So, I held my tongue and wondered why I had wanted to tell him in the first place. So, instead of divulging intimate secrets, I made a note to investigate the magic that made me want to speak so candidly.
Chapter Three
Greginald
The legal intern left, carrying my assembled documents in a canvas tote bag I’d had lying around, shoulders hitched and breath deep with a hidden yawn. He’d had second portions of the risotto, making noises that were nearly obscene. For such an uptight young male, he melted under food. Free food.
I saw a future with more visits from the male, considering his unhealthy, lean posture.
As his shadow followed his way out, the shape of it grew horns and grinned devilishly at me, through a jack-o-lantern smile.Creepy little blighter.
And that memory stuck with me the entire day. He was an omega, for certain. That scent and build were unmistakable. I didn’t know what to expect next, so I went about business as usual.
Over the next few days, I had stop-ins from the usual clientele purchasing their teas and a litany of women seeking my spell work. The medical system had sorely missed an opportunity for good when they slacked on women’s and omega’s research. In those instances, magic seemed to flourish and was cheaper, too. The only downside? Few were as qualified as they claimed, regulations were lax, andreligion. I needn’t have to elaborate, but it seemed like half of all human religions had compunctions with magic, women, omegas, or an odd fascination with whose penis went where.
As long as everyone involved is consenting. Sex is like magic. Why the fuck do I care? Nobody wants to involve me in their spellwork.
I rifled through an inventory log as I brought a cart with a scale on it round my shelves. I kept a tare weight on everyjar and did a quick calculation to make sure my needs were met. Powdered ginger was running low, as usual, as well as pink peppercorns and amanita mushrooms. They were brilliant in spell work with the right permit and prescription but were mostly used by humans for getting higher than, pardon my French, a giraffe’s nutsack.
Again, I found myself thinking of Esmeray. Strikingly dark hair fell in a sleek swoop, piercing eyes as orange as flame, and lips narrow, but full. Kissable. I shook my head and flinched as my ears slapped my horns. I needed a date, or at least some tension relief. I thought of hiring an incubus for an evening, getting a massage and working some of mykinksout.
Kinks that, with an incubus, would be pointless. The things I craved were unconventional. I needed submission, desperation, and a specific kind of irrevocable consent. In short, I needed a slave bound to me in despicable ways.
I also needed to get my mind out of the gutter before it got away with me.
As if on cue, a lovely distraction marched through my front door with a scowl and a mustache that should have been illegal. And, from the scent of it, nothing more than a cigarette smoke filter on his upper lip. The cloying odor offended me from as high up as I was.
The chime of bells preceded the human, his watery pale eyes glancing around the place as he rested one hand protectively near his gun and did the cowboy walk I’d come to expect from men with a hero complex stewing in inferiority trying to waddle around too big of a belt. “I’m looking for Graginal.”
The way he pronounced my name, like vaginal with a “gr” made me cringe. “By chance, do you mean Mage Greginald Hawthorne?”
He looked up then up again as I rounded the corner of a shelf and stared down at him. He didn’t bother hiding thedisgust in his gaze. I could almost hear his thoughts whispering,mongrim.
I’d have expressed more disgust or protested, but magic rarely beat gun in the rock, paper, scissors of life. “How may I help you?”
“You can help me by being normal for a minute so we can talk.” The way he saidnormalmade my nerves ache and magic fizzle to the surface.
“I amnormal, but if you’re asking that I shift to speak to you eye to eye, that is doable and probably the better way to ask.” I said it with a smile as I let my features shift and felt my magic lock my head into place, eyesight adjusting.
“I’m going to need you to come down to the station and answer some questions.” He reached toward his side pocket, fingers resting on his handcuffs.
“Am I under arrest?” I kept my hands on the cart and in full view so as not to spook the bug-eyed male into giving me a spare unwelcome orifice.
“Not yet.” His upper lip twitched.Cop speak for no.
“Would you prefer to transport me there?” I offered my best smile, and he nodded, eyes trailing about as if he expected something spooky to jump out and bite him.
Giraffe teeth weren’t nearly as sharp as I’d have liked. So, no biting would occur.
“That’s that, then. May I ask what I’ll be questioned about?” The hopeful question got nothing more than a grumble, something about security or confidentiality.
“Let me put it this way. Is it magic or my business related?” I stared him down.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Now, while we are here, I have books, references, my permits, licenses, client lists, schedules, and work logs. Which would prove useful for me to bring?” I waited.
“Client list, work log, schedule, and everything you have on death magic.” He stared me down. “You are a necromancer, right?”
