O'Learaigh stood in the middle of the caravan park, bulging arms folded across a chest so well-defined that it would have made Arnie weep.
'Wow. He's a hunk,' gasped Dawn as she coasted our Land Rover to a halt, the sound of crunching gravel finally coming to an end.
'Yeah, he's a looker if you're in to such things. He's also over one hundred and fifty years.'
'Fuck. Off.' I'd hoped that knowing how old he was would have diminished her ardour for him. No luck. I was surprised she wasn't licking her lips. 'Does he always go shirtless?'
'Always. He's a strongman.'
'No shit Sherlock,' laughed Dawn.
'No, as in job title. Bends bars. Lifts huge weights. Fights all-comers in the ring. If they last thirty seconds they get £50.'
'I bet they never last that long, look at those guns!' I looked closer to make sure that she wasn't drooling.
'Girl, get your shit together. He knows what effect he has on people, you do not want to give him an edge. Given an inch and he'll take a mile.'
'God, he can take what he wants, I'd t... ooof!' That last came because of the elbow I'd driven straight into her ribs. Hard. O'Learaigh wasn't someone you fucked about with, and her vapid antics were likely to get us into a whole world of shit.
'Focussed?' I looked across at her as she tried to regain her breath. She nodded, teeth gritted. 'Remember, this is your case. Don't fuck it up.'
I threw my door open and stepped down from the 4x4. O'Learaigh hadn’t moved. He was a man who made Jedi Masters look like impatient school children. There was a zen-like quality about him. His gaze was impenetrable, and it was impossible to tell if he was plotting to kill us, or welcome us. I couldn't see one micro-expression.
'O'Learaigh, thanks for agreeing to see us. This is my apprentice Dawn. She'd like to speak to you about her first Mark.'
That got a reaction. A tilt of the head and a slight narrowing of the eyes as he shifted his focus from me to her.
'Aye, I'd heard dat you'd took arn an apprentice. Fine looking gal ain't she? One o'yours?'
'No, I'm one of yours,' said Dawn, saving me the effort.
Guy's still a prick, I thought as Dawn stepped forward, hand held out.
'Sure, an' that must be grating yeh,' he said, shaking her hand whilst looking at me.
'Fuck's sake man, drop the bullshit accent, it's her you're dealing with. I'm just here to make sure you don't fuck her over,' I snapped. A fleeting grin flashed across his face. 1-0 to the home team.
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'We ..., I need someone with the Sight. The true Sight, no some shyster. I've taken on a Mark which requires it. It probably won't take any time at all. Open and shut. But I can't even start it without a Gifted.'
O'Learaigh nodded, lips pursed. 'How much?' His accent was gone, replaced by a middle England accent. He could have been from any part of the country.
'Well, I've taken this on pro bono,' Dawn said with a smile that looked part hopeful, part sickly.
'How much?' he repeated, looking at me this time.
'Fifty a day, plus one hundred finder's fee.'
'Seventy-five, I get a third, they get the fifty, plus the finder's fee,' he flexed his arms as he spoke. Experience had taught me that was a clear sign he wouldn't be budged.
'Deal!' Dawn thrust her hand out.
'Deal,' O'Learaigh replied, spitting into his hand with gusto and shaking hers vigorously. I looked down at my feet, biting my lip as a look of pure horror flashed across her face. If there was one thing Dawn didn't like, dirty hands was it. Dirty hands with a stranger's spit on them was her idea of hell.
Without a word, O'Learaigh dropped her hand, spun on his heels and started to walk to a modest-looking caravan. I nodded sideways to Dawn, giving her the sign to follow first and, once she had started walking - wiping her palm on her jeans frantically - I followed behind.
Reaching the caravan, O'Learaigh stopped just shy of the steps up, then knocked gently on the door, 'Dave, you decent?
There was a pause, then the door was opened by a young-looking lad, dark-haired, pale, a speckling of freckles and zits, bright-looking eyes, medium build, no more than fifteen, 'Morning boss, just finishing up on the History of the Fae and the Treaties of Emancipation.'
'Good lad, there's some interesting reading there. Anyway, want to make some easy money?'
Dave smiled, it lit up his face, totally transforming him. He was going to be a heartbreaker when he was older, 'Always bossman, always. What you need?'
'This lady,' O'Learaigh thumbed over his shoulder towards Dawn, 'is looking to work with someone who has the Sight. It's fifty a day. Interested?'
'Fuck yeah, 'Dave said, looking over at Dawn and giving her a big thumbs up. 'What's the job?'
Shit, I thought, this is embarrassing.
'Our Mark is someone called Chadrick Shoeshine. He's a friend of our client and he's gone missing, as well as a friend of a friend. We don't have any details on the additional person,' Dawn said, her tone professional and to the point.
'Right. Why you need me though?' asked Dave.
'He's an imaginary friend,' said Dawn.
Laughter exploded from the two men. Full-blown, gut-busting, eye-watering laughter. Dawn and I patiently waited it out.
'You're not fucking serious?' asked O'Learaigh when he was finally able to stand, face red from exertion, tears still streaking down his cheeks.
'The Mark is, yes,' said Dawn. 'Her friend lost hers too. We reckon that that adults don't study this area because once they've grown up they think that the friends they had were imaginary, but everyone knows that nearly every child has a weak form of the Sight from birth. Most lose it quickly. Some, like you Dave, keep it. Not everyone has a friend like our client either, so it's more than possible that there's a whole sub-set of Magick that seems to have been lost or ignored. Or kept quiet.'
There was a moment of silence. O'Learaigh looked back and forth between myself and Dawn, face blank once more.
'Dave? It's you they're paying. You up for it?' said O'Learaigh.
'Umm. Yeah? Sure,' said Dave, most definitely not sounding sure.
'Look, even if this turns out to be a load of rubbish, you'll still be paid,' said Dawn. 'It would just be nice to have a completed Mark under my belt. Even if it's one that will see people taking the piss out of me for the rest of my life.' They shared a grin at that, and I knew immediately that this was a done deal.