Reconciliation Of Hate (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 11)
Page 13
“So, tomorrow?” Sophia supplied. “Can you start work tomorrow?”
“Mr. Cavill, though,” Ramy argued, watching intently as the crew moved out of the way, preparing to run through the scene. “He’ll need to replace me. I need to give my notice. It could take quite some time to find someone as devoted and attentive as me.”
Sophia sighed, thinking of how annoyed Henry Cavill seemed when being doted on by Ramy. “I’m not sure that’s the problem you think it is.”
“The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.”
“Wow, you have that movie memorized,” Sophia said, impressed.
“I helped Johnny Depp prepare for the role.”
“Oh, you were his bodyguard too?”
Ramy shook his head. “No, but I got thrown off his property a lot during the filming of the first movie, and I’m pretty sure I offered him the inspiration he needed to be a fantastic pirate. You should have seen his eyes when I broke into his house and drank all his rum.”
“So that’s the memory he channeled when Elizabeth Swan drank his store of rum, huh?”
Ramy clapped a hand on Sophia’s shoulder as the boulder dangling over Henry Cavil began to fall. The bodyguard sprinted forward, yelling, “Noooo!”
Everything after that happened in slow motion. Henry looked over as Ramy rushed at him, his hands reaching forward. The director yelled, “Cut!” Sophia simply remained frozen, as though being forced to watch a car crash happen.
Ramy dove into the actor, pushing him out of the way. Henry landed on his backside, sliding several feet away. The boulder continued to fall, and finding himself directly under it, Ramy froze and looked up, his face constricted with horror. Yet, he simply peered up at the boulder about to crash into him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sophia was about to rush forward and push Ramy out of the way of the falling boulder, the way he’d done for Henry Cavill. However, she spied something that kept her still.
The boulder was tethered to a steel rod above it by a chain. It unraveled as the boulder fell and when it was a few feet from the top of Ramy’s head, the chain went taut, and the large rock bounced in the air for a little before merely swinging.
Ramy hadn’t moved as the boulder plummeted toward him, his chin sticking straight into the air and eyes wide on the object of his demise.
“You idiot!” the director yelled, throwing his arms into the air. “You ruined the shot.”
Visibly vibrating from fear, Ramy kept his eyes focused on the boulder. “I-I-I didn’t know it was a stunt. I thought that Mr. Cavill was in danger, and my job is to protect him.”
“Ramy, you’re fired.” Henry pushed up to his feet. “I’ve had enough of the mishaps you cause.”
“I was going to quit anyway,” Ramy said, his tone shaky as he stared at the swinging boulder.
“Well, good.” Henry strode in the opposite direction. “I’ll be in my trailer for the afternoon.”
The director looked about to protest when the chain holding the boulder loosened suddenly, many of the links expanding.
“The rig!” someone yelled. “It’s about to give way!”
“Clear the set,” the director ordered.
Henry Cavill spun, his eyes wide. Sophia tensed. To everyone’s surprise, Ramy simply stood beneath the boulder that was about to fall, not part of any stunt but rather a mistake by the rigging crew.
“Ramy, get out from under there!” Henry ordered.
The bodyguard shook his head. “I can’t move…I’m too scared.”
“How are you scared?” Sophia had to ask. “When you die, you come back. Plus, you don’t feel any pain.”
He shook his head. “The fear never goes away.”
Everyone had scattered to the perimeter, most of them turning back to watch the show of Ramy standing in the middle of the stage, looking up at the boulder that had jumped down another inch, the chain wrapped around the beam loosening.
“Move!” the director ordered.
Ramy stayed frozen.
Sophia started forward, intent on pushing Ramy out of the way. The director held out an arm, pausing her.
“Don’t,” he warned. “I won’t have any other’s blood on my stage.” Turning his attention back to Ramy, he shook his head. “Damn it! Get off that stage now!”
“I-I-I’m trying,” Ramy nearly cried.
“Just run!” Sophia encouraged.
“Do it now!” Henry yelled.
Everyone around the sound stage began to holler, telling Ramy to get out of the way of danger.
More of the links expanded, almost giving way completely. The boulder slid down another couple of inches.
“I can do this. I can do this,” Ramy chanted as though trying to encourage himself to move. He smiled up at the boulder swinging overhead. “Rock, this is the day you will always remember as the day you almost caught Ramy Van—”
Before he could finish his statement, the chain snapped and sent the boulder crashing down onto the man, crushing him instantly—ending him in a gross mess that everyone saw firsthand.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sophia sharply spun away while covering her face from the grotesque sight of the large rock crushing the man’s body. She’d seen some of it since it happened so fast but didn’t want details of the image burned into her mind.
There were screams from around the sound stage. Gasps. Cries. Thankfully, those drowned out the grosser sounds of crushing bones and pulverizing flesh.
To Sophia’s surprise, the sounds of frustration soon replaced those of grief.
“Damn that guy!” the director yelled. “That death was avoidable.”
Sophia pulled her arm down to find the crew moving into action. Henry was beside the stage and shaking his head.
“If Ramy was waiting for the opportune moment, that was it.”
“That’s not very thoughtful,” Sophia admonished. “A man has died.”
The director shot her a scolding look. “That man has ruined my stage and put us back a day.”
Sophia didn’t look, but she saw the crew members rolling the boulder off Ramy’s body in her peripheral vision. “He saved Henry from getting impaled. That boulder could have come down on anyone.”
“No, it was probably meant for Ramy,” the actor said. “The guy brings this stuff on himself all the time.”
“Henry wasn’t going to be under the boulder when it fell,” the director stated. “He would have been out of the way well before that.”
“Not to mention that Ramy stood there looking up at it when he could have gotten out of the way,” Henry added.
“He was frightened,” Sophia countered.
“Yeah, I was,” Ramy said in a raspy voice.
Sophia dared to look, afraid he’d be covered in blood and guts. To her surprise, he looked the same. She rushed over, shocked and relieved.
“You’re okay?”
He still lay on the ground, the boulder beside him. A few crew members rolled it backward out of the way. Ramy gave it a cursed expression and nodded. “Yeah, a bit shook, but that’s normal.”
“You’re not…you know…” Sophia didn’t know how to say what she was thinking.
“Bloody?” he supplied. “Yeah, I don’t bleed. Or break. Or pretty much anything that would make my deaths super gross.”
“So you really can’t be killed,” Sophia marveled.
“Easily,” he added.
“Ramy,” Henry began while striding over. “I realize that your heart was in the right place. I know things got heated, but I’m willing to give you another chance if—”
Ramy held up his hand, pausing the actor. “That’s okay. I think our time spent together has come to an end. I’m ready to move on.” He stood and looked at Sophia. “I have another opportunity, and something tells me that it will offer me the chance to do more than protect national treasures.”
“Are you sure?” Henry asked. “I appreciate your
protection.”
Ramy nodded. “And I yours as the Witcher.”
“You realize that I’m not really that person, right?” Henry Cavill asked. “That’s a character, you know…”
Ramy pursed his lips and backed away. “Don’t ruin it for me.”
“But you know—”
Ramy held up a single finger toward Henry’s mouth. “Shush now, my man of steel. I need you to be strong for me. Allow me to walk away, knowing that you might not ever see me walk back in your direction.”
“Okay, well, see you later then,” Henry said casually and waved.
“Goodbye, Mr. Cavill,” Ramy stated. “May we meet in another life.”
“Sure thing,” he sang while heading back in the direction of the stage.
“Or I’ll see you at the Oscars!” Ramy exclaimed as Sophia led him away, toward a portal to Roya Lane.
Chapter Thirty
Sophia entered Heals Pills tentatively, unsure if she was more nervous about introducing Ramy to King Sweetwater or the other way around. The two would make an interesting pair. Hopefully, Rudolf wouldn’t have gotten too far ahead in the interview process.
A long line of what she suspected were applicants holding resumes and vials of blood dashed those hopes when she entered the shop. She’d ask about the latter items later, if at all.
Sophia headed toward Rudolph, tugging Ramy with her as she moved around the applicants, who all shot her glares as though she was cutting in line.
“Okay, under references you have Ms. Lois Alst—” Rudolf glanced up, looking at the candidate, a fae who was dressed impeccably but also appeared slightly inebriated, as usual for the fae. “Lois…that’s one of my ex-girlfriends. Did she mention me? Oh…this is her attempt to get me back, is it? She had me open a pill shop, knowing I’d one day need help, then offer to write a reference for you and all so she could get me back.”
“She’s a friend,” the fae said flatly. “We used to work together. She can vouch for my skills.”
“Who can vouch for your breath,” Rudolf stated and threw the guy’s resume over his shoulder. “Next!”
Before Sophia could move around the next applicant, a rather attractive elfin woman stepped forward and thrust her resumé into Rudolf’s hand. Realizing that Sophia needed to be discreet in front of all these candidates for the position she’d filled, she held up a single finger at Ramy and mouthed, “Hold on.”
He nodded and teetered back and forth, looking like he might fall over on one of the display cases.
“Lady of the Owls.” Rudolf read the woman’s name on the top of her resume. “You have quite the list of experience here. Don’t you think that you’re overqualified for this position? I mean, you’ve done some impressive stuff, and here, you’ll be selling lifesaving elixirs. Not to mention that your boss is a real tightwad. She thinks she owns this place and although that’s true, she flaunts it.”
Deciding she’d had enough and was tired of being diplomatic, Sophia threw up her arms. “Okay, everyone out! Interviews are over! I’ve filled the position.”
Sophia’s declaration met with protests, most of them by the king of the fae. Then he recognized that it was Sophia making the statement and began ushering everyone out the door.
“You heard the very reasonable and modest boss,” Rudolf stated. “Who hasn’t heard all the mean things I’ve been saying about her.”
“I heard the last one,” Sophia said over the thundering of candidates filing through the door.
Rudolf fake-laughed. “I knew you were there the whole time, Sophia. I was simply playing that little game we love so much.”
“Which one?” Sophia asked dryly.
“You know, the one where I pretend you’re not there and say bad things about you, then we both laugh.”
Sophia shook her head. “I’m not aware of that game and didn’t know we played it.”
He waved his hand. “Loads of times. You love it.”
“Right.” Sophia groaned.
Rudolf swatted Ramy on the shoulder. “Hey, didn’t you hear? The interviews are over. She filled the position.” Then, as if it finally registered for him, Rudolf swept back around to face Sophia. “Wait, it is? By who?”
Sophia held out a presenting arm to Ramy. “By this gentleman here.”
Rudolf ran his eyes over the unsuspecting guy. “Him? Does he want to sell Heals Pills or drink all of it in hopes that it helps…”
Sophia tensed. To her relief, Ramy laughed. “I had a boulder hit my face. That’s not to mention the Mack truck that hit me this afternoon. Or the vultures that chased me from my car.”
Sophia shook her head at him. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? That all happened today?”
He nodded. “In the last few hours. This morning—”
She held up her hand and halted him. “I think I’ve heard enough.”
“I still have the job though, right?” Ramy sounded worried.
“Yeah, it’s simply that the less I know about the accidents that happen to you, the better,” Sophia answered.
“So why did you hire this guy, who is apparently a magician who doesn’t use magic?” Rudolf asked. “Not to mention he’s wearing strange socks, and I’m pretty certain he’s not wearing moisturizer.” He said the last part in a loud whisper.
“My fairy godmother said he was the right guy for the job,” Sophia answered.
“You left me the responsibility of filling the opening.” Rudolf almost sounded hurt.
“My fairy godmother said your time was much too valuable to mind the shop or interview to fill the position,” Sophia explained.
That seemed to raise Rudolf’s spirits immediately. “What a bright and thoughtful and totally accurate woman your fairy godmother is.” He paused and leaned forward, hesitation in his gaze. “I’m going to assume she is a woman, correct?”
“Good assumption,” Sophia stated dryly.
Rudolf studied Ramy. “Well, if a fairy godmother said he’s the right guy for the job, who am I to argue with her?” He walked around him, measuring him with his eyes, it seemed. “I guess I can work with this. Can you dress better?”
Ramy nodded. “I can add a sweater vest to this ensemble and a tweed hat.”
“I said better,” Rudolf scolded, peeling away. “Not can you dress like an old crusty college professor. Why don’t you put on a jacket with elbow patches and burn this world down already?”
Sophia gave Ramy a commiserating expression. “I’m sorry, excuse me for not making introductions. King Rudolf Sweetwater, this is Ramy Vance. Ramy, this is a brick who masquerades as the king of a race of magical creatures. Ignore most things he says, never take offense to them, and if he asks you to smell something, always say no.”
Ramy dutifully nodded.
“Why, thank you for the thoughtful introduction, Sophia,” Rudolf stated humbly. “Now, Ramy-Cans. I can call you that, right? It seems fitting. Anyway, what are your qualifications?”
“I was the bodyguard to—”
“He can’t die,” Sophia interrupted. “My fairy godmother seems to think we need someone resilient to mind the shop because it could see multiple dangers.”
Rudolf nodded while thinking. “That would explain all the threatening notes I’ve been getting and attempts on my life.”
Sophia lowered her chin. “When were you going to tell me about this, Ru?”
“I did,” he sang and pointed at the side of his head.
“Right,” Sophia chirped. “Through the telepathic link.”
“You have to remember to check your messages when you’ve been away or asleep,” Rudolf lectured. “I leave them on the voicemail.”
“Of my mind,” Sophia added.
“Exactly!” Rudolf exclaimed.
“Anyway, Ramy, this is the shop,” Sophia stated. “Rudolf can show you around and fill you in on the details and supply chain, which comes in from next door at the Rose Apothecary.”
“Friday’s lunch?” Ramy aske
d, his tone tentative.
“It’s all taken care of,” Sophia answered. “Tell us whatever you need. You have my number, and—”
A text interrupted her. Since her phone was on silent, Sophia knew it was something important.
She retrieved the device from her pocket and checked the message, her heart suddenly racing. The text was from Liv. It read:
I have something important to tell you. Meet me at the Fantastical Armory as soon as possible. Don’t delay, please…
That didn’t sound like a Liv message. Usually, they were full of jokes, and even if she was in a headlock with a troll, she was flippant about the matter. This sounded serious.
Sophia strode for the door at once. “I have to go now. Ramy, you’re in…” She glanced over her shoulder at Rudolf. “You’re in his hands now.”
“Good hands,” Rudolf added.
Sophia gave Ramy an uncertain look edged with an apology. “You’re in hands…his. Anyway, good luck. Be careful. Try not to die.”
“No promises,” Ramy sang, waving at Sophia as she exited the shop and hurried for the Fantastical Armory.
Chapter Thirty-One
Not only Liv but Papa Creola were pacing back and forth when she entered the Fantastical Armory. Sophia paused in the doorway, taking in the scene of the Warrior with her windswept hair striding back and forth between the back row of waist-high display cases. In the other row, closer to the door, was Papa Creola, his long hippie hair also unbrushed as he worried away, chewing on his lip.
Conversely, Subner sat behind the counter on his stool in his new elfin form with his black hair pulled back into a ponytail and an indifferent expression on his face as though the troubles plaguing the other two weren’t problems of his.
“What is it?” Sophia asked, unsurprised to hear the worry in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
Liv and Papa Creola both looked up, startled expressions on their faces.
“World hunger, political divide inside warring governments, seasonal allergies, fundamental economic issues, eczema, the list goes on and on,” Subner stated dryly.