The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4)

by Kate Karyus Quinn

  I nod.

  “Paige can go in,” Nico says. “She’ll spend a few days pretending to be one of them and make sure your sister is okay.’

  I nearly choke on my coffee for the second time. If the client wasn’t sitting right here, I’d ask him what the hell he’s thinking. But since he is, I simply force a smile and say in a tight voice, “Let me check my schedule first, Nico.”

  “Of course,” Gary says. “I understand that this would be a big job and take you away from other work.” He opens his wallet and extracts a thick stack of cash. The top one is a hundred dollar bill and I got a feeling the rest of them are too. “What will it cost for expedited service?”

  “Double,” Nico says without hesitation. “Plus all expenses.”

  I have to clench my hands in my lap to keep from reaching for that money. It would go a long way towards helping me secure a new solo office location. “I probably can move some things around on my calendar.”

  “Great,” Gary says, sounding like everything worked out exactly the way he knew it would. Must be nice being able to carry around wads of cash in your wallet that can bend the world to your bidding. “If everything looks on the up and up, I’d just like a few pictures and a full report.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Nico smoothly assures him. I shoot him a look that communicates how I feel about that. It looks like I’m the one going undercover, so I’ll also be the one having to take sneaky pics and that seems like the type of thing that would fall squarely under suspicious behavior inside of a sex cult.

  “Now if the cult is what I fear, Vicky will need to be taken out of it. With or without her consent. Be deprogrammed.”

  “Nope,” I say quickly before Nico can once again tell Gary what he wants to hear. “I’m not kidnapping a grown woman who is somewhere of her own free will. If the cult is bad, I will take her aside and present the evidence. After that, it will be her decision whether or not she wants to stay.”

  “What if she’s drugged...or worse?” Gary demands.

  “If she’s drugged then she’s not there of her own free will. At that point, taking her out wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Gary frowns, but to my surprise, Nico nods. “Paige and I are in agreement on this. I doubt you’ll find any PI willing to go further, but…” Nico pushes the stack of bills back in Gary’s direction. “You’re free to try.”

  Gary hesitates and I can see he doesn’t like having to bend on this. Even though he thinks I’m the PI, he does seem more inclined to listen to Nico. Oh, the fragile male ego. “I just want the best for my sister.”

  “As do we...er...as does Paige,” Nico says. “Now if you’d like to move forward, I have some paperwork over here and I can give you a receipt for your retainer.”

  Gary stands and follows Nico over to his side of the office. Even though I’d been about to leave, I sit down at my desk again and pretend to work while Nico has Gary sign a contract. Finally, Gary heads out, though not before stopping at my desk again.

  “Looking forward to working with you,” he says. “I appreciate you taking this case on.”

  “Of course,” I say graciously, because I have better sense than to tell him I couldn’t say no to that large stack of cash.

  The minute Gary leaves, I let my client face fall. “What the hell, Nico? We’re working together now? You volunteer me for undercover work without even asking first?”

  As usual, my outburst bounces right off Nico. “You're short on cash,” he says. “And I had a feeling Gary is pretty plump in the pockets. I figured you’d jump at the chance to do a little PI moonlighting.”

  He’s right, damn it. But I’m not done giving him a hard time. “I want to know what you’re paying me for this job. I want it in writing. And I want to be treated like an equal—especially since I’m doing the dangerous part.”

  Nico snorts. “I’ll pay you half what Gary pays me and I’m happy to get a contract written up. As for you doing the dangerous part…” Nico moves towards my desk in a way that clearly demonstrates what he is—a hunter. Even walking on two legs, the animal inside him is so obvious.

  “From what I can tell, it’s a mix of supes and humans going through a lot of lube trying to fuck their way to world peace. They’re lunatics, but they’re harmless. If I were you, I’d think of it less like going undercover and more like an all-expenses paid vacation.”

  I narrow my eyes at Nico. “Then why aren’t you going?”

  He smiles. “Because I’m well known in the supe world. Chances are I’d be spotted by someone I know right away, and the cover would be blown.”

  I gesture to the door. “A client came here looking for me. It seems that I’m getting to be pretty well known, too.”

  “Yeah, as a human who likes to help supes. You’re the perfect person to join We Come Together.”

  “Okay, fine.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And are you expecting me to join in the orgies too? ’Cause if I wanted to be pimped out, I’d go work for Canwella.”

  Nico rolls his eyes. “Enough with the drama, Paige. It’s a free-love place. No one’s gonna make you have sex. I know for a fact that you are fully capable of flirting and cock-teasing without ever giving out.”

  I shoot up from my chair. “Fuck you.”

  “No, you haven’t,” he growls back.

  Grabbing my coat and bag, I stomp toward the door. “Find someone else for your undercover job.”

  “Paige, wait.” Nico grabs my arm. I hold my whole body tense, refusing to give in even as he adds, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

  “Yeah, it was,” I mutter.

  “I’m not used to sharing my space. It’s hard having you under my nose all day. It’s...frustrating.” The way he says frustrating doesn’t seem like he’s talking about my eating the last donut today or forgetting to refill the paper in the copier. It seems more like he’s talking about the same frustration I feel of having him near and wanting to be even nearer.

  Nico releases me and takes a step back. But I stay where I am.

  “It’s not a spa weekend,” he says. “But I do think it might be good for you to get away for a few days. You said Shauna’s been doing well, so have her pick up some of your cleaning jobs. Give yourself some time away from worrying about VSK or anything else.”

  I swallow. I’m at once touched by Nico’s concern, but also certain he’s manipulating me. Having me go undercover will help earn him a good chunk of change—even after splitting it with me.

  There’s no sense in saying no just to spit in Nico’s eye. And Gary might be the type of jerk who throws around cash to get his way, but he also seemed genuinely concerned about his sister. I can help someone, earn extra money, and—yeah, Nico’s right—having a few days away from my regular day-to-day life might actually be nice.

  “I want eighty percent,” I tell him. “My case, my money. Or no deal.” I’m bluffing. I need the money, but I’m not going to let Nico walk all over me.

  He tilts his head. “Sixty percent.”

  I let my eyes narrow and fold my arms. “Seventy-five.”

  “Seventy, and I do the prep work.” His face is amused, like he loves arguing with me. I have to admit I don't hate our back and forth either.

  “All right,” I say. “I’ll do it for seventy percent.” I go to his desk and count out the money, taking my cut. “Expenses,” I tell him. He makes no move to stop me.

  And with that I quickly head out the door before I can change my mind again…or ask Nico to give me another squeeze for good luck.

  4

  Figuring out what to wear to go undercover into a supe-human sex cult is not easy.

  It doesn’t help that the only person available to assist me is Shauna, who has thrown open the doors to my closet, fingers tapping her chin while she is deep in thought, her pixie wings fluttering erratically.

  “We want something that says, I’m down to pound...right?”

  “No,” I say from where I lay on the bed,
an arm thrown across my eyes. “I’m not down. I’m infiltrating this sex cult for business purposes only.”

  “And I’m sure that the Thunderstick is a write off for the office, huh?” Shauna asks, her wings picking it up a notch as I guiltily nudge the vibrator under the edge of my quilt. “Look, Paige.” She flops onto the bed next to me, the mattress barely moving under her tiny frame. “I know you’re upset about Liam, we all are.”

  “You didn’t even know him,” I argue from under my arm.

  “I kind of did,” she tosses back. “I mean, I met him and I thought he was okay, for a human. You know that takes a lot for me to admit, right?”

  “Yes,” I acknowledge. It’s the truth. Shauna was just about as anti-human as I was anti-supe when we first met. We've both changed, I think, as I peer out from under my elbow.

  “I really really think it sucks that he’s a vampire now,” she says, then has to fight very hard to keep a straight face.

  “Bad choice of words,” I tell her.

  “Ha!” she bursts out, laughing. “I’m so hilarious, I even make jokes by accident.”

  She takes in my look.

  “Sorry. That was...what do you call me a lot?”

  “Inconsiderate. Clueless. Lacking in empathy.”

  “Yeah, that stuff. My point is, Liam was a good guy. And now he’s a vampire. But he’s kind of being a dick to you and that’s just the way things are. So”—she claps her hands together—“there’s basically nothing stopping you from really going vagina-to-the-wall with this cult gig.”

  “You’re probably right,” I say, sitting up. “But the problem is that I’m just not that interested in sex right now,” I lie.

  Unless it’s with Nico, I have to admit to myself. And I’m going to push that thought even further down than the one where I’d briefly considered asking Liam to turn me into a vampire so we could live together forever in blissful harmony.

  Except…would it be so blissful? One of the things that attracted me so much to Liam was how normal he was, how human. He was supposed to anchor me back into my real life, the one where I had parents and a business. I don’t know if I want a future with him where we never age and pop out a new kid every thirty years.

  I don’t know if I want that with anybody.

  “If you’re not interested in having sex, you’ve at least got to watch,” Shauna insists, “You know, a voyager...a voyerer…”

  “Do you mean voyeur?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that!” she tells me, leaping up from the bed. “Otherwise, why would you even show up at Together We Come?”

  My bedroom door blows open and Shit, my Dalmanther, leaps onto the bed, nosing at my hands in search of a treat. Dalmanthers are the unfortunate outcome of a panther shifter having an experimental night with a Dalmatian. They’re part cat, part dog, wildly intelligent, and unfortunately known for tearing the faces off of their owners.

  Luckily, I still have my face—and Shit’s undying affection.

  Unluckily, Dalmanthers answer to the first loud sound they hear from their new owner, which in my case was the swear word I shouted after the puppy Nico gifted me jumped out of his crate and lunged at me.

  Darron follows shortly behind Shit, wiping perspiration from his brow. “I tried to keep up with him,” he says, tossing a chewed chain onto my bed. “But that dog is strong as a bull and runs like a cheetah.”

  “Panther,” I correct him, eyeing Shit as he noses around my blankets, having picked up the scent of the Thunderstick. I shove it deeper under the quilt. If Darron spots this gigantic vibrator, I’ll never hear the end of it.

  “Thanks for walking Shit,” I say, inspecting the chewed chain. “Guess we need another lead for him?”

  “Or a taser?” Shauna suggests, then suddenly lights up. “That would be a great accessory for you in the sex cult. It can totally be your kink. You can be like—you want to tap, you get the zap.”

  “Or, to get in my trap, you’ll have to zap,” Darron supplies. “What sex cult is Paige joining, anyway? And” —he turns to me—“great choice. This is what you need, honey. Really clean those cobwebs from your cooch.”

  Behind him, Shauna is still going. “What about, to spread my flaps—”

  “Enough!” I yell, and Shit jumps to attention, a low growl vibrating in his throat. I put my hand on his back to calm him, but his bristles only go down slightly.

  “First,” I tell Darron, pointing at him. “I’m not joining any sex cult. I’m going undercover at the Together We Come compound for a work-related matter.”

  “Did they hire you to clean?” Darron jumps up and down. “Paige, this is great news! You’ll be disinfecting every day! We can buy a new TV!” He high-fives Shauna. “And a choke-chain!” He offers a palm to Shit, who glances at me, notices my scowl, and doesn’t reciprocate.

  “No, they didn’t hire me to clean,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m going in undercover as a possible candidate for a job I’m working with Nico.”

  Darron’s eyebrows go way up at my mention of Nico. Even since Nico and I started our office sharing arrangement, Darron has gotten in the habit of asking me, “How was work? Bang Nico yet?”

  Not wanting to deal with that question or hear anymore commentary about the cobwebs in my cooch, I quickly add, “It pays even better than a cleaning job. So a new TV is definitely in our future.”

  “Oh, well in that case,” Darron spins on his heel, executing a perfect turn. I know it wouldn’t matter if he was wearing tennis shoes or six-inch stilettos. Girl’s got moves.

  He joins Shauna in eyeing my closet contents. “I think we can put something together here,” he mutters, flicking through hangers. “Something that says, I’m interested, but not really available. Charming, but aloof. Smoldering, but not sexy.”

  He pauses a second, then turns back to me. “Sorry, you’ve got nothing. Everything here is either Bettie Page or if Kurt Cobain were a girl.”

  I flop back on the mattress, any interest I’d had in the project evaporating.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Darron says, joining me on the bed, his hands easing out a kink in my shoulder. “You know my drama club just put on Mamma Mia. I’m sure I can raid the costume closet and come up with something just right for an abstinent girl moonlighting in a sex cult.”

  “Good idea,” Shauna says, joining us on the bed. “But don’t cults have like, uniforms or whatever? Jumpsuits or prairie dresses?”

  “I don’t know, actually. I have to do some research.”

  “Both would be hard to wear to an orgy,” Darron says thoughtfully. “If it were me, I’d go for easy access, like those warm-up pants basketball players wear, that just rip off.”

  “Stripper pants!” Shauna yells. “Oh course, those are perfect for group sex!”

  “What is this?” I ask. “My crash course on orgies?”

  Of course, neither one of them even acknowledges me. My housemates have no sense of boundaries.

  “I’ll just do a Google…” Shauna thumbs through her phone, eyebrows creased. “Have you looked up anything about this group at all?”

  “No,” I say, unease rising in my gut. “I know that it’s sex-positive and founded by a woman. Supposedly all the members are there of their own free will. I’m going just to do a wellness check for my client’s sister, just to make sure that’s all true.”

  “That’s all you knew before you agreed to this?” Darron asks, gesturing for Shauna to hand over her phone.

  Argh, it kind of is. With Gary Bennet flashing his cash and Nico breathing down my neck.

  “Not exactly,” I huff. “You know Charms, right?”

  “The cathouse?”

  “Yeah,” I confirm. Charms is an under-the-table, off-the-books brothel run by an ogre madame named Canwella. She has both human and supe employees—as well as customers—and a healthy gambling business in the basement, too.

  “One of Canwella’s girls ran off to join them, right?” Shauna asks. She twirls one of her
pink pigtails around her slim finger.

  “You remember that?” I ask.

  “Since I’ve laid off the beauty my memory is just like…” She makes a chopping motion with her hand then does a little pew pew noise.

  Darron and I exchange a glance, then he shouts out, “Laser focused!” like we were playing charades. Shauna nods happily, her pigtails dancing.

  “You really get me,” she tells him. “You’re like the gender-fluid uncle I never had.”

  Darron beams and puts his hand over his heart. “Thanks honey. You’re like the manic pixie niece I never knew I wanted.”

  “Anyway,” I continue, “Seraphina, the mermaid I told you about, got hooked in by the podcast and ended up joining the group. I remember something she said…” I close my eyes, thinking hard. It’s hard to recall because at the time I dismissed it as a bunch of faux spiritual mumbo-jumbo. “It was something about reaching her best future by leaving her past behind.”

  “Ick.” Darron pulls a face. “That is classic abuser speech. Separating people from their past means creating a yawning abyss between them and the people who love and care for them.”

  Shauna frowns. “Um, I thought you said this was a sexy fun times cult? Not a we’re gonna wash your brains type thing.”

  I can see my two roommates are on the verge of freaking out. Which is sweet. But also a little bit suffocating. They know I’ve been having a hard time with what happened to Liam, and they’ve tried their best to pull me out of the doldrums. Unfortunately, sometimes their idea of cheering me up is calling me in the middle of the work day to tell me we’ve got a rat infestation. I rushed home in a panic and ran into the house only to find a male stripper dressed as an exterminator in my kitchen. Of course, I didn’t realize he wasn’t a real exterminator until he ripped his clothes off and started grinding against my refrigerator door. The guy was cute, but putting butt prints on my stainless steel was a real turn-off.

  Now that I think about it, a few days away from them—and their belief that getting laid will solve all my problems—sounds kind of great.