Page 18 of Heart of a Witch
“Aren’t you going to give that place up soon?” he asked. “Once you become a hunter? I mean, you’re of age.”
“I don’t know if I’ll go on to be a hunter yet,” I replied. “The club is doing well. He’ll see that and lay off the pressure. I just need to get the numbers to him.”
He chuckled. “Why not? Afraid of getting your freshly pressed suit dirty?”
“I’m not afraid of anything. I just don’t want to spend my time chasing demons when I could be making real money.”
“We both know you don’t need it.”
“We mustn’t become complacent, Charles. I want to make my own name, build my own wealth, not run around tearing out witches’ hearts.”
The door creaked open, and a bleary-eyed Corbin trudged through. “Don’t let Damian hear you talking like that, or you know what will happen.”
I shot him a warning glare. “Shouldn’t you be at the academy?”
He shrugged. “You going to make me?”
Charles whistled, then clicked his tongue. “If you were my brother, I’d have kicked you to the curb already.”
I placed a hand on my friend’s shoulder. “Settle down. Corbin’s just going through something.”
“He’s an embarrassment to your family’s name.”
Corbin rolled his dark eyes. “I’m right here.”
Charles gritted his teeth. “I need to go anyway. I’m meeting Elizabeth downtown. I’m taking her to the theater.”
“Have fun.” Corbin hissed, then opened the door for him to leave.
Charles shot him a look before walking out the door, then called back to me. “Good luck.”
Once I was certain he was gone, I grabbed Corbin’s wrist and pulled him into the parlor, clicking the door shut behind us. “Has the liquor gone to your fucking head, brother? Do you know what would happen if that got out? You’re lucky Charles didn’t catch on when you said ‘or you know what will happen.’”
He slumped into a forest-green armchair. “We’ll be disgraced,” he said with a smirk. “So? The people in this town should know what Damian’s really like.“
“So?” I paced in front of the antique fireplace, catching my worried expression in the mirror. “We have a reputation to uphold.”
“No.” He put a finger in the air. “You have a reputation to uphold. I have liquor to drink and books to read.”
I inhaled deeply. “Don’t tell me you’re still reading that poetry?”
He moved his dark strands from over his face. “It’s called fiction, and I like it. The stories feel so real. They connect me to something deeper than I have in real life.”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead, briefly closing my eyes. “Fine, just don’t go telling anyone. It’s bad enough everyone already thinks you’re strange.”
“Do you, brother?” He arched an eyebrow. “Areyouashamed of me?”
I thought for a moment. “No.”
A hint of a smile crossed his lips. “Good. You haven’t completely turned into the asshole you pretend to be—well, the one you actually are sometimes.”
“Are you done?” I walked to the drinks cabinet, which masqueraded as an old globe. I poured a whiskey, relishing in the sharp spicy aftertaste. “On another note, you need to be careful about leaving bottles lying around for anyone to find.”
“We’re in our own home.”
“You know as well as I how many people come through here.”
He clicked his tongue. “When Damian is here, yes. Not right now though.”
