After a brief moment and the feeling of whiplash, Gracie's vision went dark before it became light again. She was straddling Sebastian's lap and went to climb off, when his hand gripped the front of her shirt. Gracie stared at him in surprise, but it looked like he too was caught off guard by his own actions.
She tilted her head with a silent question in her eyes. Sebastian fisted his hand in her shirt and pulled her up. His lips brushed against hers, but he didn't kiss her. Not really.
"This is the part where you let me get off you." Gracie pointed out softly, looking up at him through her lashes.
Sebastian gazed down at her with an unreadable expression, "Right. You're going to go get the dirt on that wanker. But a little advice, shortcake?"
"What?"
Just barely, did she feel his lips against hers when he spoke, "It's not wrong to care about someone who doesn't care about you. It means that you have more empathy and emotional intelligence than they do." His voice grew serious and quieter, "But what I want you to never do is beg for someone to love you."
Gracie's eyebrows furrowed as she pulled away from him. "And why's that?"
"You don't deserve someone who wouldn't fight for you. If he isn't willing to fight to keep you by his side, then he doesn't love you. You should plague his thoughts at every moment. So much so that he finds it hard to breathe when you're not near." Sebastian replied wryly before tapping the side of her arse, "Up now. You've got a scourer to hunt and I'm going to go walk around the merchant stalls to see if there's any news about odd beasts appearing out of now where."
Gracie did as he said, but had to admit she felt surprised. "You're letting me go onto the boat?"
"I know you can handle it." Sebastian said simply, taking a deep breath. His eyes darkened, "But just know that if anyone so much as bumps into you, I'll find out, and I'll kill them."
"You're a sadist."
Sebastian's smile was like a bad omen in itself. "No, I'm territorial."
Chapter Forty: Secret's Out
All of Charles' employees wore white shorts that came to the tops of their knees and a matching white shirt. The fabric wasn't just cotton, but a poly blend that allowed for it to be lightweight, yet waterproof. There were two large pockets on either side of her chest with three buttons down the front. She wore a white undershirt and white socks that came up to her knees. Even the shoes she wore were white with thin laces.
The pale color may have been to reflect the sun, but she wasn't sure how the Muggles kept these items spotless. There was already a dirt mark from when she brushed her leg against the bulkhead of the ship.
Luckily the man she was parading around happened to be... indisposed at the moment. Meaning Gracie knocked him out and shoved him in a storage closet before putting a locking charm on the door. He'll be alright. Eventually.
"Jack." She felt her shoulder grabbed and turned around to see another man with the same stature as her staring at her incredulously, "What are you doing here?"
Gracie blinked, hearing her deep voice answer. "Walking?"
The side of his head was smacked, "Smart ass. Come on, the Captain wants to see us. Says something happened to Frank and we'll be short handed for the next couple months."
He seemed disgruntled about it. Gracie fed into it as she followed him down the length of the steamboat, dodging tourists, and other staff members. "Short handed? We can barely keep up as it is."
The man snorted and shot him a side glare, "I think you can handle peeling potatoes just fine."
Oh. He was a cook? Then so was this man? What was Frank's responsibility?
They both went up one ladderwell before entering the Captain's cabin nestled behind the bridge of the ship. The man in front of her knocked first until a sharp command was barked out. "Enter."
She allowed for the other man to enter first and was caught off guard by the rigid way he entered. He took four steps in, a sharp turn, three steps left, and another sharp turn forward. He saluted and stood still, presumably waiting for Gracie to follow suit. Thankful for her astute observation and ability to recall it, Gracie mimicked him in perfect fashion. She sniffed, smelling something familiar, but then she felt the blood drain away from her face as she saluted; staring forward.
In front of her was Charles sitting behind a desk with a pissed off expression. Behind him was a man who wore a black bandage wrapped around the upper part of his face.
Harlow the Hippo with another lackluster appearance in her life.
"Good Afternoon Sir, Carter Mulligan and Jack Weller reporting as instructed." Carter spoke loud and proud, waiting to be addressed by his Captain.
What was this? The bloody military? Did Charles have a God complex?
"At ease." Charles snapped before clenching his fists, "As you both know, Frank was killed this morning and I think that stupid bitch has something to do with it. The cut on the tree was too clean for it to be an accident."
Jack's face darkened and Gracie's did as well, but for a different reason. The man peeping on her was sent from Charles? It wasn't random?
He continued, not waiting for any of them to speak, "While I can't prove that she's a witch-"
"She is." Harlow interrupted gruffly, "If she's as you described-"
"We confirmed it enough with her name and she referred to him by Sebastian. Two people traveling together just as your bounty states." Charles cut him off in a scathing tone, "We'll bring them onboard the ship tonight at six and then you devils can get the fuck off my ship."
Harlow's fists clenched by his side, "Tough talk for someone who not only wants our money, but wants our assistance."
"Your devil creatures are the reason two of my boats have sank." Charles growled out, slamming his fists onto the table, "My business is dying on this God-forsaken lake."
Gracie slid her eyes over to her cohort with a slightly curious expression. He paid her no mind, choosing to keep his attention on Charles and Harlow.
"It'll be taken care of shortly. You'll see."
But you won't, Gracie thought with her chin lifted defiantly. It was a mistake because Charles caught the action with a shrewd gaze she's never seen before.
"You there."
She stiffened and felt another smack on the side of her head from Carter. "You will salute your captain when addressed, boy."
Boy? The man was easily in his late twenties or early thirties. Granted, Carter was balding with a gruffness about him.
"My apologies." Gracie said without a hint of apologetic tones, "Good Afternoon Sir. Jack Weller. Ship's resident potato peeler."
"Cook's attendant." Carter all, but snarled.
Gracie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Cooks attendant, Sir."
"I need you to go to the market this afternoon and get strawberries, sugar, and wooden skewers for some asian dessert. The bitch apparently enjoys it and I said we'd have a feast of desserts tonight."
She cocked an eyebrow, "Tanghulu. Aye, sir."
Charles sent him a heated stare for a moment, obvious distaste on his face. "Where are you coming from, boy?"
Ah.
Bollocks.
"America." Gracie said with a wry smile. "If that's all you needed from me, Sir. I should head to the market with supper fast approaching and buy the food the bitch fancies."
"Harlow, if there's nothing you need here, get the fuck off my ship." Charles stated with clear displeasure.
Shockingly, Harlow the Hippo had his mouth turned in a frown, but listened. Why would a wizard be obeying a Muggle with no real authority? What did Charles have on him? Did he have anything or was Harlow suddenly docile? He worked for Rookwood...
There was something fishy going on. What she could infer was that the beast had been damaging Charles' boating business and the Dark wizards were trying to capture it while the Americans went after a bounty. Victor bloody Rookwood had placed an international bounty on their heads that was even available for scourers to see. This was going to make America difficult what with the clear divide between Muggles and the Wizarding community.
Her and Sebastian would no doubt stick out being European and having accents.
Charles kept his stare on her, making her want to shift uncomfortably, but she didn't want to give it away that she was nervous. Maybe she should though... A younger worker being stared at intensely by his boss would cause anyone to be nervous.
He stood up, walking over to a cabinet, and after a few minutes; he pulled out a file. She couldn't see the name from the top, but when Charles sat down and opened the file, she could see his photo. Jack Weller's from a few years ago standing on the forecastle of a ship.
"Jack Weller..." Charles smiled tightly, "American. Born and raised in Virginia. Williamsburg. I have family there." He scanned the page, his eyes going from left to right rapidly, "You've never lived overseas have you? Not even with your boating career."
50/50 shot here. Gracie bit back a grimace. "...Correct, Sir."
"Odd then that you knew exactly what dessert that I was referring to. Tell me, Mr. Weller. When was the last time you had Tanghulu in Virginia."
Ah.
Bollocks.
She really wasn't doing well at all here. Gracie recalled one of the places she'd wanted to visit since her job at MACUSA was based out of the District of Columbia. On a map, Virginia was very close. "In the last ten years, Chinatown was established in Washington D.C in the Southside of Pennsylvania Avenue between John Marshall way and 7th Street. I visited with my friends and tried it from a local vendor."
Charles nodded, "Is that right? I'm sure you visited for more than just tanghulu. What else did you see while you were in D.C?"
Gracie wasn't an idiot. He suspected something was wrong, but how? What was giving her away? Was her magic failing and she hadn't realized it? Her nerves were starting to set in and she could feel that shake in the bond between her metamorphmagus abilities and her physical appearance. She was losing control with each doubt in her mind.
"The Washington Monument."
"How boring. Where did you stay?"
"The Williard Hotel."
"Did you fancy it?"
Gracie nodded without hesitation, "It was nice."
Charles smiled victoriously, causing her to panic. "Restrain her."
She reached for her wand hidden in her sleeve when two arms wrapped around her much smaller frame. Gracie looked down with an irritated expression to see that her magic had indeed failed. The boater's uniform was far too big for her and if it wasn't for her arse filling out the shorts, the material would have fallen off regardless of the belt she wore.
"As if an illiterate boy who I hired cheaply as a potato peeler would ever use the term fancy in a sentence. You are a witch and you murdered one of my men." Charles reflected with a fierce glare.
Gracie laughed humorlessly with spite, "He was spying on a communal shower of women. Under your orders."
"To see if you were truly a witch." Charles snapped back, standing up from behind his desk.
"Newsflash to you scourers," Gracie all, but shouted, "But I practice magic fully clothed too! There was no bloody reason for you to send him in there."
"I though you'd kill him if found and I was correct. You devils belong in hell." Charles reached underneath his desk and pulled out a gun. It was a revolver and he cocked back the hammer. "You'll be a nice gift to leave on that snide asshole's bed since you're nothing, but a whore to him."
Gracie laughed. The grip trapping her arms to her side tightened and Charles pointed the gun. One eye closed as he aligned the rear and front sights with her forehead. "Do you really think that a Muggle gun can kill me?"
"A Muggle gun? No. A revolver with shield charm repellent bullets that I bought from the Black Market?" Charles shrugged with an easy, dashing smile. "Perhaps. Any last words, Miss Hunt? I'm sure your scary dog would appreciate some poetic words about how much you loved him."
She tilted her head, a bright smile pulling at her lips. "I have two for my scary dog as you say. Is that alright, Captain?"
"If you start an incantation, I'll shoot you before the word leaves your mouth." Charles reflected coolly, thinking that he had the upper hand.
Little did he know...
Gracie's smile never left her, but she let out a low, playful whistle. "Here boy."
To the left of them, the dark wizard uncasted the Disillusionment charm, causing both the men to freeze. Sebastian was leaning his back against the wooden wall with his leg kicked back and his arms crossed. For such a casual demeanor, he held the same eery stillness of a snake coiled, and ready to strike. Hostility and lethality rolled off him along with a bloodthirsty look that twinkled in his dark eyes. Instead of brown, they were almost pitch black with anger making it seem like his pupils were dilated. Pissed was an understatement. There wasn't a chance of Charles surviving in the next few minutes.
Sebastian's muscles flexed as he straightened out and a sadistic smirk formed on his lips. "Woof."
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(｡♥‿♥｡) Why is he so yummy? How do you think it's going to play out? Is Sebastian going to kill Charles or will something happen? Let me know!
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