Page 121 of Beyond the Cottage

“A good maiming, then?”

“Not quite.”

His brow arched. “Don’t tell me you let the police handle it?”

“Nope. I brought him home with me.”

Nat creaked as he leaned forward. “Why thehellwould you do that?”

For a moment, she considered telling him the full truth. He knew the basics of her history with Ansel and what had happened in the cottage. But Nat had lost the right to access her personal life. Besides, after what went down in the swamp, he wouldn’t care about Ansel and Gretta’s complicated friendship.

“I realized we need him,” she said. “He’s a brilliant scientist who developed anti-spell technology. Specifically, spell repellent.”

Nat scoffed. His face became its usual stoic mask. “Impossible. Only silver prevents spells.”

“It works, Nat. I used it. All he needs is an investor.”

“An investor, indeed. I’m afraid you’ve been had.”

“Look,” she said. “I don’t know enough about the science to explain it, but let him give you a demonstration. I guarantee it will convince you.”

“Again, I’m confused. Why are you helping the man who kidnapped you?”

“I’m trying to help our movement,” she hedged. “This will be a potent weapon for fighting witchcraft. Do you even care about that anymore?”

“What precisely does that mean?”

Gretta swept her hand around the office.

Nat frowned, eyes narrowing. He slapped the file closed and set it aside. “Fine. I’ll indulge you in this if you’ll indulge me in return.”

“How?”

“When I’ve found a new position for you, I want a fair hearing with an open mind. In the meantime, you’ll remain on my payroll.”

“And if I choose not to waste my time?”

Nat lifted his arms in something like a shrug. “Then your scientist is free to seek another investor.”

High-handed jackass.She ought to call him on it by helping Ansel do just that.

She sighed. While throwing Nat’s ultimatum in his face would be satisfying, he was her richest connection and Ansel’s best option. Hearing him out didn’t mean she had to take the job. And maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if she practiced curbing her knee-jerk reactions?

“Alright,” she said. “Fair hearing. Open mind.”

Nat tucked the file in a drawer. “Have Henry put a meeting on tomorrow’s schedule.”

She stood and gave Nat a tight nod.

Chapter 42

Ansel jerked awake. His mind warmed up slowly, absorbing his surroundings.

A dim room lit by a wrought iron lamp. Tidy but scarred furniture he vaguely recognized. All at once, he remembered where he was: on Gretta’s couch in her ludicrously clean apartment. His shirt was still gone, and a patchwork quilt covered him from the waist down.

She walked in carrying a paper shopping sack. “Sorry, the door got away from me. How does your arm feel?”

He flexed it. “Still tender. Better, though.”

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