Page 10 of Havenfall Harbor
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Griffin answers, avoiding my question. He bends down, and I hear the lower cupboard door open and the crinkle of a trash bag being unraveled.
With quick movements, he has the pig scooped up into the bag. He looks down at the watery pink mess still lingering on the countertop and his lips tighten. I watch as his chest expands slowly. He gives a barely discernable shake of his head and finds my gaze again. “I’ll call down and have this cleaned up,” he mutters flatly.
I step forward. “No, it’s fine. I got it,” I tell him, dismissing the notion immediately.
Griffin glances back down like he might argue. I step around the counter, invading his space, and he backs up after a few seconds so I can check under the sink. There are a few household cleaners lined up. I reach for the one that contains bleach and hold it up in my hand with a forced grin. “See? No problem.”
Griffin lets out a heavy exhale but nods once. “Make sure you lock your door this time,” he orders, as he moves around me preparing to leave.
I give the counter a few sprays to dilute the mess left behind and narrow my eyes on Griffin’s back. “I’m pretty sure I did lock the door, but thanks for the advice.” A beat of silence passes before I rush to add, “Uh…do you mind just keeping this between us?” I lick my lips. “I don’t want to start any unnecessary drama. It was just a prank, kids, right?” I feel an awkward smile curling my lips.
Griffin pauses again. I watch as his back expands as if he’s taking another deep breath. “Lock the door,” he mutters, and walks out without giving me an answer.
“Lock the door,” I mock with a slight snarl after the door snaps closed. Clean-up is quick, I’m only down half a roll of paper towels and about five minutes for the trouble.
After washing my hands, I head to the bedroom to grab my toiletries. I need a shower and a bed, in that order. I’ll worry about my schedule and my badge tomorrow.
Chapter 4
Quinn
My alarm wakes me.I blink, surprised how deeply I slept. I figured being in a new place, combined with the pig incident, would keep me awake, but I slept like a log. I tap the snooze button on my phone even though I don’t have any intention of going back to sleep, and let my head fall against the pillow, blinking until my eyes no longer feel blurry.
I snag my phone again and hit the icon for my emails.Checking for emailspops up on the bottom of the screen, but no updates come. Resigned, I toss the phone onto the mattress.
After a few more minutes of waking up, I pick up a chunk of light hair from my shoulder and stare down at it. The frizz doesn’t appear too bad, but I went to bed with damp hair, so I have no idea what to actually expect, or how long it’s going to take to tame.
With a low groan, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and sit up with a stretch. The wood floor is cool as I head to the bathroom, first to handle my business and then to check out the damage on my head. A quick glance in the mirror has me wincing. “Messy bun or braid?” I tilt my head from side to side, considering.
After a quick brush through, I put my hair in a loose braid that falls over one shoulder. I spend a few minutes moisturizing—a habit I learned to love after my mother constantly told me how important it is—and applying a bit of makeup. I already picked out what I would wear my first day, so I make quick work of pulling my suit pants and lavender shirt from my suitcase. The pants are good, but the shirt could use a steam. I find the small travel steamer my mother gifted me with when I went to college and set it up in my bedroom.
I make quick work of getting myself ready, and I end up sitting on the couch, back ridged and leg bouncing, with time to spare. I’ve glanced at my watch more times than I can count. I tried checking my email again, but the cellular service out here is nonexistent. At eight o’clock exactly, I jump up, straightening my shirt and smoothing my pants while heading to the door. My first stop is the front desk. Hopefully Wes will be there. If not him, then maybe someone who doesn’t take offense at my mere presence.
When I step out into the hall and close my door behind me, I check the knob to ensure it’s locked then head in the direction of the elevator. The halls are quiet and empty, and the tread of my flats are soft, so not even my footsteps make much sound.
As I round the alcove, I see a familiar back. Griffin is facing the elevator, his head tilted down. I step up beside him. “Morning.” I smile his way.
He continues to stare down at his phone as the elevator doors open, then gives me a slight chin jerk.
I widen my eyes and frown. He’s either not a morning person or he’s super absorbed in whatever he’s looking at on his phone. I try to take a peek out of the corner of my eye as we get on the elevator, but he has one of those privacy screens, so I can’t see anything but cloudy darkness.
I avoid looking at myself in the shiny surfaces of the interior and check my watch again, waiting for Griffin to follow me in before hitting the button for the first floor.
I bite my lip as soon as we start to move. The worry I was lacking last evening about not having my schedule is now eating at me. I should have insisted on speaking to Wes last night. For all I know I could be missing a meeting or something. My only saving grace is classes don’t start at Havenfall until ten— a perk of being at a school that caters to supernaturals.
“Nervous?” I look up when Griffin speaks, a little surprised that he’s now engaging me in conversation.
“That obvious?” I shake out my shoulders then glance over at Griffin. His eyes are narrowed slightly as he assesses me. It makes me want to smooth my shirt, but I suppress the urge.
Griffin gives another slight head nod as an answer. Maybe he’s just not a big talker, needs a cup of coffee before he’s more…approachable. I flick my tongue at the back of my teeth but keep a smooth expression on my face. I don’t need to be thinking about this man being more approachable.
“I don’t have my schedule or badge yet. I should have gotten it yesterday, but I arrived a little later than I expected. I just hope I’m not missing a meeting or something. This position is important to me.” The last part comes out softly, I hadn’t even intended to say it out loud. Seems my nerves might be getting the better of me.
“Why?” Griffin asks as the elevator comes to a halt.
“Why is it important to me?” I question, a little dumbfounded.
Another chin jerk from Griffin. I decide he must be a man of few words. “Hey, Quinn.” I hear Wes’s happy voice float into the small space. Distracted, I turn to the open doors. “I was just coming to bring you these.” Wes lifts his hand, and he’s clutching several sheets of paper with a black lanyard hanging off the edge.
