The week was almost over (two days left, specifically), and I still hadn't managed to win over Dallas. Despite his little confession that he would eventually dislike the future lifestyle he crafted for himself, he seemed ridiculously unwilling to relinquish it. Fucking societal brainwashing, if you ask me.
I'd been trying to sway him diligently though. While I'd backed off at first, the last few days had been nothing but verbal reasoning coupled with the occasional supernatural reinforcement when I tried to drag us into something dangerous. No matter what I did, the bastard wouldn't budge. With only two days left, I knew I had to come up with something that'd make him realize what he'd be giving up without the adrenaline lethality of the supernatural provided.
Heading off to work, I decided I'd strategize that evening. If I waited to enact my plan on the last day, he was more likely to make his decision while still thrumming with adrenaline, which meant he'd be more honest. Something I'd noticed about Dallas was his tongue getting a little looser after narrowly escaping death.
Honestly, if he hadn't told me himself that he'd feel free living as an Exterminator over restless as a house-husband with a banal occupation, I wouldn't have pushed him so hard. I could've ignored the way his eyes lit up with excitement and how his body responded so naturally to any hint of danger. Forgetting his eager willingness to join me in the fray would've been simple too. Of course, he always took the slightly more responsible role, insisted on calling Channing--usually--but there was never a doubt in my mind that he was accustomed to a lifestyle that wouldn't allow him to have the nuclear family and nine-to-five accounting job on the weekdays.
And while neither of us had volunteered to sit down and hash out any overly personal, overly emotional backstories, I had a nagging feeling that Dallas had been steeped in an environment that called for him to act that way--responsible, yet chaotic. Maybe it'd been necessity, but maybe it was something he'd always thrived on.
If things didn't come to a head soon, I'd have to resign myself to the fact that it might not hurt to dig into his past a little more, figure out exactly what I was dealing with. Dallas took up the mantles of caretaker and closeted adrenaline junkie with practiced ease, but sometimes a glimmer of that resigned anguish in his eyes from the first day we met would creep back in. There was more to him than what met the eye, and if I had to use that information to make him understand Extermination was where he belonged, then that was exactly what I would do.
So, I found myself walking among the aisles of the Bargain Bin, tidying up the shelves as I racked my brain for the best way to draw Dallas to my side. A ghost wouldn't do it, but something like a fucking wendigo wouldn't either. That was a bit too hardcore. I didn't want us to actually die, just get a little close to make it spicy. Perhaps a troll or banshee would do the trick…
"Fuck," I muttered, grimacing at a bottle of soap that'd fallen off the shelf and spilled on the floor. I went to the front of the store to grab a wet floor sign, resolutely ignoring the three-person line the cashier had. I wasn't in the mood to deal with people. She could handle them. If not, she'd page me the second I got the back of the store, as per usual.
God, I hope she didn't page me.
Popping the wet floor sign next to the puddle, I gathered the mop and bucket from the backroom. As I waited for the bucket to fill from the tap by the door, I heard something fall off the large, industrial shelves in the back. My dumb ass had left the door open earlier, so it was possible someone had slipped in. Unlikely, but possible.
I turned off the tap. Walking back to the shelves, I glanced around. No one was there.
It felt hot though. Like, all of a sudden, the temperature in the back corner shifted to almost boiling. I stepped back and noticed the sudden drop in temperature--back to normal. Weird. My mind immediately jumped to the supernatural, but there was no fucking way. Even supernatural creatures had to draw certain lines. That was my workplace.
Chalking the temperature change up to the Bargain Bin's faulty ventilation system, I went back to my mop bucket. I finished filling it, and then headed back out to clean the soap spill. The floor was slicker than snot. Right as I finished up, the phone pager went off. Sighing, I walked back to the front and helped cut down the checkout line, got the cashier some change, and headed back to the aisles.
Once I put the mop away, I only had two aisles left to tidy up. Then, it'd only be an hour until I could leave, thank God! I was bored out of my mind, and plotting ways to make Dallas an Exterminator only took so much brain power.
Pushing the mop bucket to the back, I noticed the temperature change as soon as I stepped through the threshold. The air felt thick and hot, humid with a stickiness that made my clothes cling to my skin uncomfortably. Okay, there had to be something supernatural happening. That couldn't be shitty ventilation, right?
I stepped around the side of the mop closet to peer into the rest of the backroom. The door banged shut behind me. Mop forgotten, it clattered to the floor, knocking over the bucket. I whirled around. Behind the door was a perfectly human-looking woman.
Except for the fire on her palms.
"You aren't here to talk about a refund, are you?"
"No." The woman flung a fireball at me.
I ducked out of the way and slid behind one of the cardboard rolltainers. Not my best idea to hide behind kindling. The fireball hit the floor, leaving a black char mark. Oh god, I was so fired. Well, worse things had happened. Hopefully Dallas would be willing to pick up a few more hours at the coffee shop.
Peeking around the cart, I saw her preparing to launch another strike. I ran out from behind the rolltainer and waved my hand, flinging her next fireball into the steel wall. It left another mark. Jesus. That couldn't last much longer. The store was still full of customers, another employee. She couldn't be allowed to keep going.
I ducked behind another cart filled with stacks of soda that reached about four feet high. While I hid there, I went back over my mental notes from the articles I'd read. Telekinetics had their own ways of transporting species back to their own realm. All I had to do was get my hands on her and will her back from where she came. Using my magic to move her from that reality would do it, but actually putting my hands on her… From the look of it, she could make her skin erupt into flames with hardly a blink. If I put my hands on her, she'd burn the hell out of me.
Unpleasant, but not fatal, so, there were those odds.
"Fuck," I hissed, seeing her shadow creep closer along the opposite wall. I slipped behind the rolltainer, waiting until she got right next to it. Her shadow vanished in the shadow of the cart. I shoved it, slamming it into her.
She screamed and toppled over, the cart clanging and packs of soda wobbling dangerously as it rammed into her. I farted over. Grabbing her arms, I willed her back to her home realm.
"Go back, go back, go back." It burst from my lips like a chant. Heat flared up under my fingers. Gritting my teeth, I willed harder, imagined her vanishing. Why the fuck wasn't she vanishing?
Fire erupted on her skin. I swore and jerked my red, bloodied hands back. She shoved me off her, another fireball was in her grasp. Taking advantage of my shock, she hurled the fireball. I waved my hand, sending it into the cardboard rolltainer. I popped back into a sitting position and knocked her back by waving my hands. She never fell, but she stumbled. Her next fireball dissipated.
I scrambled to my feet, figuring out what the fuck Plan B was, when I noticed she wasn't forming a fireball that time. Instead, it was a colossal wave of fire and heat. Even if I deflected it, there was nowhere it could go where it wouldn't catch on fire--fuck, that cardboard rolltainer had already started smoking. Damn it.
Maybe I wanted some mischief on my own, but I'd gotten in over my head. I needed help.
I needed Dallas.
Channing would've been great too, or Kassidy, literally anyone that had magic powers and understood how to Exterminate the supernatural.
She launched the wave. I swore and threw up my hands, stopping it before it enveloped me. Not having anywhere to send it, I held the wall. My arms strained and shook under the force. I gritted my teeth, feeling my arms give, my magic slip. Before it went entirely, I sent it into the steel wall lined with cardboard rolltainers. If I had to destroy company property, it might as well have been items we were going to recycle instead of sell.
Once the fire wall was dispersed as safely as possible, I saw she was already working to make another one. She wasn't even breaking a sweat! What the fuck?
Putting up my hands to prepare, I heard the smoke alarm go off, blaring throughout the store. The woman didn't look moved in the least bit, so I remained, ready to fight until she was back in her home realm. Whipping around, the woman began to launch the latest wall of fire at me when the door flew open and banged against the shelf.
It knocked the mop bucket farther across the room, and across the threshold came Dallas fucking Sturgill.