Sorceress, Interrupted - By A. J. Menden Page 0,14

cheating investment banker? “Look, the bottom line is you wanted him gone, he’s gone.” I shrugged. “You had an escape clause to get out if you wanted; you used it. Now, because things didn’t work out the exact way you wanted, you don’t want to pay. That’s like going out to dinner and ordering the steak, eating it, and then telling the waiter that you changed your mind and wanted the salad instead, and that you’re not paying for the steak you just ate.”

She stared as if I were speaking a foreign language. “What are you talking about?”

All niceness faded and I slammed my glass down on the tray held out before me. “A lot of things in life don’t work out the way you want, and you have to live with the consequences. You ate the steak and now you’re going to pay for it.”

“Like hell I am,” the woman shrieked.

“That’s it.” I was on my feet. “You need to leave.” And with a few quick words in Italian and a wave of my hand, she was gone. “And I thought I was a spoiled brat,” I said.

I’d thought I was alone, apart from my djinns. I was wrong. A presence loomed behind me and I heard, “Where did you send her?”

“To a cabin in the hills of rural Tennessee. Not with her boyfriend, and not anywhere near a major city. And nowhere near Daddy and his money.”

“You’re getting soft in your old age.”

I sighed. “I’ll admit it’s not exactly what I wanted to do to her. Throwing her into an active volcano would have been better, but I think I can get some satisfaction out of her being lost in the mountains and eaten alive by mosquitoes instead of dining on room service at the Four Seasons.” I turned to face the speaker and said, “The Old One and his friends would probably frown on dumping semi-innocent people into molten lava. Did they let you out for good behavior?”

Cyrus grinned. “When have I ever been good, Fantazia?”

“Since you started shacking up with the EHJ. Or is that some sort of clever ruse?”

He shook his head. “Not a ruse. I’ve just turned my talents to the other side—still for monetary gain.”

“They can’t be paying you more than someone would pay for insight into their dirty little secrets.”

Cyrus shrugged. “Maybe I just don’t like looking over my shoulder for the law anymore. I’m basically a lazy person. You know that. Keeping your guard up all the time gets tiring.”

“Poor baby. So what are you doing slumming with me?” I rose and walked over to him. “Get tired of being around all the goody-goody girls? Felt the need to be around a bad one?” I patted him on the cheek.

He removed my hand. “You’re the baddest one of all,” he agreed. “That’s why it astounds me to report that they need you to watch Emily. One of the take-over-the-world types broke out of jail, and all hands are needed.”

I laughed. “Good God. Is that their rallying cry now—‘All hands’? What a pun.”

Cyrus grinned. “No, it’s not, but it is pretty good. Maybe I should suggest it to Paul.”

“Please do.” Just thinking of the stuffy coleader of the Elite Hands of Justice and his reaction to such a proposition was worth a chuckle. “So . . . if ‘all hands’ are needed, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you out there in the trenches, saving the world in spandex?”

He made a face. “I don’t have the body to pull that look off.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

He shot me the finger. “And I am doing something—I’m fetching you. I told you, sweetheart, I’m basically a lazy person. Once I get you over there to watch the kid, I’m going back to watching the game.”

“The game? You get that out of the Handbook of Generic Male Excuses or something?”

He gave me a dark look. “Fine. I’m going back to watching professional wrestling. There’s a steel-cage match between the Hillbilly and the Dark Reaper I want to see. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

“So, come on. The world’s ending and only you can save the Elite Hands of Justice from the horrors of babysitting duty.”

I was secretly happy that I’d get to hang out with Emily again but didn’t want to seem too eager. “I don’t know. I have duties here.”

He glanced around. “Like lounging around? No one’s here, Fantazia, no one but you and your creepy waitstaff. Come on, either you babysit Emily or I will, and