28. Owen

Chapter twenty-eight

Owen

L ucious and I had an immediate connection. I mean, he was only a little younger than me when he died, but now, considering he was over a century old, he was significantly older than me and had grown up the second generation of a pioneer family who'd settled in the Midwest, there was still symmetry in the coming out process. I'd grown up in Illinois, and he'd grown up around southern Iowa, but our eras were vastly different.

It was fun to compare notes though. At least now he'd stopped being afraid we were out to get him and his friends.

By the time I helped him get the dishes cleaned up, and he took the rolls away—I assumed to the mysterious others Orville had mentioned or maybe to the basement for the ghosts to enjoy—Damian was back in the attic. I could sense he needed time, so I went to my little bedroom to study and opened my laptop to get a head start on work for next week .

Shadow hadn't contacted me again, which was disappointing. Maybe when Molly came around again, I could ask her for details. I could use a boost with the firm, especially now I understood I was the only one there who wasn't a witch.

I didn't know if being a witch helped with the practice of law, but I had to assume it did. If most of the clients for our firm were magical, I'd need to bring in the nonmagical kind if I wanted to keep working there.

Once I got a lot of the work done that the partners, aka Cary, had given me for the week, I began exploring where to get more clients. Then I got the idea of putting out an ad. I'd speak with Cary about that on Monday. Maybe he could help me fashion it so the partners approved.

If the magical community had more people like me, nonmagical support, or even friends who needed regular law work, maybe that could be my in. I mean, I couldn't do magic, but I could help with contracts. It all hurt my head to think about. What was I doing? I didn't fit into this world or, at least, not well.

I lived here with Damian, a legacy wizard, who owned a house full of ghosts, who were all a bit pissy, and apparently, that was my fault since Damian had invited Cary for me. Then there's the firm I had moved to Seattle to work for, and they were a bunch of witches, meaning I wasn't needed.

God, what a strange mess. I ended up going to my bed and lying down. When I fell asleep, I dreamed of odd shapes flowing around me. It was almost as if they were trying to lure me out of the house and into the street.

I was woken by a sound outside my door. I quickly opened it to see Damian standing in front of me, his face full of concern. "Did they get to you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Get to me? Who?" I asked at once, thinking of the ghosts.

"The dark forces?" I heard Orville say behind him, and Damian began studying me, not answering Orville. He sighed and pulled me into a hug.

"Orville, I just spoke to Elias," he said as he held me. "We need to reinforce the perimeter, but this time with essence. The dark has started their offensive, and," he said, pulling me back and assessing me again, "it appears they've decided to attack me through Owen."