The walls of the root cellar seemed to close in on them, as Micah took over the ritual, with Cadmus still toomagick-fogged to resist.
Micah even let Jordy rip the duct tape off the male’s mouth, after slapping him back to a state of consciousness. Jordy had giggled—giggled!—and fawned over his nemesis, as he went through the steps and incantations, patiently allowing her to participate where it was appropriate.
Jordy even got to cut off small pieces of the male, using the very blade that was holstered into the scabbard on his belt. For some reason, she took special glee in picking out five small spots on his chest with the point of the blade. Micah was in on whatever the joke was, which was another way Cadmus was shut out. From his own recruit. In his own damn root cellar.
And there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
Once the screaming stopped, Micah and Jordy gave each other a high five, seemingly forgetting Cadmus’ presence. Or just not caring. It was one thing coming from Micah, but from this insignificant creature that he had been cultivating as a minion? Insufferable!
And then it got worse.
The vein in Cadmus’s forehead almost popped off his head, when Jordy started feeding Micah’s fascination with the Faire. She was bragging about how she could let him in through the staff entrance.
Cadmus stopped his mouth from curling up into a sneer. What was so special about going in through a back entrance? Or why would anyone with any modicum of good taste want to go at all?
But apparently Micah was impressed with Jordy’s access, in a way that made Cadmus’ objections seem…like that of someone from an older, outdated generation. Someone who just didn’t get it. Someone who was…irrelevant.
He had to nip that air of collusion that was rapidly forming between the two of them in the bud, and fast.
The only good thing that came from the dreadful long night was Micah’s regretful announcement that he had booked an early morning flight, and would have to leave directly for the airport very soon.
Apparently he had known all along that he would be leaving, but preferred to keep Cadmus….squirming. If Cadmus didn’t hate Micah so much, he would feel actual admiration.
Micah offered to drive Jordy back to the Faire on his way to the airport, and the two of them left, chattering about topics that were as foreign to Cadmus as Quantum Physics or even basic hygiene would be to Billy Bob.
At least the vile suckup would be capable of getting rid of the car that Jordy’s victim drove. He was good for selling, bartering, or just plain disappearing body parts and material goods.
Cadmus tossed the uneaten travesty masquerading as a club sandwich into the garbage. Later on that evening, he would re-energize the tracking pendulum with the power of the moonlight, and resume the search for the man-wolf. In the meantime, he would go upstairs and get some much needed sleep.
He checked that the ringer of his phone was still off, as it had been from the beginning of the ritual, and left it on the kitchen table. Now that he had made the decision to go to bed, a wave of exhaustion hit him with the force of a tsunami. He trudged up the stairs, visualizing Micah’s face on each tread, pressing his weight into each step.
Each step that took him away from the table in the kitchen, where his phone was lighting up. A call was coming through.
Caller unknown.
After a moment it stopped, and no message was left.
