“Yes, your grace, that’s me.”
I glanced between the two. Mordecai lifted his chin, studying Tarik down the line of his nose. “Mordecai will do. What’s your interest in this position, Tarik?”
“Well, sir, I couldn’t pass up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. What an honor for us lowly Fae to be offered jobs from the esteemed dragon himself.” Tarik plastered a fake smile on his face—I fought to stifle a laugh at the absurdity.
Mordecai shoved his chair back, eyes narrowing as he stepped around the table. My stomach dropped, humor gone. He swooped into a predatory stance, circling Tarik slowly, examining the Fae from head to toe. When he stopped he was right in front of him, a tad too close for my own comfort.
“And is there truth to the rumors that you can’t seem to hold a job?” The small smile on Mordecai’s lips sent a shiver down my spine, but he continued. “And that you regularly cause issues for my daughter and the other shifters who frequent The Pit?”
Tarik’s eyes practically glittered. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “More like they can’t handle all of this.” He made a gesture spanning the length of his body, adding as an afterthought, “Your highness.”
Mordecai licked his lips. He stared into Tarik’s eyes for a moment, then blinked. I knew that look. That decisiveness.
“You’re awfully arrogant to come asking for a job and then present yourself in such a manner.” Mordecai stepped away, circling back to his perch behind the desk. His smirk was vile. “But I'll tell you what. Find one shifter. One. Who will vouch for you. And you can have this job.”
I stared a little too hard at the uneven floor, swallowing the knot in my throat. No other shifter was going to speak in his favor. Not one. But if I did, what would Mordecai think? Had Alec told him about that Fae rumor, so now he was fact checking me?
The silence in the room was palpable. My eyes finally lifted to Tarik’s face, to the tension lining his shoulders, to the fists trembling at his sides. Damnit. I tried to imagine myself in his shoes, with that little boy, Benji, needing him. His mouth slid open and I took a step forward. “Father, I’ll speak for him.”
Tarik’s troublemaker mouth snapped shut. Mordecai’s stare locked onto mine, his voice low when he asked, “Why?”
“The shifters at The Pit might complain about him, but they like that he’s there. They can bet on the fights and Tarik gets to blow off steam. I’m the one who deals with the problems down there every night. I’ve seen what goes on myself.” I licked my lips, bought myself the split second I needed to come up with an excuse. In for a penny . . . “And I was the reason he lost his last job. I pissed off a couple of the shifters when I told them to lay off him. They found him later. He wasn’t able to work the next day. If I had done my job properly, he wouldn’t have been late.”
Mordecai stared at me—really stared—and I squirmed at the carefully bottled fury lurking in his eyes. There would be a discussion later. Probably a punishment. I had teetered over that line of getting too close to the Fae, and he had warned me. My fingers slid to the scars at my throat, before I realized and jerked them away. Still, I couldn’t let Tarik lose this job now that I knew what—or who—the position was really for. Even if he couldn’t keep his damned mouth shut, and Mordecai was playing games.
Punishment or no.
“So be it,” Mordecai said quietly. Jocelyn bounced around the desk and extended a hand toward Tarik.
“Welcome aboard,” she said. Her widespread, toothy grin reminded me of the clowns I had been afraid of as a child. Innocent enough, until they were standing over you in your sleep. A shiver raced up my spine. If Mordecai trusted her, I didn’t.
“Be here first thing tomorrow morning. Eight. Do not be late, and leave your attitude at home.” Mordecai’s voice was still too soft, too low. I could vomit.
Without a word I motioned at Tarik to follow, clutching the tablet a little too close to my chest as I led him up the spiral staircase. He remained silent. For once. Back in the foyer, the next Fae applicant stood waiting inside the doorway.
“Wait.” Spoken so softly, I almost missed the word. I turned to find Tarik studying me, a crease bisecting his brows. “Why did you do that for me? After all the things I’ve said to you?”
“I don’t know.” I stared at the floor. My stomach still felt wrong, and not because of the mines this time. Mordecai was angry. And all because of a Fae I had been dead set and determined to abandon last night. He had a death wish and I didn’t have the heart to watch another light get snuffed out by this city. But his tiny revelation about the boy had given me pause. So here I was, opening my big mouth . . . “Come on, there’s other applicants for me to take down.”
Before brushing past me, he paused, then said, “I’m not forgetting who you are, but I’m not forgetting what you’ve done, either.” He parted with, “See you around, stalker.”
I watched him leave, the door closing heavily behind him. What had I done? I had helped him, despite his attitude and all his protests. The next Fae followed me when I gestured, verifying his name before I settled back into my thoughts. I had set out to help him and I had accomplished that.
But what will be the cost?
My blood ran cold. Tarik was trouble, and I gravitated to trouble. To the dying, the sick, the abused. To the one Fae
