Page 5 of Magic Claimed

I just hoped it wasn’t me he was mad at.

“Management,” he said coolly. “And I assume you have something in the nature of proof to go along with your accusations?”His arms folded over his chest as his expression went flat and unreadable.

“Of course I do,” the woman snapped. “They were soaking wet. Obviously, they were the ones who set off the sprinkler system. And now they’re dry, which meansmagic.”

She somehow managed to make the word sound dirty. As if she were disgusted by its very existence.

“So you’re upset because you believe your neighbors triggered the fire alarm? Or because they’re Idrian?” Faris’s face didn’t even twitch, but I knew him well enough to be just a teeny bit afraid of whatever was about to happen.

“Not just Idrian,” my neighbor declared staunchly, while somehow making it clear that being Idrian was sufficient to earn her mistrust. “They’re up to something shady. There’s always someone coming and going late at night. Kids that don’t seem to belong to anybody. People knocking on doors and asking prying questions. There was that violent attack last week, and now they’ve nearly set us all on fire. If you ask me, they’re probably hiding from the law.”

This wassonot going to end well.

“And what is it you expect me to do?” If anything, Faris’s voice was now even calmer than before, and his pose grew dangerously rigid.

But clearly, my neighbor’s ability to read body language was either currently offline or severely impaired.

“I want them evicted,” she insisted. “We all do.”

At that point, she looked around at her fellow complainants for support, apparently expecting a chorus of ayes. Unfortunately for her, most of them seemed to have afar better sense of self-preservation and had begun to back away.

“Let me see if I’ve heard you correctly.” Faris bit off each syllable with harsh precision. “You are requesting that I discriminate against your neighbor based on your supposition about her race. That I violate at least a dozen laws, including those requiring reasonable cause and advance notice for an eviction. And that I do so based not on evidence but on your personal bias and your assumption that the victim of a violent crime must necessarily be at fault.”

On a normal day, Faris preferred to communicate in grunts, or at most, short, grumpy sentences. The fact that he was starting to sound like a lawyer meant that someone was about to experience the true and terrible meaning of regret.

I kind of expected the woman to back down a bit, or perhaps moderate her approach. Instead, she picked up her metaphorical shovel and kept digging.

“None of us will feel safe as long as they’re allowed to live here,” she proclaimed belligerently. “So if you refuse to deliver this message to your superiors, I will be sure to inform the management company and the owner that their employees are failing to meet the needs of their tenants. For the monthly rent I pay, I expect better attention to both safety concernsandcustomer service.”

By now, I just sort of wished I had popcorn.

“Be my guest,” Faris rumbled.

The woman whipped her phone out of the pocket of her floral bathrobe and began scrolling. “Here it is,” she muttered, before punching in a number and setting the phone on speaker,presumably so all of us could hear how devastating her takedown was going to be.

During working hours on an ordinary day, the number for emergency services would go to a separate office, where a goblin named Tim managed everything tech related for Faris’s varied properties throughout the city. Apparently, many goblins had a strong affinity for computers, and the problem had yet to arise that Tim couldn’t solve.

But forthisbuilding in the middle of the night?

Faris held up his own phone and stared at it thoughtfully for a moment until it began to ring.

“Wonder who that could be?” he said sarcastically, before tapping to answer.

“Yes?”

The voice echoing out of my neighbor’s phone startled all of them into taking a second look at the representative of “management.”

“I… have a complaint.” The woman’s voice was starting to crack, but for some reason, once started down this road, she couldn’t seem to find the exit.

“Is it regarding the activation of the fire alarms at eight thirty-one West Sheridan at twelve fifty-seven AM?”

My neighbor stared at her phone as if it were a snake that might decide to bite, then looked back at Faris.

“I demand to speak to your supervisor,” she said boldly, and I had to smother a snort of laughter.

Faris lowered his phone and stepped forward, his eyes flaring bright emerald green.

“Speaking,” he said.