The Witchfinder Wars by K.G. McAbee

Author:K.G. McAbee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, paranormal, witches, paranormal fantasy, paranormal romantic thriller, paranormal love romance, witches good, witches and curses, paranormal and supernatural, paranormal romance witches

Chapter Ten

Tommy

Clay had moved into and taken over my Dad's office about five minutes after he and Kinsey arrived. At first it had bothered me, a lot, but after all, Dad had never used the enormous room, or seen it even, at least as far as I knew. So I tried to forget about it, not let it get to me. One good thing about traveling around a lot; I don't allow myself to get too attached to things I can't take with me. Houses are places to live, that's all.

I paused in the doorway.

"Come in, Tommy!" Clay's deep voice boomed out at me from across the room. He was lounging in a massive chair behind the long desk.

He'd made some changes, even though he hadn't been around much due to those mysterious 'emergencies' he kept getting called out on. The floor-to-ceiling shelves behind the big mahogany desk, empty when I'd first seen the room, were now stuffed and cluttered and overflowing with files and metal boxes and computer disks and books, lots of books, some of them new but some of them looking pretty old. To the right of the door where I stood were rows of tall filing cabinets, back to back, all shiny black but dinged up like they'd been moved around a lot. The room reeked of Clay's cigars and I could smell an underlying hint of whiskey and some other odor I couldn't identify.

There was no one in the room but Clay, or at least so I thought. But when I entered and walked to stand behind the chair he pointed out to me, opposite the desk, Kinsey came out from between a row of the cabinets. My cousin had a grey folder in his hand, fat with papers, the WFG Ltd. logo on it in a darker grey surrounded with thin lines of gold and black.

"Kinsey." I nodded. "Haven't seen you lately."

He looked at me without saying a word or even acknowledging that I'd spoken, and I wondered how we could be related. Clay had the usual Hopkins coloring, blonde hair, blue eyes, just like Dad, me and the girls, but Kinsey was dark, hair, skin and eyes. Especially his eyes; they were so brown they looked black, which made the white surrounding them look almost fluorescent. He had a long narrow face and a high, narrow forehead and his hair was buzzed so short I could see his scalp.

"How are you, cousin?" he said finally, with a tone that states, as clear as can be, 'not that I care'.

"Fine. Considering."

I took the seat opposite Clay and looked at him.

He looked rough. His face was redder and his eyes were more bloodshot, and I couldn't see even a hint of Dad in him now, much less Grand. I'd never met my grandfather—he'd died right around the time my dad got married—but I wondered if he'd been like Clay.

"We've got a lot of things to discuss, Tommy," Clay said as he leaned back in his expensive chair.

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