He pulled a cigarette from the front pocket of his jacket and offered it to me. “Would you like one? You seem in need of something to take the edge off.” Cigarettes were a common addiction with casters. Especially warlocks.

“I hate cigarettes. What do you want?” I repeated.

He didn’t snap his fingers the way my mother did to light her cigarettes. It simply lit as he placed it to his lips. Although I’d not seen one lit that way, it still reminded me of a parlor trick meant to impress. I wasn’t impressed. His vanishing was impressive but not that.

“I was curious as to why you were sitting alone in an empty parking lot this early in the morning,” he replied.

This was not happening again. He was going to give me real answers. Not talk around me in a circle that only he understood. “Until you give me answers, I’m not giving you any.” If he was curious about my actions then he needed to talk.

He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to say anything.

“You’ve got some tough shit about you. I like it. You don’t use the Kamlock charm to get your way. Kudos to you,” he said, then took the cigarette from his mouth. I waited because I was looking for answers, not compliments, if that was what you could even call it. “She kicked you out.” He wasn’t asking. It was a statement. I waited to see if he’d say more. He stood there relaxed as if he had all day for me to respond. I, however, didn’t have all day.

“If you mean my psychotic mother then yes,” I replied.

He laughed, as if that pleased him. I was glad someone was happy to see me homeless. My scowl deepened, and I crossed my arms over my chest to wait him out. I was tired of being followed. His showing up here in an empty parking lot was the last drop.

“Good for you,” he said then took a deep drag off his cigarette.

“Funny you should see it that way,” I drawled. “Since I’m without a home or job. You can see why I wouldn’t be as pleased as you seem to be.”

He lifted his chin and let the smoke out in perfect rings. With a sigh, he lifted his left shoulder in a shrug while his left hand remained tucked in his front jean pocket. He looked like he didn’t have a worry in the world. “You don’t need the Kamlocks. You’re not like them.”

I opened my mouth to say I didn’t need to be kicked out while I was jobless but his last sentence stopped me. “How long have you been following me?” I asked. I didn’t like it. The idea of being watched gave me the creeps.