I just knew it wouldn’t be good.
Which meant no matter how crazy this seemed, I needed to make it work.
Should I go get cookies?Maybe this was a test, like they wanted to ensure I had what it took to work with them?
I felt like walking in blind to an exam that I hadn’t known about or taught.
Just as I accepted the idea that I’d need to turn around and go to the store, the door opened again.
I expected that strange man to return, asking about baked goods, which was why it surprised me to find someone else there.He had dark hair, a bit messy and long enough to fall to his cheekbones, with waves through it, though I wondered if they’d stay if he brushed it properly.He wore a button-up shirt, light blue, and had the sleeves rolled up and over his forearms.
“This isn’t the cookie girl,” he shouted into the building, again making me wonder if they’d all lost their minds.Perhaps they’d gone too long without a guide and were well and truly corrupt—just in a far less murdery way than most of them went.When he turned back toward me, he had an almost charming smile painted across his lips, though something about it screamed in my head not to trust it—or him.“Sorry, come in.My name is Carter.”
I followed him, still clutching the cash against my chest, and got my first look at the interior.
The outside had been rather nondescript, just another small business or office building, surrounded by similar doors that housed lawyers and real estate agents and new-age doctors who claimed to cure rich people with crystals but usually only cured them of their money.
No one would have expected to find this just past one of those doors.
The space was large, with stairs near one side that wound up to a second floor.This ground floor was open, though, with a kitchenette on one side and a large couch facing a huge flat screen mounted on the wall across from it.A few desks sat in the space, awkwardly placed as though they weren’t sure what to do with the room.
Some of the desks had papers on them, purposeful stacks, as though the owner worked through them at their own pace, while others appeared to never have been touched at all.
And the thing that would have completely thrown any person?A full wall with a glass front and weapons locked inside.Guns, knives, something that I felt pretty sure was a missile launcher.While the rest of the space was an absolute mess, that area remained perfectly organized, along with a desk just before it that had a load of paperwork across it.
Yeah, this wasnotthe office of a civilian.
“If she isn’t here with cookies, who is she?”the man who had answered the door asked from his spot on the couch, his arm thrown over the back as he watched me.
“This is the guide that the Guild sent.”
Another head popped up from the couch as though summoned by that.“Guide?”This man looked nothing like the other two, with short hair gelled back like some old-timey gangster and tattoos that painted him like a new generation gangster.He had a neck tattoo of bird wings wrapped around his throat and an eye at the center.He wore a black shirt with a V-neck and long sleeves, meaning I couldn’t see any more of him, but I had a feeling that his tattoos went alotfurther than that.
He stared at me before flashing a smile so lewd I nearly blushed.I didn’t need to read thoughts to have a pretty good idea of what exactly was on his mind.
“Don’t get excited,” Carter warned as he took a seat at the desk with the weapons behind it.“You know the Guild wouldn’t just send us any old guide.”
“What’s wrong with her, then?”the tattooed man asked as though I weren’t there.
“She doesn’t bring cookies, that’s what’s wrong,” the long-haired man answered, his voice sullen.Was he actuallypoutingover such a thing?
“If you would shut up, I might be able to figure it out.”Carter shook his head, then gestured at the seat across the desk from him.“Ignore them—they’re like children.They think any attention is good attention.The one who answered the door is Kenyon, and the delinquent-looking asshole beside him is Ingram.”
I swallowed hard, the names making this all feel more real as I took the seat he’d offered and tucked the money into my pocket, unsure what else to do with it.
We sat in silence for a long moment, awkwardness creeping in.
“That means you’re supposed to say your name,” Kenyon whispered from the couch, loud enough that everyone could hear it, as though I hadn’t worked out basic social norms.
I fought back the desire to remind him that I did just fine, that it was they who had caused this weirdness.Who could keep their wits about them when surrounded by lunatic espers?
“My name is Yun Moore,” I offered, keeping my hands in my lap.
It was a trick I’d learned years before, to never put my hand out for a handshake.Other guides might be fine with casual touching, but I sure as fuck wasn’t.“The Guild sent me here.”
Carter waved that off, as though unimportant.“Yeah, yeah, the Guilds like to talk and work things out, our opinions be damned.Still, this isn’t a squad people are usually champing at the bit to join up with.Ingram might have the tact of a seven-year-old, but he isn’t wrong.Why’d you pull the short straw?”
His words lashed out, the sting not dulled despite the way he said them—lighthearted, as though we were having any casual discussion.
