Page 16 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

After getting dressed, I moved to the kitchen, hoping to find something somewhat edible and preferably not moldy. The only feasible option was a box of protein bars. I growled low as I pulled one open and took a seat on a stool at the kitchen island.

The protein bar was an abomination. As I chewed the dry, crumbly excuse for food, it felt like I was gnawing on a piece of sandpaper held together with glue.

The faint taste of artificial peanut butter lingered on my tongue, making me grimace.

I stared at the wrapper in my hand, as if it might explain itself.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, tossing it onto the counter like it was offensive trash.

Eva strode into the room, her damp hair pulled into a low ponytail, a few stubborn strands clinging to her neck.

She was dressed in black slacks that hugged her hips and a silk blouse that gleamed faintly in the morning light.

Of course, she looked perfect. Untouchable.

A sharp contrast to the foul taste still coating my mouth.

“It’s a protein bar,” she said, her voice cool and disinterested as she breezed past me to the coffee machine.

She grabbed a mug from the cabinet with one hand, already pouring coffee with the other.

Her movements were brisk, practiced. Like she had more important things to do than deal with me. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Disgusting,” I said, taking another reluctant bite. As awful as it was, my stomach demanded fuel. “This is what you eat every morning? No wonder you’re so uptight.”

Her glare shot over her shoulder, sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you have an actual purpose, or are you just here to insult my dietary habits?”

I smirked and leaned back on the kitchen stool, deliberately casual. “As a matter of fact, I do. How do humans get around if they don’t have their own car? Or magic portals?”

She let out a scoff as she stirred cream into her coffee. “Are you referring to public transportation? Judging by your tone, I’m guessing you’re not exactly subway material.”

“Crowded metal boxes underground? Full of sweaty humans and bad vibes? Hard pass,” I said, shaking my head. “What else you got?”

She rolled her eyes. “I can call you an Uber. Do you know what that is?”

I stared at her blankly. “I’ve heard of it but never tried to figure it out. Enlighten me, wise one.”

“It’s a ride-share app. You request a car, and someone picks you up and takes you where you need to go.” She crossed her arms, sipping her coffee. “Welcome to modern civilization, Jareth.”

“Huh.” I nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds convenient.”

“It is,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “Do you even have human money?”

Wordlessly, I pulled out my wallet and slapped a thick wad of cash onto the counter. The bills fanned out like I’d just robbed a bank. Eva raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Subtle.”

“Enough to get me where I need to go?” I asked, grinning.

She didn’t answer, muttering something under her breath as she pulled out her phone. A few swipes later, she set it down. “Your Uber will be here in five minutes. Try not to scare the driver.”

“No promises,” I said, finishing the godsforsaken protein bar with a grimace. The texture stuck to my teeth, making me regret every bite.

After gathering up the few items I had with me, I made my way to the street, keeping an eye out for my driver.

The car that pulled up was gray, nondescript, and had seen better days.

I opened the door and slid into the backseat, the faint smell of stale french fries and lemon air freshener hitting me as I sat.

The driver, a middle-aged man with a weathered baseball cap, glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

I rattled off the address to The Shadow’s Veil tear, the garage that marked our entry point into The Below. He frowned but shrugged and pulled into traffic.

As we drove, I couldn’t help my curiosity. “So, how does this Uber thing work?” I asked, leaning forward slightly.

The driver blinked, clearly caught off guard. “It’s… an app. People request a ride, and I show up. That’s it.”

“Do you pick who you drive, or is it random?”

He hesitated, his brows knitting together. “It’s random. Whoever’s close.”

“Do you get paid upfront? Or is it, like, a trust thing?”

“It’s all through the app,” he said, his tone tinged with impatience. “Look, man, you don’t need to overthink it.”

I ignored the annoyance in his voice. “Do people ever puke in here?”

That got a reaction. The man grimaced. “Yeah. Late nights, weekends, college kids. Always a mess.”

I chuckled. “Do you charge extra for that?”

“Cleaning fee,” he said shortly. “You really never heard of Uber before?”

“First time,” I said with a grin. “Not bad so far.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence, the city blurring past the windows. Concrete and glass skyscrapers gave way to rundown warehouses as we approached the industrial edge of town. When we pulled up to the address, I handed the driver a bill far larger than the fare.

His eyes widened as he pocketed the money. “Uh… thanks. Appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said, stepping out and closing the door.

As the car drove off, I glanced at the shadowy expanse of The Shadow’s garage ahead.

The faint hum of magic hung in the air, just perceptible if you knew how to listen for it.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and muttered to myself, “Guess that wasn’t so bad after all. ”

With a sigh, I strode toward the Veil tear. I hadn’t anticipated sleeping over at Eva’s. This assignment was turning into more trouble than I’d expected, and the day was just getting started.

I walked into my beach cottage, the familiar scent of salt and sand mingling with Grelth’s constant cleaning supplies. The soft hiss of steam greeted me as I rounded the corner into the living room, where Grelth, in all his shadowy glory, was hunched over the ironing board.

“Ironing… underwear?” I raised an eyebrow, tossing my keys onto the counter.

Grelth didn’t look up as he meticulously pressed the seams of a pair of black boxer briefs. “Somebody has to maintain standards around here.”

I snorted. “You’re an enigma, Grelth.”

“And you’re starving, I assume,” he replied without missing a beat. “Why don’t you use those hands of yours and make yourself something?”

Leaning against the counter, I smirked. “I thought you lived to serve.”

Grelth finally looked up, his ethereal eyes scanning me from head to toe. He pointed the iron at me accusingly. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday.”

“So?”

He arched a shadowy brow. “Didn’t realize you’d become such a slob. Did you even shower? You smell like a combination of sweat, bad decisions, and misplaced priorities.”

“Misplaced priorities?” I repeated, laughing. “You’ve got jokes this morning.”

“I’m just calling it like I see it,” he said with a shrug, placing the underwear onto a neatly folded stack. “And judging by your face, you didn’t sleep much, either. What’s the matter? A bad dream about that human?”

“Can we skip the interrogation?” I asked, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. “I need food.”

Grelth sighed, dramatically setting the iron aside. “Fine. But only because I can’t watch you deteriorate into an even bigger mess.”

A short while later, the heavenly aroma of frying bacon filled the air.

Grelth worked quickly, assembling the perfect breakfast: four fried eggs, a bowl of creamy grits, fresh fruit, bacon, and sausage links.

He slid the plate in front of me with an exasperated flourish. “Here. Eat. And stop whining.”

I didn’t bother with gratitude—he’d just roll his eyes anyway. I dug in, savoring the perfect balance of salt and fat from the bacon. Still, my mind wasn’t on breakfast. It was on Eva.

I couldn’t shake the thought of her pale face, wide-eyed and breathless as she whispered my name over the phone.

Nothing that I’d seen since I’d been working with Eva had given me reason to believe she was in any real danger, but after last night, I finally allowed myself to consider if The Shadow’s paranoia was justified.

Maybe Eva really was a target because of her connection to Genevieve.

I poked at my grits with the tines of my fork, my appetite waning.

Someone tailing her could have been a coincidence, a random creep targeting a beautiful woman in a big city.

But combined with her deleted emails and such a high-profile client?

The pieces didn’t fit together, and I hated fucking puzzles.

Shaking my head, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to a contact I hadn’t used in months. Owen. If anyone in the human world had their ear to the ground, it was him. He loved money almost as much as I did, and nothing opened lips faster than cash.

Owen picked up on the first ring. “Jareth? My gods, I haven’t heard from you in ages. What the fuck’s going on with you?”

“No time for pleasantries,” I said, though I smirked. “I’ve got questions.”

“Sure, because you’re incapable of small talk. Go ahead.”

“Genevieve Witt. What do you know about her?”

Owen let out a low whistle. “Well, she’s got a hell of a lot going on right now, doesn’t she? It’s all over the news. Why? Are you taking a sudden interest in Hollywood?”

“Answer the question, Owen. What have you heard?”

“Relax, man. This morning, a new bombshell dropped. It’s all anyone’s talking about.”

I sat up straighter. “What bombshell?”

“It’s all over the news and social media.

Some serious political shit,” Owen said, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

“Some anonymous source said that she donated millions to a presidential campaign, but when the money was tracked, it showed the funds got rerouted. Not to election efforts, though. Something way darker.”

I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like her from what I’ve heard. Isn’t she supposed to be all philanthropic?”

Owen hesitated. “I don’t know, but it sounds bad.”

“Anything you’ve heard that isn’t on the damn television?”

There was a pause. “You didn’t hear this from me, but my contacts in The Below are saying it’s a setup.”

I froze. “A setup for what?”

“No clue. Just whispers, but someone’s working real hard to drag her name through the mud.”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “If you hear anything else, call me first. I’ll make it worth your time.”

“You always do,” Owen said with a laugh. “Take care, man.”

I hung up and tossed the phone onto the table, my thoughts swirling. A setup. For Genevieve? For Eva? Or were they both just pawns in a bigger game? Either way, this went deeper than a few hacked emails and paparazzi ambushes.

Grelth cleared his throat pointedly, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Are you going to finish that bacon, or should I save it for a less distracted version of you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. It’s yours.”

“Don’t sound so defeated,” he said, snatching the bacon from my plate with a smirk. “What’s got you so twisted up, anyway? Human drama?”

“Something like that,” I muttered, glancing at the time. My next client meeting loomed, but Eva’s safety nagged at the back of my mind.

“Fuck this,” I muttered under my breath, standing abruptly.

Grelth glanced up from his stolen bacon, his expression amused. “What now?”

“Work,” I said shortly, grabbing my keys. “Keep the house clean.”

“Always,” Grelth called after me. “But I’ve got my work cut out for me after your human-world stench has soaked into the fabric of this dining chair.”

I ignored him and slammed the door behind me.