Monster Mansion 2 by Dante King (most interesting books to read TXT) 📕

Phil’s dry chuckle crackled down the line. “I can give you his number, but if you’re looking for your old job back, I think you’ll be in for a disappointment. He’s still pissed at you for walking out on him.”

It was true. The night Astrid and Belinda had brought me to the mansion had been my last night at the enchantment shop. The next day, I hadn’t shown up for work. It didn’t seem that important, but I figured old Trevor would be pretty angry.

I laughed. “I’m not asking for my old job back. I guess I’ll get a bit of an earful from Trevor when I talk to him, but I’ve got a business opportunity for him. Once he hears about what I’ve got to offer him, I guess he’ll sweeten up pretty quick.”

“All right, it’s your funeral,” said Phil. He read out the number, and I scrawled it down.

“Thanks, Phil, give my love to Aunt Betty.”

“Will do, kid,” said Phil. “If you ever get a day off from your job, come see us upstate. Bring that new girlfriend of yours, we’ll have dinner!”

Which one? I thought, remembering the moment Astrid and Kyrine had reached their climax together. “Thanks, Uncle Phil,” I said. “I’ll do that.”

Phil gave me the number for Trevor and then rang off. I punched it into the phone, saved it, then took a deep breath, bracing myself for the encounter. Trev had always had a talent for dishing out an earful when he was pissed off. Despite my new status as Kyrine’s mate, and the Keeper of a legendary dungeon, I was still reluctant to take on Trevor’s anger.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Once he got it out of his system and heard what I had to offer, he would likely sweeten right up.

It was not just potions. In the workroom upstairs I’d examined some enchanting supplies—thin sheets of beaten metal that could be engraved and colored with arcane inks to create spells. These scrolls could then be applied to devices, gadgets, or machinery to create enchanted versions.

When I had worked in the enchantment shop, Trevor had been the main man when it came to making the enchantments—I hardly got a look at them. At home, however, I’d gotten pretty good at it, even designing a couple of enchantments myself and applying them to my car, my stereo, and my tv at home.

One of the core elements for making good enchantments was having good ink and good metal sheets to work with. As with any fine art, the materials you use make a big difference to the overall final quality of the piece.

Standard engraving sheets and arcane inks were fine, but they were nothing to write home about. The more expensive types were well out of the reach of people like me, and even Trevor tended to buy the lower-end stuff for the enchantments he made to sell.

In the drawer of my desk, however, Kyrine had created a block of enchanting sheets and a couple of bottles of red arcane ink that were very good quality. In fact, they were such good quality that I’d never seen anything like them in my life before. As I sat with the phone in my hand, I pulled the drawer out and ran a finger over the surface of the enchantment sheets.

I’d never seen anything like them in my life before.

Yeah, Trevor would be crazy about that level of quality sheets and inks. In fact, the main risk was that he might drop dead with shock when he first got his hands on them. Yes, there was more than potions to sell.

The sun came out from behind a cloud, and I smiled, thinking of the grumpy old enchanter. He’d been good to me, and the truth was I felt bad for leaving work that day and not letting him know I wouldn’t be back.

Now, I would have the chance to make it up to him.

The phone rang three times before his raspy voice picked up at the other end.

“Trevor’s Trinkets, how can I help ya?” he said brusquely, sounding busy. I could hear music in the background, and pictured him at the counter of the shop, the phone wedged in between his shoulder and his ear as he tinkered with some project on the counter.

I grinned as I spoke, bracing myself for the backlash. “Trev, it’s Jeremy Parker!”

A long silence. I could hear his heavy breathing on the other end of the phone. He would have put down whatever it was he was doing, I guessed, to give his full attention to the call. If there were any customers in the shop, I hoped they did not mind foul language.

After a long silence, he spoke, very slowly and deliberately. “You. Fucking. Asshole.  Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t hang this fucking phone up on you right now?”

Because then you wouldn’t be able to cuss me out, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut.

“Have you got any idea how fuckin busy am?” he continued. “You couldn’t even call to let me know you weren’t coming back? I’ve got the whole shop to run all on my own now! I had to get my cousin Frank in to help me, and he’s about as much use as an asshole on your fuckin elbow! Broke two crystal signal enhancers and he can’t make coffee for shit! And you! You fucking fucked off with some outworlder floozy and leave me to pick up the pieces? Whaddya want from me, huh? You wanna apologize? You wanna get your job back? I tell you what, you can have your job back, you just come back in here and I’ll stick your job up your fuckin ass! How’d ya like that, ya fuckin beastkin-loving, unreliable fuck?”

By the time