Within These Wicked Walls(5)

“Jember and I traveled to many different villages to see clients. You may not be familiar with the ones who live further away.”

He looked a bit embarrassed. “Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to imply anything.” He took a folder from his briefcase and laid it in front of me, removing a few pages and placing them on top. “This is your contract. Take your time reading before you sign, of course. Most of it is standard—free room and board, meals, amenities. I know your line of work is normally paid by the hour, but I believe I’ve settled on a flat weekly rate that’ll better serve the both of us. And—not so standard—there’s a list of rules that you’ll be required to abide by.”

He centered a numbered list in front of me, gesturing to the first line. “The first two rules are the most relevant to you: Don’t leave your room after ten o’clock at night, and social time after dinner is mandatory. The rest are a bit trivial, but Magnus gets very bent out of shape if they aren’t followed to the letter.”

Peggy had warned me about the curfew, but mandatory socials? “Who is this Magnus?”

“Magnus Rochester, the owner of Thorne Manor.”

“I’m sorry, sir. You’re not…?” I cleared my throat. “I thought you were the owner of this castle.”

“Oh.” He laughed lightly. “No. I’m sorry, I could’ve sworn I’d introduced myself. Call me Esjay. I’m the Rochester family’s attorney.”

“Then where is Mr. Rochester?”

“I’m sure he’ll be down soon. However, he prefers ‘Magnus.’ No sirs or ma’ams necessary, as stated in rule twenty-three of your contract.”

A bang like a slamming door echoed down the stairs, and I heard distant shouting.

Esjay folded his hands politely, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose, and then smiled at me. “It doesn’t look like Magnus will be joining us tonight after all. But I’ll gladly talk through the contract with you and answer any questions you—” Another bang, this one more like a gunshot. Esjay stood up quickly, his chair screeching against the hardwood. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” He rushed out of the room.

I listened to his dress shoes pound up the stairs, licked my fingers clean, then went after him.

The shouting made me pause at the top of the stairs to listen. Peggy and Esjay stood a little way down the hall, talking through a half-opened door while someone yelled at them from the other side. The argument ended with the door slamming, echoing in their faces.

Esjay patted Peggy’s shoulder, then turned in my direction. He seemed almost startled to see me standing there, then smiled and made his way over. “I’m afraid this isn’t a good night to talk business. Why don’t you read over the contract tonight, and I’ll be over tomorrow so we can discuss it?”

“Is he always this unreasonable?” I asked.

“He’s…” Esjay’s smile faded. “He’s not doing well tonight. Normally he’s in better spirits, but sometimes the curse, the evil in the house…”

“It takes a toll,” I finished. That was true of every household I’d cleansed—the host always felt it the worst.

He nodded, then cleared his throat. “Tomorrow will be better. It always is.”

“Esjay?” I said. He’d been heading down the stairs, but he turned slightly at my voice. “The gunshot?”

His features curved down, and he examined the rail of the stairs, as if to hide it. “No one was hurt.”

“And believe you me, child,” Peggy said, shoving by me—despite the hall being wide enough that she shouldn’t have had to. “Guns aren’t what you should be worried about around here.”

“Peggy,” Esjay said quietly, like a plea, and then looked at me. “With a résumé like yours, I doubt you’ll have any issues. I’ll be back tomorrow evening, before dinner.”

“Don’t bother Mr. Rochester this evening,” Peggy snapped as she began to descend the stairs. I squeezed my fists against her biting tone. I’d been in this castle for less than two hours and already I hated the woman.

I waited until they had both disappeared around the corner before approaching the door and knocking.

I heard a sound of frustration, heavy footsteps accompanied by some sort of soft jangling, and then the door cracked open with a creak. I winced against the chill that came from inside, and my amulet pulsed heavily against my chest. “I told you I’m not hungry, Peggy,” a voice growled from behind the door. Mr. Rochester was clearly hiding, because all I could see was a sliver of the dim wall of his room.

“Peggy went downstairs,” I said. “I’m Andromeda.”

“Who?”

I hesitated. “You hired me. To exorcise your house of the Evil Eye.”

“The what?”

Did he not know what was in his own house? “The spiritual activity in your house.”

“Wait, who are you?”

“Andromeda. The debtera you hired. Sir, I wanted to talk to you about curfew—”

“Lock your door by ten if you don’t want to be eaten alive. Now get the hell away from my door.” He slammed it shut, and then I heard his footfalls recede.

I took a steadying breath.