Broken Throne Complete Boxed Set Page 8

  “Well, that’s all different now. If Mom gets much worse, she won’t be able to take care of herself at all. I’ll have to find her round-the-clock care or put her in a home. And both of those options are even more expensive than the meds. My only choice is to suck it up and deal.”

  “Alright. I’ll tell him I found someone else to fill the job. It’s night work, so you should still be able to run the shop.”

  “I have to. I need every penny. Thanks, Tris. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s your life. Just don’t take it out on me when Hodges decides to unload on you and start an argument. If you get fired, he’ll come and blame me. Remember that.”

  Winnie considered her prospects. If she could make enough at night, she could possibly cover the escalated cost of meds. Maybe.

  She could tolerate a lot for her mom.

  Because, of course, Winnie owed her everything.

  “Durham! You slacker bitch, get over here.”

  Winnie straightened from where she was clearing a clogged drain pipe one frustrated scoop at a time and turned around. She wanted to cry, exhausted after a week of working herself raw at the shop all day before coming to kill herself here for another eight hours.

  “Yes, sir.” She peeled off the rubber gloves. Her dustbin and its filthy contents tumbled into the bag attached to her housekeeping cart. She looked up at the angry man standing in the bathroom doorway, short and squat, cigar stub clenched between his grimy, yellow teeth. “What did you need, Mr. Hodges?”

  Spittle flew as he snarled back. “What I need is a world without chanter bitches like you screwing up my building all the time. Did you get upstairs to fix the central vac like I asked you to?”

  “You told me to unclog this drain first.”

  “Don’t tell me what I told you to do. You should have gotten this done an hour ago. The Barber firm upstairs needs their conference room cleaned. They have a big morning meeting and Mr. Barber wants everything in order before he goes. A man in his position shouldn’t have to worry.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.” Winnie throttled the urge to unleash her tongue, averting her eyes from his boiling glare. She wiped her hands on her already grimy gray apron and pushed her cart towards the staff elevator.

  “Durham. What do you think you’re doing? You haven’t finished cleaning the bathroom. Are you completely useless?”

  “No, sir. Sorry, sir. I’ll finish up here and then go right upstairs.”

  “You chanter bitches are so stupid, it’s a wonder you manage to reproduce at all. I don’t see how you could figure out the old in-and-out if you can’t figure out how to clean a bathroom. You’re all idiots, sluts, and slackers … ” He slammed the door, ranting in a faded echo as he made his way down the hallway.

  Winnie looked down at her hands, clenched tightly enough to the cart to turn her knuckles bright white. She thought of magical ways to wage war on this man. She wanted to make his clothing leech estrogen into his system, shrinking his genitals and turning his man-boobs into genuine breasts. Maybe then he’d empathize with the women he put down.

  She considered how the spell would work. Her heart raced, the thrill narcotic as she wove the charm in her mind.

  For a moment, she was entirely gone, out of her mind, teetering at the edge of nothing.

  She almost lost control. It was almost the end.

  Winnie almost let go.

  But the spell didn’t leave her, and Hodges’s hormone levels remained unchanged.

  “Stop.” Winnie’s voice quivered as she forced herself to surrender.

  Her hands trembled as she collapsed in a heap and leaned against the wall. What was she doing? Dark magic was only for the Sable trade. But was that what Sable chanters felt when casting their spells?

  Winnie already felt haunted by what she’d felt only moments before, like a person living in tundra feeling the kiss of a Mediterranean sun before being told it would be ice forever after all.

  Standing, she walked to the sink, splashed water on her face, and stared into the mirror, searching her eyes for answers.

  Winnie was stepping into something dangerous. Dark magic, just like Joey.

  He’d dabbled for reasons she had never understood before now, and had been hooked in no time. He was clean now, thanks to Winnie, her mom, and their unwavering support.

  Joey used to buy Sable boxes from a local dealer. The boxes let chanters cast spells directly on living organic matter. It amplified the euphoria. The boxes were filled with microbial cultures that the Sable junkies could use to get high without casting their spells against humans or animals. But you can’t solve an addiction by redirecting its attention. From petty theft to gambling, Joey found himself in trouble more often than not, trying to scrap a way into his next high.

  She’d tasted the divine, but she had to let it go. Even though now she felt empty.

  Winnie looked at her reflection, wondering what she would look like strung out like Joey always used to.

  “I’m no junky,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll never do that again. I don’t need the magic to control me or define who I am.”

  Her tired face stared back. She sort of smoothed her rumpled clothes, then tried and failed to wrestle the wisps of hair escaping her ponytail.

  Turning away from the mirror, Winnie took her mop out and started to wipe the mess from the floor around the drain. Hodges wouldn’t wait long before coming back to see if she’d cleaned the conference room.

  One squeaky clean bathroom later, Winnie pushed her cart to the elevator and jabbed the button for Barber’s floor. Her stomach growled and she glanced at her watch. She was due for a break and wouldn’t feel so on edge if she could finally eat.

  Winnie pushed her cart through the opening doors and bumped into something. A pained grunt echoed back into the elevator. Winnie swallowed.

  Danny Barber’s eyes were on fire.

  Then something like recognition lit him and melted his features. Softer, he said, “Winnie?”

  “Oh, hello. I was, uh, just about to clean these offices.” She brushed at a stray strand of hair and noticed her grimy nails.

  “I didn’t know you worked here, too.”

  “Nothing wrong with the occasional odd job.”

  Danny laughed. “Never said there was.” He glanced up at the door. “My father’s offices. He had a catered dinner tonight and wanted to introduce me to what he calls the ‘right people.’ I’d rather hang with any of you than the snooty old coots he wants me to shake hands with. By the way, was that one of your friends working with you the other night? Skinny kid with the dark circles under his eyes?”

  “That’s my cousin Joey. Why?”

  “Seeing you reminded me where I’d seen him before. I ran into him earlier, before dinner. I was at a … local business establishment that specializes in games of chance. He was there and seemed to be in some sort of trouble. There were a few goons, bouncer types, dragging him out of the room. He was clearly upset, kept saying something about how he could pay for the boxes.”

  “Boxes? He used those words?”

  “Or something like that.” Danny smiled. “It was good running into you. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

  She watched him leave. Ordinarily, she’d be embarrassed by the encounter with the attractive boy. But Joey was a cloud that covered everything else in her mind. Winnie wondered who she could call to check up on him. Not her mother. Elaine would only worry, and she couldn’t do anything to help, anyway.

  She took out her phone and dialed.

  Cait could track him down and find out what happened, keep him out of trouble until Winnie could get away from work. It would have to be enough.

  She pushed her cart past the Barber Firm’s double glass doors. She could clean her family problems soon, but the conference room was next in line.

  Chapter 12

  Halfway back to the elevator, Winnie’s phone chirped in her pocket.

  “Winnie, it’s Ca
it. I found Joey. He was in a daze wandering the street near Charmed. We’re lucky he didn’t get picked up by Red Legs. He’s stoned on Sable casting and looks beat to hell.”

  “Crap. Thanks for finding him. Is he with you now?”

  “Yeah, I used my key and brought him inside the shop. Hope you don’t mind. I didn’t know what else to do. He’s pretty messed up and I didn’t have a car.”

  “Can you sit with him until I can finish work? I’ll come over, soon as I’m done.”

  “Yeah, it’s not like I have a job.”

  “You’re lucky. I’m ready to pop my boss over the head. If you were here, he’d be dead.”

  “Maybe.” Cait laughed. “Finish what you’re doing. Joey doesn’t look like he’ll be awake anytime soon.” She sighed. “I thought he was clean.”

  “Me too. We’ll figure this out. I should be there in a few hours. Sit tight and stay in the back. Keep the lights off.”

  “Already ahead of you. I took him down in the basement and settled him on some old blankets. He’ll be fine until you get here.”

  “You’re a God-send. I owe you.”

  Winnie ended the call and waited for the elevator, wondering what she should do.

  Joey’s mom had died from a casting overdose. She’d exhausted her magical energy completely, drained every ounce of her life force reaching for that final high. Winnie remembered her mom telling her between sobs that she must never cross that line herself.

  Joey was headed down the same path. Mom would die if she found out. The stress would flare her arthritis, and she could only take so much. Winnie had to keep that from happening, which meant keeping Joey’s condition under wraps until she could figure out a way to get him clean.

  The elevator dinged and Winnie stepped out onto the next floor. She checked her watch, figuring she had at least another hour before she could check on Joey and Cait.

  Winnie focused on finishing her job. She hated it and her boss, but she needed the money. Joey was family, but he wasn’t her mother. Elaine’s needs would always come first.

  Three hours later, Winnie finished. It was nearly four in the morning when she got to Charmed, fumbling with her keys to get inside.

  She yelped at a voice from the shadows.

  “I suppose you’re here to check on your cousin, Ms. Durham.”

  Winnie ignored the voice, then unlocked and opened the door. Something blocked it from outside.

  A tall, thin man with a jagged scar across his ruined nose held his foot against the door. “No need to be rude, now. I am only here to deliver a message. This time.”

  “What do you want? I’ll call the police.”

  “I’m here to deliver a message, Ms. Durham. We followed Joey here, but were reluctant to approach your friend. She didn’t seem especially friendly, and unnecessary squabbles are bad for business. But you are more reasonable, yes?”

  “Give me your message and I’ll be sure Joey gets it.”

  “The message isn’t for Joey. It’s for you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Your cousin has managed to get himself into some trouble with a few of my associates. We agreed to help him satisfy his needs, and he promised a favor in return. He failed to deliver and we must collect the debt. Your friend interrupted us and brought him here. We know that you and Mr. Merrilyn have an arrangement and we do not wish to interfere by entering the premises without permission.”

  “Artos Merrilyn and I have no such arrangement. I am not involved in that sort of business, with him or you.”

  “We all owe something to Mr. Merrilyn. I pay him off just like you do. I’m only asking for what I’m owed, same as Mr. Merrilyn. If your cousin can’t pay it off, maybe you can help him out.”

  “How much does he owe?”

  “Ten grand. That’s the street value of his boxes used.”

  “Where am I going to get ten thousand dollars?”

  “Word has it you’re a helluva caster. Girl like you won’t never go hungry. Of course, I could ask your mother. She’s always paid his debts before, just like she did for his mother.”

  “You leave my mom out of this.” It was just like Elaine to enable Joey’s addiction by clearing his debts. “We can work something out. But I can’t do anything now, and I need to talk with Joey.”

  “Two days. Then my payments are due to Mr. Merrilyn. Here’s my card. Call me. I need the money or new boxes. You decide. And take your time, as long as it’s two days.”

  The thin man spread his lips in a cruel smile, then removed his foot from the doorway and walked down the street until he disappeared around the corner.

  Winnie slipped inside, closed the door, and locked it.

  She looked at the card: Zachary Corfield, Fixer.

  She shook her head, muttering to herself. She had Mom’s medicine, Joey’s debt, and whatever Merrilyn expected to collect hanging over her head. She could pay the fixer. They had that much in savings, but it would mean she couldn’t buy medicine, or make rent, for either the apartment or the shop. Ten grand would clean them out.

  Winnie made sure the deadbolt was latched and turned toward the basement. She had to rouse Joey from his stupor. He damned sure was going to pay for his mess.

  Cait appeared from the shadows. “I thought I heard voices out here. Who were you talking to?”

  “The person Joey owes ten thousand dollars to.”

  “Ten thousand?”

  “Yep. And he said if I don’t pay him, he’ll ask my mom for the money.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m exhausted, and can’t think about this clearly. I need to talk to Joey and then I need some sleep. Maybe an answer won’t feel impossible by the time I wake up.”

  “He’s awake. I just left him. He keeps telling me how sorry he is. Over and over.”

  “He’s dragged me and my mom into his mess. Joey’s going to have a new definition of sorry.”

  Winnie pushed past Cait and headed for the back stairs, down to the basement. The dirt floor was cluttered with debris, lit by a bare bulb suspended from the ceiling. Joey was in the corner, sitting up on a pile of blankets, knees pulled to his chest, rocking back and forth, rubbing his hands together as if washing them under invisible water.

  He looked as she descended the steps. “Winnie! Cait told me she sent you to find me.”

  “Shut up, Joey.” Winnie was bubbling lava. She took a breath and continued. “I just spoke to a man named Zachary Corfield. Know him?”

  Joey nodded, his body shaking.

  “He says you owe him ten thousand dollars. Because we’re family, your debt’s now mine.”

  Joey flinched and looked away.

  “You’d better be embarrassed. How many times has Mom paid off your debts?”

  “A few … maybe three times.”

  “Three times. Three times you dragged my mom into your crap!”

  “I’m sorry, Winnie. I can’t help my — ”

  “I don’t want your excuses, Joey. It’s too late. My shop, my mom, my friends, and my whole entire life are all wrapped up in your mess. Mr. Corfield isn’t the type of man who takes no for an answer. I have two days, then he goes to Mom. Do you want her to know about this?”

  “What do you want me to do? I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “I want you to tell me everything you know about this Zachary Corfield and how he’s tied to Artos Merrilyn. Then we’ll get him to back off while we clear the debt. Until then, you’re staying here, out of sight, until I can figure this out.”

  Chapter 13

  Constable Victor Holmes checked his uniform tunic again, waiting in the antechamber outside the Director’s suite in the Department of Magical Containment building. His buttons were still polished, reflecting dim light from the electric wall sconces lining the chamber. The plain wooden bench was like sitting on a rock. He shifted a bit to take some pressure off his tail bone. He was always nervous and self-conscious in this building, wher
e he considered himself in competition with his Red Leg colleagues. This visit had raised the bar on that anxiety. Director Kane had summoned him personally.

  He’d received the summons while finishing his day. Victor’s team had shut down several small-time charm runner operations. The items confiscated for cataloging and destruction were considered harmless by most, if you could call anything that damned a man’s soul “harmless.” The call had come over the direct line from headquarters. Victor had picked it up himself, being the last one in the office.

  Now he sat, waiting in what he hoped appeared to be a patient manner. He couldn’t be in trouble. He would hold his district’s numbers against anyone in the force. Victor had always strived to be the best of the best, and swiftly earn an inspector’s shield. Inspectors led Sable trade investigations for the force, dealt with the biggest players in the illegal magical trade. He longed to be included.

  A door opened at the chamber’s far end. A woman stepped out in a tight-fitting black blazer and skirt, and walked toward him.

  “Constable Holmes?”

  Victor stood, clicked his heels together and nodded acknowledgement. “That’s me.”

  “Come with me. The Director will see you now.”

  Victor followed the woman, glancing down again to make sure he had no lint to mar the front of his dark navy blue uniform. Now wasn’t the time to be sloppy, although no one who knew of Victor’s fastidious nature would ever call him anything but precise, in both his dress and everyday attention to detail.

  The woman led him through several doors that finally led to a palatial office. The floors were made of carefully-laid black and white marble tiles, walls lined with dark-stained wood paneling. It was the single biggest room that Victor had ever seen, and seemed even larger due to its lack of furnishings or decoration. A large wooden desk sat at the far end of the room with a single leather padded chair behind it. That tall-backed chair was turned towards the window. Victor wondered if it was occupied.