by Elle Adams
“Silver,” she said. “Anything made out of pure silver. You might want to ask security. He helped us update our defences after the murder.”
“Nathan’s still here?” When he’d said he used to apprehend misbehaving paranormals, he’d included fairies on that list. I hoped I didn’t qualify as misbehaving.
“I called him in to look out for trouble, considering the interesting clientele you’re interviewing today.”
Touché. “So… if he does shift, I throw silver in his face?”
“Yes, but if you carry it on you all the time, he might feel threatened,” she said. “We have highly developed senses, especially smell. He’ll be able to tell if you have silver, so don’t make it look like an outright threat. Luckily, the office is full of innocent-looking items that fit the bill.”
“Maybe I’ll hit him with the stapler if he attacks me. Or can I have some handcuffs?”
“None here. Security… I wouldn’t ask for those. I downplayed the fact that our visitor is a murder suspect, but I think he knows.”
“He’s not the police, though, right? I’m kind of lost on what a paranormal hunter actually does.”
Her friendly smile disappeared. “He’s not one. But they’re more of an independent collective for policing paranormals who live outside of the boundaries. That wolf might qualify, but since there aren’t any active hunters in town, he’ll be handed over to the police.”
Ah. There was probably some history between the werewolves and the hunters that I didn’t know about yet.
“Sorry, I was just curious.”
“Not to worry.” She smiled again. “If he’s not a rogue, he won’t have anything to worry about. Rogues are rare because they tend to have good reason to get kicked out of a pack.”
Uneasiness flickered through me. It didn’t sound like this guy had told anyone he was a werewolf to begin with, but if he was a rogue, who even knew what he was capable of?
“But if he’s a rogue,” she added, “it makes no sense for him to be applying for jobs at wizard shops. None at all. It’s not a very good cover story if you look closely enough.”
“Nobody would know he’s a werewolf at all if I hadn’t accidentally seen through him, right?” I said. “Or is it due to pure luck and cleverness that he’s managed to stay hidden?”
“If he met one of us in person, we’d be able to sniff him out,” she said. “I’d guess he’s lying low amongst other paranormals who wouldn’t guess what he is. None of us would apply to work in spellcraft. We can’t use magic like the witches or wizards can.”
“If he wants to avoid attention, getting involved in a murder case in any way is bound to put the spotlight on him.”
Or maybe he was covering up. Poison wasn’t an obvious murder weapon choice for someone who could transform into a hairy monster. Whether or not he actively wanted anyone to know that.
“Speak of the devil,” said Callie.
I jumped, thinking she meant the wolf. Instead, the front door opened and Nathan walked in.
“I heard you were running interviews,” he said. “Something about a stray werewolf.”
Well, hello to you, too. “Yes, we are.”
“A rogue werewolf? I suppose you wouldn’t know the difference yet, but rogues—”
“Are werewolves without a pack. Callie told me.”
“And a murder suspect?”
Ah. Callie had been dead right—there was no way he wouldn’t guess. “Not according to the police.”
Nathan tilted his head. “Have you spoken to the police?”
“Nope,” I said. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to arrest anyone.” Or maybe he would. Despite his brusqueness, I could think of fewer people I’d like to have outside the door with a potentially dangerous werewolf stray in the building.
“Including the man you interviewed this morning?”
Note to self: don’t bother trying to fool a paranormal hunter. “Not a suspect,” I said, in my best client info is confidential tone. “I thought you arrested misbehaving paranormals, not slightly deceptive wizards with dreadful fashion sense. He was about as dangerous as a toothless badger.”
His brows rose in puzzlement. “Werebadgers are a nasty territorial bunch. I wouldn’t necessarily say losing their teeth would make much of a difference.”
“It was the first thing that came into my head,” I said, wishing I could staple my lips closed. “You’re not going to scare off the clients, are you?”
There was a muffled laugh. Callie’s head was hidden behind her computer screen, but I gave her a look. “You know the boss wouldn’t want us scaring people away.”
She sighed. “Let him in. Nathan, stand outside and look intimidating. He wouldn’t guess I’m the one who can sniff him out, unless he knows I’m the pack leader’s daughter.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” Nathan said. “If you’re going to keep inviting murder suspects in, sooner or later the police will end up involved. Fair warning.”
“We have all their names and details,” I said. “Plus the whole office is made up of witches, and we can drag up any info on them in a second. Can the police do that?” Clients who sneakily hid their own identities in plain sight might require a more subtle approach.
Okay, and I also hated abandoning a problem. I would help the wizard find a more suitable position. Not just because it was my job, but because I hated not having closure. It gave me something to focus on besides my own magic, or lack thereof, and the absence of answers on my magical history.
“This isn’t the world you knew, Blair,” he said. “Not to imply you don’t belong here, but there are rules you simply won’t have had the chance to learn yet.”
“Exactly,” I said. “He’ll never suspect I know what he is.” Even I didn’t quite know why my powers had chosen now to manifest, nor why I could suddenly sense lies. I doubted even the police could do that.
“Be careful,” said Nathan. “Playing games with the pack never ends well.”
I supposed he’d know. What had led him to retire from monster hunting and take up a position of security in a quiet town like this? It wasn’t any of my business, but I did wonder. The slightly irritable expression on Callie’s face suggested now was not the time to pursue that line of questioning.
“I’ll keep that in mind, but it’d look suspicious if we cancel now.” I spotted a male figure approaching across the cobbled street. “There he is. Nobody act suspicious.” I glanced at Nathan, who was scowling. “As far as he’s concerned, he’s on the way to a job interview, not an interrogation. Besides, if we scare him off, the police might lose a potential suspect.”
“I’ll be waiting outside,” Nathan said pointedly, and I backed into the office, trying to compose myself.
The place still smelled of the wizard’s spell, while there was a sudden abundance of silver objects on every work surface. Bethan gave me an innocent smile from behind a pile of staples. I grabbed a handful and shoved them into my pocket, as I heard Callie’s greeting from the reception area. Drawing in a breath, I went back out to greet the new interviewee.
A young man with shaggy dark hair walked in. I wouldn’t have guessed him for a werewolf immediately, but there was something undeniably animal-like about the way he moved.
I hitched on a smile, which immediately slid off when he entered our office. “This place stinks of oil.”
Ah. He could smell the last interviewee. In fairness, you didn’t have to be a werewolf to pick up on the stench of whatever spell he’d been using.
“This way,” I said, beckoning him into the side office. Apparently Vaughn Llewellyn was going to be even less polite than the last guy, which didn’t bother me too much. I’d spent long enough being screamed at in customer service positions to develop an effective poker face and the ability to defuse situations. Or if all else failed, duck for cover. On the other hand, the fact that he was a werewolf threw a new sense of danger into the mix.
I casually felt for
the staples in my pocket, hoping I wouldn’t need them, closed the door behind him and took a seat. “Hello, Mr Llewellyn.”
He grunted. As professional as the last guy, then. “Where’s the boss?”
“Busy. So I’m doing the interview instead.” I plastered on a smile faker than the wizard’s contact lenses. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you some questions about your qualifications.”
Vaughn scowled, leaning back in the seat. “I’m qualified.”
Really. If he’d told a lie as big as not being a werewolf, I doubted the other information in his file were accurate, either.
“You’re a grade four spellcaster,” I went on. “Can you tell me the most common types of grade four spell?” I’d asked for Bethan’s help devising some convincing questions in order to find out the extent of his lies without being too obvious.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Why is that relevant?”
“You’re applying for a spellcasting position.” Maybe poking the beast wasn’t such a great idea after all. “Our policy is to match people up with what they’re suited best for. You have no previous experience, so we’ll have to go with what you know.”
“All right,” he muttered. “I don’t know. Happy?”
“Haven’t you trained as a wizard? Your CV says you studied at the Lancashire University of Spellcraft. So if I searched the university’s list of alumni, I’d find your name?”
His scowl deepened. I didn’t even need to pretend to grow more suspicious with every word he said—or didn’t say.
“Nothing wrong with embellishing the truth,” he said.
“There’s embellishing the truth, and there’s outright lying,” I said, tensing when his eyes narrowed.
“You called me here to make fun of me, didn’t you? Fine. I don’t have magic. Happy?”
“Then why did you apply to spellcasting positions? You must know you’d lose out to a certified wizard.”
“Certified wizard?” His eyes narrowed. “Wait. That idiot wizard was in here, wasn’t he? The place smells of him.”
Oh no. I should have moved to a different office.
I released a breath. Slowly. “We had Mr Bloom in here for an interview earlier. We often invite our potential candidates here to work on their applications and skills.”
“He doesn’t want to work as a spellcrafter either. Wants to open a bakery or some nonsense like that.” He still wore an irritated scowl, but didn’t look on the verge of shifting into a wolf and ripping my throat out.
“Did he tell you that?” I asked.
“He wouldn’t stop mouthing off while we were in the interview room.”
Hmm. “He mentioned you,” I said. “Said you two got into a fight.”
He gave me an incredulous look. “You invited me here to talk about that pathetic excuse for a wizard?”
“Both your names were on my list before I realised the connection,” I said—technically true. But if he wasn’t qualified as a spellcaster, he could no more have committed a magical murder than transformed into a spoon. “But now you mention it—why pick a fight with him?”
“He’s an idiot. The boss died, right? That’s why you’re questioning me.” He rose to his feet. “I’m not here to be insulted. I dunno why I’m here, to be honest.”
I sat up straight, my heart rate kicking up. “If you were innocent, you wouldn’t be making a break for it. We have a lot of silver in the office and a trained paranormal hunter on security duty.”
Vaughn fell back into the seat. “This isn’t necessary. I didn’t kill anyone. As you know by now, I’m not magical at all. I might as well have…”
Turned into a wolf and attacked him? “Anyone can use poison. If they know what they’re doing.”
“Not that type,” he said. “Didn’t you read the newspaper? It said the poisonous leaves came from his own garden. The whole place is covered in security spells. I didn’t smell any poison in the interview room while I was there, so it must have happened afterwards.”
Werewolf senses. More to the point, the so-called lie detector that had been blaring in my head all afternoon had gone suspiciously quiet. So was he telling the truth?
“Then why did you throw a tantrum after being rejected?” I asked.
“Because that wizard made fun of my haircut.” He scowled again. “And because the guy who was going to get it was a complete tool.”
“Which guy?”
“Simeon Clarke.”
Hmm. “If you have any more information—”
“I don’t.”
“The receptionist, Callie, is willing to help you if you don’t want to confide in me. I take my job very seriously, Mr Llewellyn.”
There was nothing more to say. He hadn’t lied, or my magical lie detector was broken. Either way, I needed more details on the actual murder before I made any more assumptions.
He took that as an invitation to leave and stormed out of the office. I heard a door slam behind him. Another suspect down.
“Sounds like that went well,” said Bethan, entering the interview room behind me. “What’s the verdict?”
I lowered his file and got to my feet. “Apparently the poison was applied after he left, because he’d have sniffed it out otherwise. Also, he claims that it came from Mr Bayer’s own garden. I must have missed that part of the article.”
“Might be lying,” said Bethan. “I was on the verge of calling security in, but it looks like his bark is worse than his bite.”
“That depends if he comes storming back here to start a fight with me when he realises why I sent him to speak to Callie if he wants to confide in someone.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “Good idea… possibly. Callie can handle herself, but if the pack gets involved… things could get nasty.”
I groaned. “I’m sorry. It sort of slipped out. I didn’t give away any other hints that I know what he is.”
“Good. Did he give away anything at all?”
“Well, he said I should question this Simeon Clarke next. Apparently he’s the person who’d have got the job if Mr Bayer hadn’t died.”
“Hmm.” She paused. “I suppose it’s worth calling him. I think the police dismissed him as a suspect.”
“Like the wizard,” I said. “Who else have the police questioned—?”
There was an almighty crash. My heart jumped into my throat. “Oh god. He turned into a wolf, didn’t he?”
Bethan ran from the office with me on her heels, skidding to a halt in the reception area. Vaughn had gone, while Callie was dusting her hands off, a scowl on her pretty face.
“What happened?” I asked.
“He didn’t take my generous offer of help very well.” Her voice deepened while her face briefly disappeared beneath a coating of thick grey fur. Her jaw lengthened, curved teeth sprouting from her gums, and I wanted to slowly back away. There was a total disconnect between the smiley receptionist and this terrifying monster.
“Sorry,” said Bethan, to Callie. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she said, in a growly voice. “I punched the desk. And now I can’t turn back. I always have trouble the week after the full moon… I’m scaring you, aren’t I, Blair?”
Yes. “No. I’m glad that guy didn’t shift and attack us.”
“No, he just used some very colourful language.”
“What is going on here?” Veronica strode out of her office into the reception area, her gaze sweeping across all of us and landing on Callie’s furred face. Lucky the rest of her hadn’t transformed, too.
“Disagreement with a client,” said Callie, her teeth slipping into wolf form and back to human again. “Sorry.”
“Which client?” Her gaze was on me. Ah. I still haven’t told her I’m not a witch. Now did not seem like a spectacular time to bring that up.
“Vaughn Llewellyn,” I said. “It was my idea to invite him for an interview. Apparently my magical talent allows me to sense whether people are paranormal or not, so when I spoke to h
im on the phone and got an impression of a werewolf and not a wizard, I wanted to see if I was right. He was on the call list anyway.”
I held my breath as her eyes narrowed. Please, please don’t fire me. If I had to leave, I might never know who my family had been. I’d be exiled to the human world, doomed to bounce between jobs leaving chaos behind me. I liked Fairy Falls. I liked the others—except Blythe—and even answering calls was a thousand times better than the night shift or fifteen-hour call centre shifts or… anything.
She looked accusingly at Bethan. “Werewolves in the office again? It’s always you, isn’t it?”
Not the reaction I’d expected. “Wait,” I said. “I said it was my idea…”
“This scheme has my daughter written all over it,” said Veronica. “Let me guess—she used a divining spell.”
“Has this happened before?” I asked, confused.
“Not exactly,” Bethan admitted, her face reddening. “But there have been… incidents. We’re paranormals, so are our clients. Occasionally they start fights in the office or…”
“Set things on fire,” said the boss. “Once she decided it was her duty to find a position for the town’s resident pyromaniac. She likes taking on hopeless cases.”
No wonder she’d fought so hard to get me to stay. “So I’m not being fired?”
“If you were, I’d have to fire the whole office,” said Veronica. “Where Bethan goes, so does Lizzie. And Blythe can read minds, so she has no excuse for not warning me.”
Blythe glowered at me. Someone still thought it was my fault, then.
Veronica looked at Callie and sighed. “Where is security?”
“Following the werewolf,” said Callie, in a low growly voice.
The boss checked her watch. “Given the circumstances, it’s probably best if you all leave early.”
8
Anyone might have gone home for a nap after the day I’d had, but thanks to the wolf incident, adrenaline zipped through my nerve-endings, in dire need of an outlet. And today’s interviews had sparked more questions than ever. It was late afternoon, but not too late for me to take a walk over to Mr Bayer’s shop and have a poke around.
