Jayne looked over it and realized Eve was right. Simple assignment. Grab an aristo and get paid enough money that she could have a nice retail therapy session to assuage her bruised dreams and self-esteem. “Sure. Why not?”

“Awesome. I’ll get you signed up for it.”

Alexios Hadrian Vicarius Scalera stood in front of the sink filled with dishes and cursed his very existence.

Gah, could I hate my life more?

Sadly, the answer was probably yes, but still . . .

No wonder he stayed pissed off all the time. At himself, his brother, and the minsid fate that had dumped him into this existence and then turned its back on him and his.

His boss glared at him. “What are you waiting for, dipshit?”

You to die and put me out of my misery? Biting that comment back, Hadrian ground his teeth as he fought the urge to splinter the bastard against the nearest wall, which would be so incredibly easy for him to do. But those kind of anger-management issues were what had caused him to be dumped here.

After a scalding lecture from his brother. Never expose your fucking powers! Are you trying to get yourself killed?

Most days that answer was no. But the fury that stayed with him was a serious threat to those who crossed him.

And this arrogant prick had no clue how close to death he trod.

Instead of punching him like he wanted, Hadrian slid his gaze to the asshole who owned the restaurant where he worked— not because he wanted this insufferable job, but because Isak was the only one willing to pay him hard creds under the table and ask no questions.

“I’m waiting for you to repair the bot that washes these.”

Isak clapped him on the back. “That would be you, Vicar. Get started.”

Don’t hit him . . . Hadrian didn’t know what he hated more. This mess or that stupid nickname he’d given up by accident. He’d been using an alias that was completely unrelated to any of his numerous real names.

But the moment Isak had asked, Vicar had slipped out. Damn his brother for that ridiculous moniker that only Nero used.

Now he was stuck with it.

Well at least you didn’t say Hady.

Yeah, he hated that one more.

Irritated beyond belief, he waited for Isak to vanish. Then he glanced around to make sure he was alone.

Yep . . .

“Want your dishes done, bitch?” He snapped his fingers and they were in place, washed and dried.

His brother would kill him if he ever saw him use his powers in public like this. Never mind for something so trivial.

But he wasn’t about to waste what little youth he had left doing anything so distasteful, even if it did give him a low-grade headache to use his powers to do it.

Gah, Hadrian was so sick of hiding and being told what to do. How to live . . .