Escort For The Witch - стр. 21

“Murphy”, I replied instantly, settling into the old, weathered armchair.

Eric only looked at me quizzingly.

“He said I hadn’t handled the job well, and grandpa would be very ashamed of me,” he lowered his head and sighed heavily. “He said you would have done much better than me.”

“I know, Sabrina already told me,” I declared, getting up from the chair. I walked to the window with a shuffling gait, and lit a cigarette.

Suddenly, Eric raised his head in horror, his eyes widening as he stared at me, clearly now beginning to recall the details of yesterday’s conversation with his sister.

“Damn! I didn’t…”

“No,” I interrupted, “but you have said enough to make her come to me for clarification. For which I want, at the very least, to knock you out.”

“Oh… bad times,” my sobering friend muttered guiltily, staring at me, awaiting my angry response.

“Yes, and I had to tell her about Flippy’s murder.”

“Oh! That's some shit… She definitely didn’t need to know that! But… Okay, what now?”

“I met with Mom today. They decided that now I’ll be doing ‘surveillance.’ ”

Eric glanced sidelong at me and chuckled loudly. Then he flopped heavily onto the bed and covered his face with his palms.

“I let everyone down,” he moaned after a moment.

“Not everyone. At least, not yet. Stop boozing. The sooner, the better. Otherwise, you'll lose not only your job but also your family. Sabrina is desperate. You've driven her to it,” I said, closely observing Eric's changing expression.

“I noticed she’s been acting strangely lately. But I don’t think it’s because of me.

She often looks somewhere, as if at someone… And I also feel that we’re not alone here,” he fell silent.

A hangover is not the best time for a serious conversation. And I genuinely pitied him. Deep down. Somewhere very deep. At the very bottom. Although, what am I talking about? My soul is bottomless…

“Eric, let’s try to find a compromise? We both know I won’t be able to keep an eye on her outside of university.”

Eric nodded in agreement and lazily scratched his scalp.

“So, here’s the deal: I’ll ask to have you appointed as my assistant, but on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Eric looked at me hopefully.

“You quit drinking and keep your mouth shut tight.”

“Agreed,” my friend replied without hesitation.

“What else does Sabrina know besides the fact that we’re hiding ‘something ’?”

A stifling silence filled the room.

“Nothing,” Eric said uncertainly.

“Well, I hope we’ll find out soon. The sooner, the better.”

There was a soft knock on the door.

“What!” Eric croaked.

“Are you two coming for lunch or not?” Sabrina asked, entering the room.

“Eavesdropping is very, very, very naughty, miss,” Eric said slowly and cautiously.

“Coming home drunk in the wee hours isn’t very nice either! And I wasn’t eavesdropping. I don’t have that habit. Go eat,” Sabrina turned around haughtily and slammed the door shut, causing Eric to clutch his head.

The 'Guardian' Order

Mr. Wallis sat in a large leather armchair behind a huge antique Victorian era writing desk propping his chin with his hands. His stern, wise gaze was fixed on the window. The Chief Guardian of the Guardian Order, always cheerful and lively, was in a terrible mood today. In his right hand, he tightly gripped a letter that had been delivered at four in the morning and labeled “URGENT.” The information it contained prompted him to immediately convene an emergency meeting of some members of the Order.