Page 12 of Jack of All Trades

“Became? Became what?”

“Why, a hellhound, dear. Without your mate, you’re…well,” she said then patted his hand like he was a child. “Read for yourself. I wouldn’t trust the word of a crazy old librarian over the experts.”

She left him then and the books sat in front of him for a few minutes as he tried to wrap his mind around what he was learning. There was a thread left of pure disbelief. After all, she said it herself, she was a crazy old librarian. For all he knew, she didn’t know more than what she read in the cheap novels she was surrounded by.

That thread was unraveling, though. All of it struck home, and that, along with the dreams he was having…

Not to mention fated mates.

He knew about mates, of course. It was hard not to hear about them growing up in a magical family. Of course, his family had looked down their pointed noses at the thought of it, animals that were expected to wait until their true mates were revealed. Witches chose their own, but their hypocrisy knew no bounds. They only chose other witches to marry, to keep their lineage magically strong.

Fated mates…those were a whole other can of worms. To wait for that one special person, and once you found them, your entire life made sense. It was rumored that was the reason humans believed in soulmates.

Thinking of Maltin Graves as the one being he was meant to be with didn’t sit well with him. Sure, the man was gorgeous, but that was where his interest in him stopped.

He pulled the book with the family names over and started to scan it, looking desperately for the Pengrove name. He passed right over the Ps and didn’t see it, and his heart sank.

He decided to check out the books, his head beginning to ache so badly that the words blurred on the pages. At the front desk, Ms. Tempest sat with a novel open, though she wasn’t reading it. “Checking it out?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Take your time and read up on things. I’ll give you an extended checkout because I believe you’ll need it to take it all in. I’m sorry that I had to be the one to tell you.”

Nodding, Jack wished the same.

Taking the books back to his apartment, he set them on the table by the kitchenette and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Falling back on the couch, his mind suddenly blank for its own benefit, he figured. He had just sipped the cold beer when Garvey came in the door.

“Hey, Jackie boy. How’s it going?”

“It sucks. That’s how. Why are you home? I thought you worked all day.”

“Took the day off to go and register with Colin.”

Jack’s head spun to him as Garvey plopped on the couch on the other end. “Colin? My boss?”

“Yeah. I told ya.”

He had, but Jack hadn’t taken him seriously. “You know…not all the clients are women, and the men you’ll be fucking aren’t good-looking, right?”

“Who cares? I get ugly ass now. At least I’ll get more out of it than the damn crabs.”

Breathing a laugh, he took another sip and said, “Gross.”

“Exactly. He wasn’t gonna give me a shot until he had me take off my shirt. That seemed to do it.”

Garvey wasn’t good-looking per se, but his body was kicking. He inspired Jack to work out harder when they’d first met. “Well, it’s better money than bussing tables, for sure.”

“Exactly. Might as well, you know? Make some good cash.”

He stared at the books and asked Garvey, “What do you know…about fated mates?”

“Fated mates? What everyone knows, I guess. A person you’re meant to be with, breed with, whatever. If I ever find mine, well…I guess I’ll become a dad. Why? You don’t have to worry about that, being a witch.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s just…my client, he…he’s a shifter, and I just wanted to know about them.”

“Oh, right. Well, no worries, if you get down and dirty with him, and he’s not the one, he won’t knock you up. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“If I’m the one that can get knocked up.”

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