Curse It (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 1), page 16
I shrugged. "She needed extra help and asked the T.A."
"But Violet never needed help. She was smart. Before she was ousted from the group, she’d help all of the sorority girls with their homework."
"A lot of people have subjects that are harder for them than everything else. I was fine at algebra, but my mother hired a tutor for geometry."
"But biology wasn't that subject for Violet. She loved it, and my friend saw her walking to the parking lot with the T.A. one night, way after office hours."
"How late?"
"About ten. She thought it was weird."
"Why would she remember this five years later?"
"Because the next week, the T.A. stopped showing up."
"As in quit?"
"No, as in, he didn't lecture anymore. He’d still grade things, but he never showed for class."
I bit my lip. "That's odd, but hardly a case of a missing teacher. Someone, his faculty member, would’ve reported him missing. Maybe he turned out to be agoraphobic?"
"No, I'm telling you there was something not right about it. I wasn't even a science major, and I knew who this guy was. He was good looking, came from money, and way too narcissistic to stop showing off his knowledge to all of the adoring coeds."
"Why didn't you mention this when we talked before?"
"I didn't know it before. I knew of him, but I wasn't a biology major. I didn’t think anything about it."
Now that the fear my teeth would start chattering diminished, I walked back to the couch and sat down. "Okay, do you have a name for this guy?"
"Yep, Grant Vonn. He’s actually a professor now, but he teaches online. Most teachers do recordings where the students can see them, but his lectures are always Power Points with his voice recorded."
"If he really is the narcissist you think he is, that’s out of character."
"My thoughts exactly."
"How did you find this out? You've been out of school a while now."
"I'm a bartender. I know plenty of people. I called around, but one of my regular's little sister is getting a biology degree and took a class from him last semester. If this guy is unwilling to show his face, I can't help but wonder if she did to him what she did to me. Maybe in a much more visible area."
"I take it back, Ronnie. You've definitely earned that cream."
His tense body went boneless, and he leaned back into the cushions of my couch.
"Anything else?"
"Shit, woman, I only had twelve hours."
My hands went up. "You're right; you're right. Thanks, Ronnie, if you could keep your ear to the ground and let me know about anything else you hear, I'd owe you one."
He smiled and sat forward grabbing his cream, finally clear to take his bounty.
Another vehicle pulled up to my house, and when I looked out the window, my eye began to twitch. There was only one person who could afford to drive a car like that, and the trunk space left a lot to be desired for someone who was supposed to be hauling off a large object.
I stood up, and Ronnie hastily followed suit. "Uh, I guess I better get going then."
"Hmm?" I turned to him, suddenly remembering my manners and pasted on a smile that felt brittle.
He winced. "I don't know what he did, but that is definitely my cue to exit."
"Smart man," I muttered.
"You're not a good bartender if you can't tell when the shit’s about to hit the fan." With that astute observation, he hastily made his way to my front door, clutching his bounty. I trailed behind ready to greet my next visitor. Ronnie opened the door. Deval’s hand was raised to knock. Ronnie gave Deval a brisk nod and squeezed past him to safety.
Deval watched him go before turning back to me. "The look he gave me was meant for a man being carted to the gallows."
"Hmmph," I uttered, crossing my arms.
"Ah, I've managed to anger you yet again. Let me in, you can tell me all about it."
"You've had no trouble bypassing my wards before. What's different now?"
"Let me in, and I might tell you."
It was a tempting offer, though I wasn't sure if he actually needed to be let in, or if he was faking it. I reached out with my magic and sure enough, the wards were holding against him. Huh, now my curiosity was piqued. That and one of my nosier neighbors was on the sidewalk going for her morning constitutional.
Waving my hand, I opened the wards. He knew exactly when they released and walked into my house with an authority he shouldn't feel though his shudder as the wards passed over him was satisfying. We stood in the entry, and I looked over at his vehicle. "Why are you driving that midlife-crisis-on-wheels and not something that would accommodate a magical goblin safe, or as I like to think of it, a maniacal death freezer?"
"I have decided to gift it to you."
My jaw dropped before I had the sense to close it. He looked at me with expectation.
It took a moment for me to realize he expected gratitude. "Oh, hell no. That thing tried to kill me."
"No, it simply wanted to meet you."
"Now you're saying it's sentient? That’s just great. That information would’ve been important before it tried to kill me!" My voice got progressively louder the longer I spoke.
Since I was standing in my entryway with an open door, my neighbor heard my shout. She gave me a haughty look. Normally I’d be self-conscious about my neighbors’ negative attention, but I was too pissed to care. So, I gave her the stink eye right back and slammed my front door closed. It said something about the quiet often surrounding my anger that I was able to hear the woman utter a shrill "How rude!" through the closed door.
Undeterred and fuming, I turned back to Deval. "Now my neighbors think I'm insane," I said, my voice as calm and reasonable as I could manage at the moment.
He shrugged, turned back toward my living room, and sat on my sofa.
"Go ahead and make yourself at home," I muttered, hands propped on my hips.
"I did, thank you. The fire adds a nice homey touch. I'm starting to find your home quite charming."
Throwing my hands up in defeat, I went to sit with him on the couch. A few days before he implied my home was a total dump. What was with the personality change? I stared at him waiting for him to speak, before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Fine you win, why are you suddenly willing to part with a magical object you recently told me was worth seven figures?"
His mouth twitched. "What did I win?"
"As if you don't know. Answer my question."
"No, I truly am puzzled. What did I win?"
I rolled my eyes. "The silent game."
"I did not realize silence was a game."
"You know what? I found the game frustrating a moment ago, but I’ve changed my mind, just shut up for a minute." I sat back on the couch, closed my eyes, and rubbed the bridge of my nose. The ebb and flow of chilling waves returned, and my teeth chattered away. With Ronnie, I didn’t want to appear fragile, but with Deval, I didn't care. He knew what was going on better than I did, and I no longer had the energy to pretend to be anything other than tired and cold. A hand gave my knee a squeeze, and I opened my eyes. Deval gave me a look that was either empathetic or pitying. In a rare moment of benevolence, I decided to assume it was empathetic.
"I really do not know this game you speak of, but since you seem a bit out of sorts, I will ask Lola about it later."
I snorted. "Must be tough to be old enough to be everyone's great-grandfather but look like you are still in graduate school."
"Only among the witches and the humans."
"Mmmmhmm. So, your highness, please tell me why you don't plan on taking the safe."
"It's worthless now."
"Excuse me? You said it was worth close to a million dollars. How can it depreciate that much in one week?"
"What I am about to tell you is not something we advertise. You will have to promise not to tell anyone, at least no one who doesn't already know. I will give you permission to gossip with Lola, as she is already privy to our secrets, but no vampires, shifters, fae, or humans. Some may already know, but do not make that assumption, because those who know have been bound by magic and honor to secrecy."
"If you wanted me to join your secret club, why didn't you say so? We can build a club fort in my backyard."
"I don't think you're taking this as seriously as you should be."
I rubbed my temples. "You're right. I'm probably not. What happens if I don't promise? Will you take your safe then?"
"No, you will be helpless to its powers."
"Peachy, fine, I promise, as long as by keeping the secret, no harm will come to me, my family, or my friends." I bargained.
"You can set your terms, but that in no way means you will not have repercussions. Just possibly a little leeway."
"Whatever, Deval, tell me what I need to know."
"What exactly do you understand about goblin magic?"
"It's earth-based, and you have stronger protections, but that's more biological. You guys are built like tanks."
"Yes, evolution was kind enough to allow us to survive in a mine collapse, which I have on a couple of occasions."
"Really? That's pretty awesome." I doubted a witch would be able to.
"I didn't mean to get off topic. Our magic is earth-based, but we are born with different capacities to wield the magic."
"Like every other magical being, duh." I rolled my eyes.
Deval ignored me and continued, "The strong prevail among us. Being born strong does not guarantee that one will remain the strongest."
"Of course, practice and study will give you an edge," I sniped.
"All fine and good, but still the most powerful are the wealthiest."
"Yes, I know. Money equals power."
"Of course, but I'm speaking in a literal sense."
I sat forward intrigued. "What do you mean, literal?"
"Why do you think so many goblins are miners or work with precious metals and stones?"
"A natural proclivity, having evolved underground, your apparent ability to survive mine collapses?" I rattled off.
"Yes, but like you said, we gain our power from the earth. I will always feel the stones around me, but certain mined metals and gems are more powerful than an entire semi of dirt. The more wealth I have, the more power I can call upon. This means even the weakest magic users among us have the potential for great magical strength, especially if they acquire enough gold, silver, copper, diamonds, rubies, et cetera."
"You're saying if I were a goblin, and I owned a ton of gold, even if I only had the capacity to move a grain of sand before, I could potentially create a crater in the earth because of the power I could get from the precious metal?" Mind officially blown.
"Exactly, which is why we gather wealth from a young age. We value wealth because it keeps us in power."
"That explains why you guys are such hard asses about stealing. That and your general reputation for being greedy."
His mouth twitched. I wasn't sure if it was in annoyance or amusement. "Is it greedy to eat a meal that would give you strength? To get a vaccine that would keep you healthy? Those with a low capacity will be frail unless they acquire wealth. My children will never want for gold and gems because that is what they will need to keep them strong."
"No wonder goblins usually have small families. Good lord, and I thought having elementary school kids compete over who wears the best labels was bad."
"Exactly, you will note Lola's family has two sons, but wanted to try again for a girl. They didn't, knowing a third child could not be provided for, without taking away wealth that needed to go to their sons."
My face scrunched. "Boys are more important?"
He laughed. "Don't let my mother hear you say that. No, if they had two daughters and wanted a son, the same would apply. There is still some misogyny among our kind. Being old means adjusting your world views. My uncle, for example, looks to European monarchies of the past and thinks that he, as the younger brother, should have been King instead of my mother, his older sister, even if the goblins’ way was never such. It's funny how individuals will bend their beliefs and heritage to fit their own desires but will never rule."
Isn’t that curious. I didn’t think he would elaborate further, so I changed the subject. "Having Lola suddenly parentless was something of a morbid blessing?"
He nodded.
"Then where does the safe fit into this?"
"I cannot access the power from my wealth if it is sitting in a bank. It is not a safe option to put that much power into a place someone else has access to. No matter the current political climate, there will always be upheavals in governments and wars. I do not trust humans to watch my power, and goblins cannot do it."
"Why can't goblins own banks?"
"They can, and they do, but if another goblin has physical possession to my wealth, then he could steal access to my power. It would be quite foolish to give a goblin my power."
"If you’re not carrying around a backpack of gold bars, how do you access that power?"
"What you have in your cluttered Arizona Room is a safe that leads to a space in the goblin plane. It is sentient and had begun to bond with me. If I had retained possession of it, the bonding would be completed already. As it is, the safe decided to be ornery and chose you to be its mistress, something that should not have been possible."
"Why shouldn't it be possible?"
"Are you aware of any witches that are able to access a goblin plane?"
"I never even knew it existed."
"Exactly, because it should not exist to you. After I found you sleeping in your newly claimed plane, I spoke with my mother. She’s never heard of a witch accessing our territories and claiming a plane. The only explanation is that you have some dormant goblin blood that is coming forward."
"I never claimed anything. Second, I don't have any goblin blood." I was having a bit of an identity crisis
"There is no other explanation. Besides people are never as pure blooded as they want to believe."
"Meaning you might be part witch?" I asked caustically.
"I may be, but it would be in small amounts since I have shown no signs of possessing any witch power."
"Well, it's not like our two groups intermingle that much."
"That is a recent occurrence. When witches still held their long life spans, it was not uncommon to see a witch and goblin couple. It's not as though it is impossible now, just inconvenient."
"Wouldn't want to slum it?"
“Inconvenient was probably the wrong word. I wouldn't want to love someone and have to watch them die."
"Isn't love supposed to be worth the sacrifice?" The whole “inconvenient” thing had really raised my hackles.
"Yes, but I do not know if I am willing to have so little time with someone, or to worry that my children will only get half the lifespan they should have."
"Has that happened?" This was new territory for me.
"Yes, I still hear of goblins with witch spouses. There has not been a discernible pattern for how long the children live. Some live a human life span, others are still living, but no one knows if that will be for five hundred years or a thousand, as should be their birthright."
"I guess that would be hard, not knowing how long to expect to see your children live, but it seems a bit cowardly. A thousand years is promised to no one. Not even you. You just have the possibility."
His posture stiffened at the word cowardly, and he leaned away from me. "I don't expect you to understand. I may not be promised everything I desire, but I can still make choices that will give me the best possibility of the outcome I want.” He changed the subject. “So, you're unaware of any goblins in your family line?"
"I already said that."
"It is curious, that there would be no family rumors. How many direct relatives do you know?"
"Well,” I listed off relatives in my mind. “I knew two great-grandparents on my father’s side before they passed within six months of each other when I was seven. My mom's grandparents were already dead when I was born, but I knew her parents. Three of my grandparents have passed, though I know them all. Only my mom’s mother is still alive. I can ask my family, if you’d like."
"I would. The safe has bonded with you, and you now have your own piece of the goblin plane. You should bond with it regularly, so no one can invade your territory, but it seems bonding with it may hurt you, due to your mortality. If you find out how far back the blood came from, I may be able to assist you."
"How?"
"Just find out, Peg. Surely your family will be able to assist you with that. Also, spend some time with the safe, perhaps it will recognize how fragile you are and not accidentally kill you." He got up quickly and walked to the front door without even saying goodbye.
"Nice to see you, too," I called out, not bothering to get up.
He looked over his shoulder. "Keep me updated. I don't like having to track you down." With that, he turned the corner in my small foyer, and I heard the door open and shut firmly when he left. Well, at least he closed the door.
After Deval left, I walked to the front door and locked it. Safety first, even if the only thing bent on harming me sat in the Arizona room. As long as it kept its siren song to a minimum, I was sure we would get along just fine. Deval told me to spend time with it, as silly as it seemed, so when I decided to cyber stalk Grant Vonn, I took my laptop to the safe. The lid was closed, I hopped up on it and sat cross-legged.
While I searched, I stroked the safe and baby-talked it. "Who's a good safe? Who's the prettiest safe in the world?" When I talked to Cheddar like that, he was way less interested in murdering me in my sleep. Here was hoping the safe would feel the same way. Besides, it really was pretty. If it decided to not try to murder me in my sleep, I knew of a corner in my living room by the fireplace where it would look pretty spectacular.
It was a fairly productive afternoon. I found pictures of Grant, and it was no wonder Violet had become infatuated with him. He was all sandy tussled hair, lean tanned limbs, with khakis and button ups. He reminded me of a young Kennedy. The pictures I found were from around the time Violet had been in school. Nothing later though, which leant weight to the theory of some sort of maiming being a real possibility.
