Chapter 4: Chapter Four

“This place really needs an elevator,” Jake said when he walked into my apartment, favoring his left leg.

“We do have one, but it’s broken. I told you I would come to your place!” I grabbed the food from him and set it on the coffee table.

“Yeah, but tradition.” He sat down heavily on the couch and leaned his cane against the couch, then straightened his leg. He’d never admit he was aching, but I could see it in the pinch between his brows. “We going to talk about today?”

I grabbed the frozen vegetables from the freezer and dropped them over his lower thigh before I laid out Lebanese takeout. We always ate from one of our favorite places on the first night of a mission, a celebration that we’d made it through the day. The first day was often the hardest as we adjusted to our new surroundings and cover identities.

“She is being quite reticent,” Sebastian offered from his preferred spot on my couch.

“Why tell the same story twice?” I defended.

“What, pray tell, happened?”

I handed Jake a fork and his fatuous salad, and he lifted the corner of his mouth in thanks. Sebastian glided to the other end of the couch.

“Someone got…” Jake took a bite, “distracted.”

I ignored them and grabbed my chicken shawarma. I knew I should be eating a salad, but today I needed carbs and hummus. Maybe it would dislodge the pit in my stomach whenever I thought about Carma.

“Distracted?” Sebastian’s gaze turned to me.

“By one of the marks.”

“I wasn’t distracted!” I defended through a mouthful of food. Dammit, there went my not getting involved. “I ran into her, got a bit wobbly, and then she introduced herself and walked me across the hall. It’s not as if we had high tea together.”

“It isn’t the length of time that concerns me.” Jake pointed his fork at me. “It’s the ‘wobbly.’”

When I finished licking the hummus from my fingers, I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my stomach. “Hit the spot.” The pit had definitely shrunk now that it had to contend with food. Maybe it wasn’t a pit at all, just hunger. Yes, that was it.

“You done making us wait now?”

“I’m allowed to think someone is attractive without making it weird. And it was like a five-second meeting, calm down. You’ve thought plenty of marks were attractive before.”

“There’s a difference between finding someone attractive and being wobbly,” he shot back. “And you had that face.”

“What face?”

“The face you get when you’re flirting.”

“I did not!”

Sebastian looked between us. “This is better than a night out at the opera, although there’s regrettably a notable lack of opera dancers.”

“You blushed!” Jake threw out.

Sebastian gasped.

Dammit. “It was eighty-five today! I was just warm.”

“It was sixty-seven inside,” my partner added.

“Listen, I can think a mark is attractive and…like…flirt information out of her.” That was a stretch.

“That’s entirely rubbish and you know it,” Sebastian chimed in. “I’ve heard you flirting on the phone and it is always disconcerting.” He fake shuddered.

I balled up a napkin and threw it at him. Well, through him.

“Just be careful,” Jake advised. “Getting involved with a mark is off-limits.”

“She’s just an attractive woman. There’s nothing to be careful about. I’m not going to take her clothes off with my teeth. I’m just going to get information out of her.” My job wasn’t just a job. It was a vocation, a calling, a way of life. No way would I risk it for a few sweaty nights between the sheets.

I stood and refilled our glasses of water to break the tension. “So, what’d you find out today?” I asked when I had returned to my seat.

He was silent for a long moment before responding. “Next month, there are seven camps launching in Michigan alone, including the first one in Northern Michigan. There’s already a waiting list a hundred people deep, despite it being in the middle of literal nowhere.”

I frowned. “That’s unexpected.” My mind raced, trying to pinpoint why they would host a retreat in a place mostly filled with vacation homes, instead of extravagant cities with top plastic surgeons. Then it snagged on one important detail. “Isn’t there a supernatural town up there?”

Jake nodded. “Yep, Hayvenwood. The camp’s like ten miles west of them. I talked to one of the former hunters, Loren. He worked for the elite SHAP offshoot—HQ—and he promised to keep an ear to the ground. They have some witches, a few werewolves, and a dragon on their radar.”

“That’ll be an interesting report.” Grabbing my bureau-issued laptop, I sat down next to Jake, then placed my badge in the card reader so I could log into SHAP’s secure internet database. “I think there’s a ninety percent chance something supernatural is going on here. It would explain what I found in the file. But whatever the supernatural element is, our watches aren’t calibrated to it. We should try and get a blood sample.”

I opened the photos I took with my glasses and scrolled to the member contract. “The line about pregnancy, and only ingesting Thinner-approved food items. Could be a potion or a curse infused into an edible.”

Jake leaned forward, studying the screen. Even Sebastian—he who never touched computers, as they offended his upper crust sensibilities—appeared at my other side. “Is that even possible?” my partner asked.

I shrugged. “Forbidden magic is some freaky shit.”

He looked out the window, tapping his thumb against his chin. “We need to get access to a food sample, but they’re under lock and key. They require members to show identification and sign for each kit. Every used container is saved and sent back to the company for processing to continue the ‘no-cost supply.’”

I shook my head. “How’s that not suspicious?”

He turned to me and raised his eyebrow. “Exactly.”

Sebastian looked at us. “No one has derailed a parcel? Stolen a sample?”

“Not yet,” Jake said. “We’re working on it.”

“I’ll get into the cafeteria,” I promised.

“You don’t have access unless you’re a member.”

“I’m the CEO’s assistant. Watch me.”

“Let’s make a bet.”

“Those are my four favorite words. What’s it gonna be, partner?”

He crossed his arms. “If I get the sample first, you have to let my stepmom redecorate this living room.”

I gaped. Sebastian gasped and fell to the floor, doing his best dramatic faint. “Wow. Okay, if that’s how we’re playing it.” I straightened my shoulders. “If I win, you have to adopt a ghost agent.”

He stared at me as if I had cursed his first-born child. “Wow. Wow. You are going in for the kill.”

Reggie appeared. “Sebastian just melted through the ceiling. ¿Qué pasó?”

Sebastian popped back up through the floor. “They’ve called for a duel at dawn. They’re going to name their seconds.”

Reggie ran over to the armchair and sat down. “Should I make popcorn?” Sebastian sat on the armrest next to him, giving him a recap.

“You up for this, Summers? Magnolia is gonna make it look like a Crate and Barrel exploded in here when she’s done.”

“You mean, you’re going to have a new roommate who will dig deep into your life and never leave you alone?”

“I think she’s talking about you, mano,” Reggie said to Sebastian. Sebastian shushed him.

“Well, Mina. Do you accept the terms?”

I smiled. It was going to be so fun watching a ghost agent torture him, too. “Yes, Jake. I accept the terms.”

Sebastian stood and walked over. “Shake hands, and I will pronounce the duel official.”

I stuck out my hand and Jake clasped it in his, each of us gripping as hard as we could. “With this handshake, the bet has been set in stone.” He hovered his hand on top of ours. “May the best human win.”

The sound of a video call ringing on my computer broke the excitement. I let out a string of expletives that made Sebastian blush, or would have if he had blood. He grabbed Reggie’s hand and tipped his top hat, before disappearing from sight. Sure, he leaves now when he could be useful.

“So. Your dad?” Jake asked.

Holding my breath, I accepted the call. I opened my mouth to say “Hi, Dad” to the bulky, balding man on my screen, but he leapt into his speech before I had a chance.

“Both there. Good. Update.”

How my mother—a former jazz singer turned environmentalist—ever got together with this taciturn husk of a man, I’d never know. “We believe there’s something telling in the Thinner food and we’re debating how to source it.”

Dad’s face didn’t change. “Priority.”

I did not respond with “no shit, Sherlock.” Out loud, anyway. “Yes, sir.”

Jake motioned with his pointer, shifting attention to him. “Sir, the food is well-regulated, but it is one of our priorities. We have also found out some additional information I will email in a report to you this evening.”

My father looked at his limited edition Shinola watch, silently asking why he didn’t have the report yet. Jake, who wasn’t afraid of my father, just smiled. “It was first-day mission dinner, sir. I’m leaving right now to work on the report.”

“Roger.”

Jake stood with a long exhale, despite my puppy-dog eyes silently pleading with him to stay. He walked to the other side of the camera and held up his cell, indicating I should text him later. I waved and refocused on the impatient man on the screen. He was only seven miles away, but it felt like seven universes. “What’s up, Dad?”

His eyebrow twitched. “Your email.” He held up a printed copy of the email I had sent to his assistant two days ago, asking for an update on the current interim RD. I wanted to make sure I knew who I needed to beat. “Focus. On. Your. Mission.”

I opened my mouth to argue but snapped it shut. Fighting would be completely draining and useless. “Roger,” I responded, through gritted teeth.

With a nod, he ended the video call.

I slammed my computer shut and let out a cry of anger, wishing I could go hit a punching bag. My shoulder wouldn’t let me. It had been put back together with screws and staples. Instead, I’d run. I hated running nearly as much as I hated cucumbers, but desperate times.

I changed into my workout clothes and shoved my remaining chopstick in my pocket just in case I got any more happy visitors, then stretched far too quickly for it to matter. I grabbed my headphones and shoved them into my ears, cranking up the volume on my favorite band’s Spotify playlist. I was out the door and down the stairs before the chorus of the Sorry Charlie song hit, my feet slamming into the pavement with each beat.

I leaned into the screaming of my muscles, the sweat, the exhaustion from being active and social all day after sitting at home alone—except for with Sebastian and occasionally Reggie—for sixteen weeks and let the anger fizzing in my chest burn itself out. Fatigue hit me a half mile in, an unsubtle reminder I hadn’t been exercising enough, and I pushed another two miles just to prove to myself I could. I wasn’t weak; I wasn’t incompetent. I would make a damn fine RD, no matter what my dad thought.

When I trudged back in, legs no sturdier than spaghetti and shoulder screaming from being jostled, Sebastian was waiting for me in the armchair. My chest tightened at the small, silent show of friendship. He hated that damn chair.

“Bathe,” he ordered. “Then join me for a cinematic adventure.”

I snuck a sniff of my armpit and winced. Oh yeah, I needed a shower before climbing into bed. “What’re we watching?”

“Doesn’t matter, as long as the actress possesses generous bosoms.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re gross. Don’t follow me into the shower.”

He brought his hand to his chest, affronted. “I may be many things, Mina, but I would never betray your trust as such. I only jump into people’s bathing chambers when I need to scare them.”

I paused before walking down the hall. “Who’d you scare in the shower?” I looked over my shoulder.

A wicked smile engulfed his face. “That miscreant you met at the grocery store. I forgot his name. I caught him talking very rudely to his friend about you. He was showering, and I just happen to pop in and say hi. He tripped, screamed, and ran out naked.”

I turned fully to face him, mouth hanging open. “That explains so much about the phone call.” Said miscreant had been a short fling last year, an indulgence I rarely allowed myself to have. I had left him at my place to grab breakfast, and he had called me in a panic saying he had to go and to delete his number.

“You’re my favorite ghost,” I admitted.

He nodded. “My long-suffering father would tell you you’re daft but thank you. You’re very dear to me as well.” He held up his hand. “I’ll never reiterate that. Be gone.”

With a small smile, I bounced to the bathroom. So what if my be sties were my coworker and a dead duke and my life was my job? It still wasn’t as weird as whatever was happening at Thinner.