tingled along my spine. Not just a man but a paranormal. I took another sharp turn down a dingy alleyway and stopped in the middle, hands on my hips, facing the entrance. He took the turn and stopped dead.
Instead of backing up and continuing on his path, he lowered his hood. A strong chin, sharp cheekbones, and full lips were what I noticed first, and the full golden honey of his hair laying in waves around his face and ears.
The bright glowing blue of his eyes hit me last, and I sucked in a breath. Definitely not just a man.
I cleared my throat. “Can I help you with something? I don’t like being followed, especially when my office hours and phone number can be found on my website.”
He took a step forward and I held out my hand.
“Don’t come closer until you tell me who you are.”
Instead of listening, he took another step.