The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4) by Kate Quinn (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗

I keep thinking about the vampire couple being together for five centuries. My marriage to Jax didn’t even last five years. My dating Liam lasted about five minutes.

“We read about you on Friendbook,” the husband tells me from the doorway. “We appreciate all you’re doing for the supernatural community.”

“I just clean up people’s messes,” I tell him.

“That’s not true. You helped that vampire get away from the mob at the Humans First rally a few months ago. Plus you shut down that awful supe adoption agency that was stealing babies. And Super Au Naturel, what a shithole. We never went there, but you hear things. You got that place busted up.”

I look up at him. “I’m just really good at being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I tell him.

“Well, a lot of supes are talking about you.”

“Greeeeat,” I say. Business has picked up lately and my clients are all exclusively supernatural beings. I really do not feel comfortable being supe famous...especially if some of my old social media posts ever are dug up.

I wasn’t exactly kind about the influx of non-humans when it first began. I’ve changed in a lot of ways, but my Dad and I started this business as a way to help other humans clean up after a supe trashed their house—or their lives. I never meant to become a housekeeper to the paranormals. But I have to admit, most supes are friendlier than the average human. And they pay better, too.

“Can I ask you about being a vampire?” I blurt out. “I know someone who was recently turned…

The man shakes his head. “Oh, that’s tough. Turned vamps have a really tough time. Is he limiting his blood intake?”

I nod. “I think so. He won’t really talk to me.”

“That’s normal. Turned vamps…”—he shudders—“they have it bad. It used to be that the vamp who turned another would be responsible for them. Make sure they didn’t go off the rails and drain an entire medieval city. Since we were all exposed, things have gotten dire. Newly-turned vamps are turning others. It’s terrible.” He sees the look on my face but quickly adds, “There are programs now, though.”

“He’s in a house,” I tell him, my voice grows thick with emotion. The halfway house is the best place for him, but when I picture him there, I know with a certainty, deep in the pit of my stomach, that he hates it. Years ago vamps tortured him and his mother. To be surrounded by them, to be one of them—I cut off the thoughts, knowing I’ll just spiral into a dark place.

Clearing my throat, I add, “It’s for newly-turned vamps.”

“That’s good. They know what they’re doing.” He turns to go back to the nursery but I call out to him.

“What’s it like being with the same person for five hundred years?” I ask.

Eager to answer, he turns back around. “When it’s the right person, it’s fantastic. Honestly, it feels like time has flown by. I look forward to the next five hundred years.”

I smile, though I’m sure it looks strained. “That is...so...great…” I say between clenched teeth.

Fuck vampires and their pure eternal love.

I mop up the blood and try not to think about how nice that actually sounds.

2

After I scrub every little bit of blood from the vampires’ house, I head back to my office.

Well, I say my office, but two months ago a freak hurricane took the roof off the building my office was in. New Jersey didn’t get weather like that when I was a little kid, but ever since the supes and gods came out of hiding, sometimes a hurricane just happens because someone with too much power is having a temper tantrum.

Insurance paid out on my stuff that was destroyed, but didn’t cover a new office space. In an unfortunate bit of timing, I’d just recently drained my rainy-day savings buying my housemate new shoes (long story) and I was even more broke than usual.

In the end, I had no choice but to share. I quickly discovered that a lot of businesses were not interested in going halfsies with me once they realized I specialized in supe clean-ups. I was seriously considering working out of the back of Vanna when a certain werewolf P.I. made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

I stare at the window of our joint office. One side has my logo, the Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Service with the cute maid, modelled on yours truly. The other side has Nico’s logo: Eye Wide Open Investigations, which pretty much looks like the Eye of Sauron, but less vagina-like. I sigh and get out of Vanna, who gives me a conciliatory honk. One day I’ll have enough money to get my own office again.

“But today is not that day,” I whisper to myself as I pull open the door. I let out a sigh of relief, no Nico. I’m not avoiding him, exactly, it just makes life easier when I don’t see him. He’s all animal magnetism and simmering sex…

“Um-hem,” someone clears their throat and I whirl around. A very attractive middle-aged woman sits in the waiting area. She eyes me.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“I’m here to see Nico Tralano,” she informs me.

I sigh. “I don’t know anything about his schedule…”

Her perfect eyebrows form what I’m sure she considers to be an example of mock outrage. I decide not to tell her she just looks constipated. “Isn’t it your job to know these things?”

“Um…no?” I say, honestly confused.

“If you insist on keeping up the sass, I’m going to complain directly to your boss,” she warns me.

“Ohhhh…” I say. “I don’t work for Nico Tralano. I’m not his secretary.”

“Well then who is, and why isn’t she here?” the woman demands.

I sigh. I’ve never been known for my incredible tact and patience, but Nico has done me more than a few favors in the past. The least I can do is not run off his newest client.

“Do you have an appointment?”