Page 34 of The Most Wanted Witch

“I heard about the immigration trials. Why don’t you tell me about those in your own words? Or what it was like when you first got to Xest? Your childhood in Salem. I want to hear everything.”

We stood in front of the broker office several hours later, and I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed. A marathon would’ve been easier than the mental chess I’d played, trying to dodge any answers or details that might come back to bite me. Not exactly a piece of cake, since I had no clue what to avoid. The questions had been nonstop until I’d begged exhaustion from the time difference. That hadn’t been a lie.

“It was a lovely evening. I will see you very soon,” Xazier said as we stood outside, looking into the darkness of the office.

I didn’t completely relax until he disappeared.

I walked in, let the door shut, and then leaned against it, a long, slow sigh flowing out, carrying all the tension of the evening with it. The first meeting was over. In retrospect, it hadn’t been that bad. It had gone more along the lines of a blind date than a meeting with a demon. It had been manageable, if a bit unpleasant.

I pushed off the door, making my way across the office. A shadowy figure sat at my desk. I would’ve been more surprised if Hawk hadn’t been waiting.

“How did it go?” he asked, standing up and walking in my direction, his gaze taking in my bare legs. The only piece of clothing Xazier had returned to me was my jacket.

“Not horrible. Lots of useless questions about my childhood, but nothing meaningful.”

His gaze continued running the length of me until it settled on my lips.

He didn’t stop until he was a few inches from me.

“No information you give him is useless. Remember that. He’ll store it all away for a purpose.” His stare deepened. “I can smell him on you. Did he touch you?”

“He helped me with my jacket.”

He nodded.

The office was dark, shadowing his expression, but I didn’t need to see his face to feel the weight of his unhappiness.

“You’re going to meet him again if he calls.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway.

He turned to walk past me and then paused, his shoulder nearly brushing mine. He looked at me one last time before walking away.

15

I was on my third cocoa of the day, all from the Sweet Shop. I’d rather go down the street and pretend to check in than into the back room, where Gillian had set up a court on the couch. If you walked back there, you better be ready to pay homage. I’d seen Zab, Musso, Oscar, and Bibbi already make that mistake. Bertha had walked out mumbling curses minutes ago before she went upstairs, slamming the door behind her.

“I told her it wasn’t a good idea to stay back there today, but she kept insisting,” Musso said, shrugging his massive shoulders and raising puffy brows.

Bibbi looked over at me, shaking her head slowly, as if this matter needed to be handled. From the looks she gave, she thought I should be the one handling it. If someone didn’t do something, Gilli might end up poisoned soon.

Hawk walked in, breaking Bibbi’s gaze of death.

Instead of ignoring me, the way we’d silently decided to do most days since the latest fight, he walked over to me with a piece of yellow parchment in his hands.

“This was nailed to the door. We have a meeting at dusk.” He dropped the parchment on the desk in front of me, the paper and form all too familiar. Immigration.

I skimmed the notice, which was short and to the point. I had a meeting. Not him.

As soon as Hawk walked out of the room, Bibbi and Zab both walked over, scanning the parchment together.

Bibbi sat on the corner of my desk. “Why do you want to meet immigration again? They don’t like you much. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

I tapped a finger on the parchment, remembering exactly how much they did hate me. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to have Hawk along. It wasn’t like the meeting with Xazier, which had an altogether different vibe. With immigration, all the hate, distrust, and revulsion was out on the table.

“They might know something about my origins, and my origins might have something to do with Dread.”

“That makes sense.” Bibbi nodded, staring at my cocoa with a strange intensity while she drank her tea.

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