Sin & Chocolate Page 57

“Oh yeah?” I said, trying not to move my lips. I didn’t want neighbors to glance out their windows and catch me talking “to myself.” “What did he do?”

“He jumped and looked around.” Frank preened. “I didn’t know I still had it in me.”

The lurker had probably felt a sudden icy stab that had set his hair on end. Knowing what I was, he’d probably guessed exactly what had happened. That would freak a great many people out.

I smirked. “Keep up the good work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Frank saluted me in a way that made it clear he’d never served in the armed forces.

Back in the house, I debated throwing the envelope in the trash. I even opened the lid and held it over the bin, staring down at it. But I caved, the silence ringing loudly in the kitchen. The kids clearly knew who had sent it, and what it possibly held.

The first sheet of paper held a simple message and directions, followed by a small picture of a map.

Meet me to discuss. —Kieran

Butterflies swam through my belly.

I separated two packets, each with its own cover letter. The first was from the office of Kieran Dursus.

“The details of his job offer,” I said quietly, skimming the cover letter before turning the page and reading through the description of the services he’d requested. The simple job of helping his mother cross over was described with a great many unnecessary details from someone who thought they understood my job and clearly did not.

Mandatory séance? Spirit communication devices?

“Why the hell would I use a tape recorder?” I muttered. “Those things catch one word in ten. Spirit box? Oh now, they’re just taking the piss altogether.”

I kept flipping through.

My breath caught.

My hand started to shake.

Without another word, I passed that page on to the kids.

“What is it?” Daisy asked Mordecai, taking the page and quickly huddling with him. “Holy shit.”

“Language,” I said in a wispy voice.

“A hundred thousand base salary, with perks.” Her eyes rounded and she looked at Mordecai. “What do you think the perks are?”

“Breakfast, maybe. Some companies do donuts in the morning.” He took the paper, skimming the contents. His eyes stopped moving and a wistful expression crossed his face.

He’d seen the benefit section, which covered all of my family, including undocumented wards (their names were listed). 401k, dental…and full medical, both magical and non-magical. Mordecai’s medicine would be covered, he’d have access to routine checkups, and if he was a candidate for the cure, he’d have access to it.

He tossed the packet on the table angrily. “He’s trying to buy her.”

“Obviously. But wow.” Daisy blew out a breath. “He thinks she’s worth a lot.”

“That’s because she is.” Mordecai turned away toward the fridge.

“Yes, Mordie, we know she is worth more than a basket of gold and chocolate. But usually we’re the only ones.” She moved closer to the table. “Then again, she’s a bona fide class-five magical worker.” She reached across the table for her clipboard. “We need to find out what someone like her is worth in the job market. He could be shortchanging us. That bitch already owes us money for the freak show thing. I haven’t forgotten. I’ll be damned if he’s going to get one over on us again.”

“That one’s mine, right?” Mordecai asked softly, glancing at the shaking packet in my hands.

I didn’t look up from the cover page. I didn’t want him to see my fear.

This packet would tell me if my inability to keep him stocked up on medicine had damaged him for life. That, or it would tell me there was still hope, but only if I willingly put myself into the hands of an egotistical, possessive Demigod who was about to be in a fight with his homicidal father.

“I’ll do the honors,” Daisy said softly, putting down her clipboard. She’d clearly noticed my expression and read the situation. She gingerly took the packet.

Mordecai turned to stare out the window, not seeing the curtain in the way.

She took a deep breath, pulled the cover page up, and then tucked it behind the rest of the packet.

“Read it out loud,” Mordecai said. “It doesn’t matter regardless. There’s no sense in beating around the bush.”

“Forty-four percent corrosive cells,” she read, her brow furrowing. “Seven-two percent responsiveness…” She shook her head and turned another page. Then another. “Ah. Here. A summary.” A relieved smile crossed her face. “Damage rate is borderline critical, but”—her smile widened—“likelihood of… I can’t pronounce this, but the procedure for people like him is ninety-two percent likely to prove effective!” She looked between me and Mordecai excitedly, then went back to the summary. “If he does not get the procedure, likelihood of his condition improving with continued medication…is dim, okay, fine, but…” She traced a line with her finger. “The likelihood of his condition staying stable with continued medication is a strong possibility.” She dropped the page, joy radiating from her whole body. “He’s okay! He could be better, sure, but as long as he gets his meds, he’ll be okay.”

Pain soaked through my middle and tears welled in my eyes. I turned away toward the coffee pot so they didn’t see. “Except I don’t have a job, Daisy. And now I don’t have the freak show. I have no way to earn money. What happens when the meds run out again?”

“You don’t need the freak show. We can take your act to the streets.” Daisy snatched up her clipboard. “There has to be a dark alley where your caliber of magic would really sing.”

Her enthusiasm was admirable, but it didn’t stop the tears from rolling down my face. Utter helplessness dragged at me. Fear for the future. Sorrow at what Mordecai was going through. I could end this. I could fix it.

What was a Demigod’s gilded cage if it saved a loved one from a life of pain?

“We still have that other medicine to sell,” Daisy said, her voice ringing with determination and confidence. “You can ask around at that bar you go to. From your stories, it sounds like those people would know how to unload it, or they may be in the market themselves.” I heard her pen scratching on paper. “I can still take a job with Denny’s dad. I won’t give myself away. I know I won’t. So that’ll hold us over for a while…”

“You’re not taking that job, Alexis,” Mordecai said softly, cutting through Daisy’s planning.

“No way.” Daisy’s pen smacked the paper. “Like, really? He’s going to try to blackball you, then deliver this, and expect you to just cower at his feet? No.” She was writing again. “I say we egg his car. Didn’t you say he had a really nice car? Well, eggs would ruin the paint. The punishment would fit the crime.”

“I would be down for that,” Mordecai said.

I blew out a long breath, letting my emotions run their course. Letting all this wash over me.

“We can make it,” Daisy said. “We can. I know we can.”

“I agree.” Mordecai turned away from the sink. “Next year, I’ll be sixteen, then I can get a work permit. I can get medical myself, or just help with the bills. We’ll have enough. We just have to get through one more year.”

“Easy,” Daisy said. “We just need to figure out this dark alley idea until we can get into the new freak show. I know, what about—”

I laughed silently through my tears. They were resilient, these kids. True survivors.

“Okay,” I said, marshaling my resolve. “Okay. We’ll do this as a family. But…” I wiped my face really quickly and turned toward them with my finger held out. “If we run out of medicine again, I’m taking that job.”

“We won’t.” Daisy gave Mordecai a comforting look. “We won’t run out. We’ll keep you steady until we can get you that procedure. We’ll do it.”

I nodded as determination rose through me. Followed by anger.

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