“I can get rid of him if you want,” I said to the woman. “He seems like a negative presence.”
“No, that’s quite all right.” The woman reached under the counter and came back with what looked like an identity card. Daisy’s picture showed at the top in a little square, her name and affiliation printed beneath it. Emblazoned in the corner was a red crest. “He used to get such joy out of micromanaging me and telling me what a bad job I was doing. Now, he can yell to his heart’s content, and when he realizes I can’t hear him, he’ll be in his own little hell. The office has been downright pleasant since he was mysteriously killed.”
“As soon as someone gets around to investigating, they’ll have you killed,” the man yelled. “You put as little effort into covering up the crime as you do your day-to-day work. Mark my words, your days are numbered.”
The woman focused on Daisy. “Keep that with you at all times. You have been granted access to all public areas of this island. Your presence here is official. Next?”
Mordecai stepped up, and they went through the same drill, the spirit grumbling all the while. After Mordecai received the same pass, we were sent on our way.
“I thought I’d get shade from the staff here,” Daisy said as we filed back into the limo.
I had a feeling the woman had intentionally acted nonchalant in order to upset her spirit boss, hovering over her in frustration.
Daisy’s knuckles turned white as she clutched the ID tightly. “That woman didn’t even show surprise,” she said.
“She seems like she has a tedious job,” Mordecai responded, and tucked his ID into his wallet. He wouldn’t need it like Daisy would. “She’s probably numb with boredom.”
“Or still pleased with herself for killing her old boss and getting away with it.” I looked out the window as another limo pulled up behind us. “Is that how things go here? Even if the staff is murdered, no one cares?”
Before the occupant of the limo stepped out, we were back on the small road leading to our quarters.
“Depends on the person who died and their value,” Kieran answered. “Clearly her boss wasn’t valuable enough to worry about. Given he was probably not well liked or respected, and couldn’t have had any family since no one raised a fuss…” He shrugged. “He’s out of her hair.”
“This magical world doesn’t seem so bad.” Daisy finally tucked away her ID.
“One trip to a seldom-used office should not color your view of the establishment,” Zorn growled. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Why are we leaving Red behind?” I asked as everyone readied for our first public stroll.
Kieran was showing off the best of his wares, me included. He’d parade us around, letting the other leaders size him up while their staffs sized us up. Daisy and Mordecai would be going as my wards. Kieran wanted to show we were a family.
“She doesn’t have a blood oath,” Bria said as she checked the contents of her backpack. “She doesn’t belong.”
The guys in the crew waited outside by the small fleet of golf carts and four-wheelers, our chief mode of transportation now that the last limo had been sent back. There went our chance for a limo chase, not that I’d been looking forward to it.
“Yeah, but…you don’t have a blood oath,” I replied as Daisy opened the side door of the warehouse-residence and waited for us.
Bria straightened up and slung her backpack over her shoulders. “Necromancers are kind of magical cowboys. We’re common enough that Demigods won’t go to war for a level five, and we typically go where we please. The best of us can definitely get placement in an inner circle, but it doesn’t weird people out if we don’t. We’re just the add-ons standing in the back. People try their best to ignore us. I mean, walking dead people around is hardly a glamorous profession. Red’s fighting magic is used for protection. Given her lack of a blood oath, if she came with us, it would look like she was brought along to protect you. That’s not the message Kieran wants to send.”
Everything had multiple layers of meaning in the magical world, something I doubted I’d ever understand. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I walked through the door and onto the stone walkway leading into a nice garden setup. A wooden gazebo sat off to the side, its sides covered in prickly vines dotted with little flowers. The chairs within it held bright yellow cushions with cute white buttons to match the flowers. A flamboyant tree lived up to its name, the bright red-orange flowers providing a spray of color. Horseshoe pits had been set up by a round patch of perfectly tended green grass. Multiple seating setups dotted the way along the path, with benches or chairs overlooking the ocean a hundred yards from our back door. They’d put the Demigod of Poseidon near the water, which was a nice touch.
The whole place was a nice touch, actually, spacious and welcoming, with everything we could want and an abundance of subtle luxuries. Only Kieran’s entertaining area was gaudy, if I was being honest. The rest seemed to flow more with the times and our tastes.
I suddenly wondered if he’d made sure that was the case, although that didn’t explain the hideousness of the front room.
The cats slunk out of the door before I could shut it.
“No, no, back in, you two.” I motioned at Havoc as Kieran strolled out past me, looking decadent in a crisp blue suit tailored to fit his perfect body. His black shoes gleamed in the dying light and a cream waistcoat and pocket square gave him a debonair look. He wore his hair in a stylish, messy do, short on the sides and long on top. He paused to wait for me, his stance easy and powerful and confident, as if nothing in the world could ruin his day or his carefully laid plans for world domination. He was the height of trendiness and all things sexy.
In contrast, I wore a loose, flowing number in plain gray that hid all my curves. The new stylist we’d brought, who hummed beautifully and didn’t talk much, had given me a messy, loose curl that made me look half crazy, a smoky eye, and one piece of jewelry—a sort of crystal that looked like it had come from a flea market. My team had gushed about my look, and I’d stood with a confused grin, waiting for the punch line.
Apparently the punch line was me, especially standing next to Kieran.
“The cats are coming,” Kieran said, holding out his hand for me.
The expression from earlier returned to my face, I knew it. Was this the joke? Were they intentionally dressing me up as a crazy cat lady?
“They don’t have leashes. I doubt animals are supposed to come.” I gestured Havoc back into the house. She was the leader—her brother did whatever she did.
“We need to set the precedent that those cats go where you go. They are protection as well as…very interesting. They’ll add to your profile. The cats need to come.”
“But…” I looked down at myself.
“You look beautiful and those cats are cool, baby. I promise, they’ll make you look more badass, not like a pajama-wearing…whatever Harding always calls you.”
“Pajama-wearing cat lady, and I call myself that, not him.” I deflated, knowing a lost cause when I saw one. “And if you think that’s bad, you should hear what he calls you.”