Over the next few weeks, I made a lot of surprise inspections on Gabriella’s problem, who went by the name of Big George. I showed up at the house at dinner time and invited myself to stay. George objected the first time. He was still a little scared of me, but his memory of my original attack was apparently partially obscured in the alcohol haze. He’d stormed up and put his hand on my chest as if he’d push me out the door. I did something ugly to his wrist and pulled him outside. I kicked him in the balls and threw him face-first off of the porch. I dragged his sorry ass back inside and parked him at the table. The rest of us had a very enjoyable, very peaceful meal. A few days later, I showed up at Big George’s workplace. It seemed that George detailed cars for a living. He saw me, went white as a sheet, and limped inside to complain to his boss. George’s boss turned out to be a bear of a man, wide across the shoulders and deep in the chest. He walked over and loomed over me.

“George says you been hassling him,” said the bear. “That true?”

I nodded agreeably. “Sure is. He tell you the part about why that’s happening?”

The bear frowned. “No.”

“Let’s say that George doesn’t know how to play nice with others. I’m his personal relations manager.”

“What happens if his personal relations break down?”

“I’ll have to break his contract,” I said.

The bear was shrewd enough to replace the word contract with neck. He shuddered and took a step back. “You got a name?”

“Do you really want to know it?”

To his credit, the guy thought hard about it for a minute. “Yeah, I guess I do. Just so I know who not to annoy down the road.”

“Jericho Lott.”

I saw the flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes. That was a surprise. The car detailing place wasn’t in my normal stomping grounds. George’s boss turned and gave George a hard look. He shook his head.

“You got a reputation, Lott.”

“People talk a lot. I wouldn’t take it too seriously.”

“They say you’re a vrajitor.”

I had to dig deep for that one, having not heard the word in a long time. I laughed a little. “A warlock?”

The bear nodded. He must have had a Romanian immigrant for a grandparent. Gran had made me learn the words for witch, warlock, wizard, and sorcerer in just about every language on earth. I shrugged, which seemed to make the big man even more uncomfortable.

“If it helps, I’m only here to bother him,” I said nodding at George. “I’ve taken a personal interest.”

George’s boss frowned. “They say he’s killed men.”

I perked up at that. If I could dig up a body or two, I could solve Gabriella’s problem for a good long time. “You know who he’s supposed to have killed?”

“No, I’ve just heard the rumors. Probably made-up nonsense. Listen, I’m not looking to make you my problem, but I can’t have you standing around here. You’re making all my boys nervous. They think you’re a cop.”

I laughed out loud at that. “Do I look like a cop?”

“Doesn’t matter. They think it, so they aren’t getting their work done.”

I nodded. The guy had a point. I wasn’t looking to cost him business. I gave him a considering look. “You sell detailing in advance?”

We struck a deal. I bought a package that entitled me to get my car detailed a dozen times. For every hour I stood around looking menacing, he knocked one off the top. I hadn’t planned on showing up at George’s job that often, so I figured that many would keep me going for a few months. I made sure to take George’s boss back outside and shake his hand in plain view of a terrified George. I gave George a little salute before I headed back to the diner. I came through the door and stopped short. Gabriella was behind the counter in what looked like a uniform. I looked around to make sure I was in the right diner. Everything was in place. Gabriella looked up when the bell rang and gave me a big smile.

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“Hi, Jericho,” she said. “Coffee?”

“Um,” I said, shuffling uncertainly toward the counter. “Sure. Coffee would be good.”

Gran had never, to my living memory, employed a waitress. I peered through the window back into the kitchen and stared at Larry. He looked up and offered a noncommittal shrug. I glanced around and saw Gran talking with an older guy in a suit. He looked vaguely familiar. He was probably a previous customer of Gran’s non-culinary services. She had a few repeat customers. Most of them were people involved in the magical world to one degree or another. Gabriella put the coffee in front of me and watched nervously while I stirred in a little sugar and creamer. I sipped at it. Yep, it tasted like coffee. She relaxed when I gave her a nod.

“It’s my first day,” she admitted.

“Gran didn’t say anything about it,” I confessed.

“I couldn’t believe it. She just looked at me a few days ago and asked if I wanted a job. My mom came down to talk with Gran about it,” said Gabriella, before she got a look on her face. “Mom’s been different the last few days. I wonder what they talked about?”

I buried my face in my coffee. Whatever they talked about, even money said it wasn’t just about Gabriella. Still, it wasn’t my place to say anything. If Gran or the girl’s mother wanted her to know the details, they’d tell Gabriella themselves. I just shook my head.

“Probably making sure the job won’t interfere with you getting your homework done. Gran’s big on school. I mean, she’s really big on school. For God’s sake, don’t let your grades slip. You do not want a Gran lecture on that subject.”

Gabriella looked pensive. “I’m not good at math.”

“Talk to Larry, if you need math help.”

She blinked at me. “Larry? The cook?”

“I know, you wouldn’t think it, but he got me through a couple of college math courses. I expect he can help you through algebra or trigonometry.”

She peered through the window at Larry for long enough that he looked up and gave her an exasperated sigh.

“What?” He demanded.

Gabriella threw out a question. “How do you find the tangent of an angle?”

“Sine over cosine. Come on, at least make it a challenge,” complained Larry.

She looked back at me in surprise.

“I told you,” I said.

I caught movement in the corner of my eye and looked over. The man in the suit had stood up. The more I looked at him, the more certain I became that I’d at least seen him somewhere before. He was nodding as Gran told him something. Where did I know that guy from? Gran stood as well and patted him on the arm. He smiled, but it was a forced thing. It seemed like he was pushing it through a haze of immense pain. He turned and walked toward the door. I stood as he approached. He looked at me and nodded, the recognition clear on his face.

“Jericho,” he said.

I nodded back, unsure what else to do, and he vanished out the door. Something about the guy gave me the chills. Not so much that he was dangerous, but that he’d been there and lived to tell the tale. I picked up my coffee and went over to stand by Gran. She was watching the man through the window, her eyes a little sad. She stood there for several minutes after he had pulled out of the lot on his way to somewhere else. I stood next to her and waited. If I needed to know something about the man, she’d tell me. She glanced over at me and seemed to weigh something in her mind. I saw the decision cross her face. She sat down in one of the booths and gestured for me to sit as well.

“Did you recognize him?” She asked.

“He was familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to the face.”

Gran nodded. “I don’t think you ever knew it. Be cautious of that man, Lad, especially if you encounter him while you’re working away from here. He’s dangerous. He may even be as dangerous as you, in his own way. He works for the Gray Traders, sometimes.”

I raised an eyebrow. Gran had dealt with the Gray Traders, as she called them, on a handful of occasions. She seemed to have mixed feelings about them, which was distressing all by itself. Gran was many things but never indecisive. It seemed her indecision about the Gray Traders, a pair of Russian twins who dealt in all manner of arcane objects and information, extended to the man in the suit.

“Is he a problem I need to take care of?”

“No,” Gran said quickly. “He’s not evil. He’s not precisely good, though. He suffered an awful loss, and it marked him, forever. He has allies. Greater and more terrible allies than he knows.”

“Who is he?”

“He calls himself Adrian Hartworth.”

I frowned, “Calls himself?”

“He has other names, but men like him always do. It’s best to let him go his own way, if possible. He has things to do, God help him.”

I was shocked. I’d never heard Gran talk that way about anyone. “Gran?”

“He has a doom, even if no one knows it yet.”

“He’s doomed?” I blurted out, a little too loudly. I lowered my voice. “He’s going to die?”

“Everyone dies eventually. No, lad, he has a doom, a destiny. Fate is the harshest taskmaster of all. Be glad she overlooked you.”

With those cheerless words, Gran got up and made her way to the kitchen. I picked up my coffee and went back over to the counter. Gabriella refilled the mug. She looked at me, the curiosity evident on her face, but she didn’t ask. I was glad because I had no idea what I would have told her.