Chapter Eleven
“The Enforcer? Is that what you’re known by in the world of bad magic?” Shannon picked at the edge of the paper placemat.
“Yes.”
“Why would Lola give information that had to do with you, and not me?”
Merck tented his hands on the table and gazed at them.
The voodoo ritual with the blood, the stench, and the dark energy had scared her until Merck threatened Lola with death. She didn’t doubt he’d have killed Lola, if she crossed the line. Her heart shuddered all over again at the magnificence of protective Merck. Yet, something ate at this man. If she knew, maybe she could help. Whatever bothered him was a big enough issue for a spirit to comment on it rather than her being framed for stealing something from a god.
Merck glanced toward the kitchen. “Wonder where the food is.”
She put her hand over his. “What’s going on? Can I help you?”
He continued to watch the kitchen door as if he prayed for a food reprieve, but he didn’t remove his hand from hers. “We never agreed to discuss me as a part of helping you.”
“You’re right. We didn’t, but I’m worried about you.”
His ended his vigil on the kitchen door. A myriad of emotions passed through his eyes.
“If you’re not ready to talk about it, then that’s okay. You’re complicated. I get that.” She squeezed his hand and let go.
“I have to walk my path alone. That’s the way it is.”
“You’re not alone, at least not right now.” She cracked a small smile.
Merck cleared his throat. He scratched his forehead and rubbed a thumb across one eyebrow. “You’ve been under a death sentence for what? A few weeks? My pink slip on life was handed to me eight years ago. The end for me is coming up real soon.”
“What?” Merck was going to die? “No. No, no, no. You can’t die.” The permanent knot that had taken up residence in her gut the moment she learned of her own death date, tightened. To have known for years that life was limited must’ve devastated him.
His face softened. “I get what you’re going through more than you can imagine. I lived through the fear, the anger, and the denial. I still have all three, but we can’t outrun the gods’ plans.”
“Good Lord, you’ve known this for years?”
He looked haunted.
She hopped up, scooted around the table, and hugged him tight. His arms loosely looped her body, probably a reflex to the unsolicited hug.
“I’m so sorry. What I’ve been going through is awful, but for you... God, Jason...I mean Merck, I’m...” Stop babbling. She resumed her seat. A glance around showed she’d attracted more attention than intended, even though they were in a far corner.
They stared at each other in a silence filled with kindred understanding of the peculiar territory they tread, facing their own deaths.
He said, “You’re handling it a lot better than me. I went a little crazy with drugs, drinking, and women for a long time thinking I’d enjoy life. I planned to go out on a high note or some such bullshit.” He took a long sip of tea. “I didn’t enjoy any of it, either during or after. So, if you decide your quest to find the Trident is futile and want to enjoy your last bit of time, then think hard on what’s important.”
“What’d you decide is important to you?”
“I want to leave the world a safer place because there won’t be anyone left to do what I do when I’m gone, at least not until the next schmuck who gets this soul stuck into him. Might be fifteen or sixteen years before the next guy can handle all this. That’s a hell of a lot of time without anyone to police the magical community of those who threaten people.”
Oh, my. That broke her heart. All he had to live for was his job. No family. No love. She wanted to hug him all over again.
He ran a hand over his eyes. “Stop looking at me like I’m some sort of hero. I’m not. Never have been. Never will be. I do what I vowed I’d do. It’s not fun, but it’s my job.” He threw a few bills on the table. “Let’s get out of here. Neither of us is hungry.”
She nodded and followed him outside. The ride back to her house was quiet. He parked and walked around to open her door.
An audience of six druids sat on the porch.
“Do you have anything else you could suggest I try to get information?” She fingered the wilted camellias, planning to get them in some water.
“I’ve got someone in Savannah I planned to chat with today about it. I can’t take you with me this time, though.” He reached around her to the glove box, opened it, and pulled out a business card. “If something else comes for you, call me. This has my cell phone number. In the meantime, stay with your protection.”