After dealing with the police and telling my parents what had happened, I was more than a little bitchy. That seemed like the perfect time to call Marcos. I still hadn’t changed my mind about quitting. Even though I had no idea how I was going to handle my need for sexual energy or pay my bills, I couldn’t continue working at SpellBinders.
“SpellBinders,” Marcos answered, sounding irritable, which made sense since he’d likely been stuck dealing with the police last night.
“Hey, Marcos. It’s Allie,” I said by way of greeting.
“How’s it going, Al?” he asked. “You gonna be ready to come in to work tomorrow?”
“That’s why I’m calling.” I began.
“Listen, Al,” he interrupted. “I get that this has been a shitty week, but I’m short-staffed right now, and I just can’t cover your shift tomorrow.”
“I’m actually calling to quit,” I said.
“Quit? What do you mean, quit?” he asked, as if I’d just spoken some strange foreign language.
“I can’t work at SpellBinders anymore,” I told him simply, wondering how much clearer I could be.
“Is this about that warlock?” Marcos demanded angrily. “Does he have an issue with you working here?”
Leave it to Marcos to ignore the fact that someone—probably a serial killer—tried to abduct me after work, and then a customer attacked me in SpellBinders.
“No. While Dylan does have an issue with me working at SpellBinders, that’s not why I’m quitting.”
“I get that you haven’t been happy here,” Marcos returned with a resigned sigh. “It’s just not a good fit for you, but give me some time to find a replacement before you leave me high and dry.”
While I wanted to quit now and never set foot in SpellBinders again, it was unfair to do that to Marcos, even if he was a jerk most days. “Fine, I’ll give you two weeks.”
“A month,” Marcos countered. “Please, Al. You know it will take that long to interview, test, and train a replacement.”
“Three weeks,” I relented. “That’s my final offer.”
“Thanks, babe,” Marcos said. “So, things are going well with the warlock?”
“They’re going fine, but that’s not why I’m quitting. You said it yourself, the job’s not a good fit, and you must have noticed how much I hate working there.”
“True,” Marcos said. “I asked about the warlock because I heard rumors you were going to marry him.”
“Where did you hear that?” I demanded.
“I have my sources,” was all he said. “Just be careful, Al. Don’t let the witches push you into this. If you ever need a place to hide, call me.” Marcos hung up after making that strange offer. That was twice in two days Marcos had tried to be nice. Maybe he was possessed by a demon nicer than him, because that was the only explanation I could come up with for his strange behavior.