Free Sidekick by Auralee Wallace

now?”
    “I’m, uh…I’m, uh, doing feminine things.”
    “Feminine things?” he parroted slowly. “You know this isn’t the 1950s. I am aware of the Dark Arts.”
    “Ha! Dark Arts. That’s good…yeah,” I said, softly punching myself in the forehead with my knuckles.
    “Right. Okay, seeing as my career as an expert rapport builder is going nowhere, I might as well get to the point. I’m doing a piece on the Sultana and her crew, and I wanted to maybe interview you.”
    Sure. Interview me. That’s all. It wasn’t as if he wanted to see me.
    “And I wanted to see you.”
    “You’ve got to stop doing that,” I muttered, pondering for half a second the possibility that he was a mind-reading witch, but I pulled myself back before I got too sucked into the fantasy of him stirring a cauldron without his shirt on.
    “Doing what?”
    “Never mind.” I paused, taking a moment to think. Was this really a good idea? I hadn’t exactly gotten my life sorted out. Mr. Pushkin was going to kill me if I didn’t come up with another thousand dollars, I was indebted to Mr. Raj who was raising baby stripper-vipers, and I was using an alias to protect myself from my very own father. It really didn’t seem like the best time to add romance to the mix. Then again, anything involving that many muscles couldn’t be a bad idea.
    “Sure. I’d love to do an interview.”
    Reporter dude probably said something in return, but I didn’t hear it. The elevator had suddenly hummed to life.
    I sure hadn’t pressed the button, but it was moving, coming down to be precise.
    “Um, I’m going to have to call you back.”
    “Sure, I—”
    I hung up on Muscles. I really needed to find out his name.
    Glowing yellow numbers above the elevator door were pinging down, four…three…two…
    Okay, I didn’t have any weapons, and my feet were swollen and possibly explosive. That meant my only shot was to throw my cell phone directly at the head of whatever was coming out of that elevator. I lifted my arm, poised to strike.
    The elevator pinged one last time and then stopped.
    The doors opened.
    It was empty.
    Huh.
    I stood with my arm still up, weighing my options. The yellow glow coming out from the open box did look inviting, and my old phone was somewhere at this address. Therefore, it stood to reason that Ryder was at this address. And I wanted to talk to Ryder. And Ryder wasn’t on the ground floor. Therefore, I should probably get in the elevator.
    I just wished the elevator didn’t also seem so much like a coffin.
    I gulped and stepped forward.
    I could do this. Lately I was the poster child for girls who do hard things.
    I hobbled in and turned around.
    I looked at the glowing floor numbers. I already knew which one I was going to press.
    Top floor.
    My destiny was on the top floor.
    I punched the button and clasped my hands together. I suddenly really needed to pee.
    If she didn’t kill me, maybe Ryder would let me use her washroom.

Chapter Eleven
    Ping!
    The elevator doors slid open. It took a moment for me to understand what I was seeing. Then the words This is more like it! popped into my head.
    Soft lighting illuminated a nighttime oasis. Towering plants with large flat leaves beckoned me forward with their swaying branches. I breathed in deeply. The bamboo floors and sandalwood furniture mixed with the faint smell of spice suddenly made me feel like I had been transported to Tibet, but instead of mountains looming overhead, painted masks gazed down calmly from the walls.
    The doors of the elevator began to shut.
    I hurried out and stood very still. Ryder could be anywhere. My eyes darted to the ceiling, fully expecting to see her hanging there like a spider.
    Nope. Clear.
    I considered calling out, but I was pretty sure hearing my own voice would make me pee my pants. Obviously, someone had sent the elevator down for me. I would wait.
    Five minutes passed.
    Nothing.
    My finger itched. The down button on the elevator