The Odd Job

By Brennan Barrett

How would you feel about being hired away from a dismal office job, to work for a consortium of elder gods? Declan Aingeal wasn't sure how he felt either. One moment he is toiling away under endless stacks of paperwork and the next he is dealing with an army of killer clones and monsters of legend. It sounds like more than he bargained for, but how could he say no to the perks only gods can provide? Weapons forged by gods, the best sidekicks a guy could ask for and a sexually frustrated car to drive. As long as the girl he has a crush on doesn't eat him, things should work out just fine.

Dive into the series that people are calling a Harry Potter series for the older readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brennan Barrett
• Release date: Dec 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9780991833207

Brennan Barrett

Brennan Barrett is an off the wall fantasy writer from New Westminster BC in Canada. Being an avid fan of both comedy and the Fantasy genres his entire life has imbued Brennan with a straight forward writing style that makes for an entertaining read in anything his irreverent mind creates. Fans will agree, you never know what to expect next. For anyone that has taken the time to write a review, please feel free to contact the author via email [e-mail] There is always time for a thank you. Thank you to the fans that offer great ideas, you make the process that much more enjoyable.

Book preview

The Odd Job

By Brennan Barrett

Copyright 2012 Brennan Barrett

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this free eBook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

This book is dedicated to David McCann, my sixth grade teacher. For the first person to encourage my writing, thank you.

Discover other titles in The Adjustor Series at Smashwords

Sharp Things

Bits and Pieces

The Naughty Necromancer

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter 13 Chapter14

Chapter15 About the Author

Chapter 1

Paper can stink; its smell can be as unpleasant as an unmaintained dumpster, especially if you are surrounded by a miniature fortress of it on your desk. If you've ever been unfortunate enough to have veritable piles of paper, stacks of forms and statements on your desk that resemble medieval battlements, you know what I mean. I used to love the smell of paper. It always reminded me of favorite books and stories. Now it just stinks.

The main reason my desk currently looked like I was preparing for an impending siege by Saxon forces, was the result of a significant amount of abject hatred I had generated when I had inadvertently foiled Glen's budding office rape career. Glen is the snide and smarmy department manager that lives to make my life just a bit worse each day. Glen's preferred manner of interaction with me is an ABC checklist of a little more paperwork than I should be given, a generous helping of his own work added to the growing piles on my desk, bribing the mail boy to skip my sandwich order and stalling me with a series of fictitious questions the moment a fresh pot of coffee is made. I believe the technical term for people like Glen is ‘douche bag’. Alas, my working life just keeps getting worse as Glen’s boredom builds and it continues to build a little more each day.

How could someone who should be managing an entire department possibly be bored? you may ask. Well, he shrugs his own work off onto me in an effort to make my life miserable, at which point he has nothing to occupy his time and ‘idle hands are the devil’s playground.’

Glen must have been dying of boredom yet again this morning I noticed because the sandwiches were being passed out and once again my order hadn’t been taken. I was going to have to leave the office to get lunch and that meant being the last one out the door tonight. It also meant dealing with Glen’s retribution, all because Belinde had been gullible or stupid enough to let Glen lure her into the cubicles during a New Year’s Eve party.

Those were my heady days of clerical efficiency, of always being caught up on my paperwork and not hating my life. In an effort to maintain that efficiency, I had foolishly crept back to my desk to finish the paperwork for two claims that remained from my weekly work load. I wanted my statutory holiday all to myself without thoughts of unfinished paperwork interfering with a perfect, lazy day off. Ten minutes, just ten minutes without stupidity, lust or booze affecting my coworkers and my life would have remained comfortable.

Alas, good fortune was not with me. Glen pranced into the cubicles with Belinde and her gravity-defying bosom in tow for a little romance. I was just finishing the second set of claim adjustment forms when I heard Belinde start to panic. Well, that’s your fault for thinking you can flirt your way into a promotion without paying a price, I muttered to myself. Sour grapes? Hell yes! I had a crush on Belinde that was recognizable from orbit, to everyone but her. Grumbling and moping in silence, I was thinking I would be stuck hiding in my cubicle until the little act of office romance had run its course. At least that was what I was thinking up until I heard a muffled scream and ripping fabric. Maybe I should have had the presence of mind to leave Belinde to the fate she had manufactured for herself but I acted on impulse and instinct.

Looming over Glen as he writhed atop Belinde on the sorting table beside the large office printer, I cleared my throat like someone being ignored at an expensive restaurant and watched as Glen’s startled face suddenly took up the space previously filled by the back of his head. Startled or not, Glen still hadn’t bothered to move the hand that was covering Belinde’s mouth.

It’s not rape if they don’t or can’t say no, right? I said with eyebrows raised innocently. My snide comment seemed to galvanize Glen into action. Stiffening, he looked at the hand covering Belinde’s mouth below her wide frightened eyes with abject surprise.

Whoa, hey, how did that get there? the unspoken words playing across Glen's features as he looked down at his hand.

You may want to get off of her now, I said in a smug tone as Belinde struggled, still trapped under Glen's weight.

Mr. Aingeal, Glen began, his customary smugness returning swiftly, I don't know what you think you saw here but you are rudely interrupting Miss Dagmar and I. He finished with Belinde unable to say so much as a syllable in her own defense. Glen really was a self-righteous prick.

I'm sorry, I said innocently. 'Interrupt' is such an interesting choice of words. I didn't realize it was rude to interrupt a rape. I finished my sentence with mock sincerity and a curious expression on my face. It was so unbelievably satisfying to stick Glen with a bit of his own smarminess and I just couldn't help myself. Then I was quickly forced to actually help myself as Glen lowered his head like an angry bull and charged at me. The hollow sound that Glen's head made hitting an office divider was also quite satisfying. I had crescent stepped out of his way and he hadn't even noticed. Glen was one of those men who thought height made you an 'Alpha Male'; Glen was incorrect.

After a few minutes of watching Glen knock over half the dividers in the office, the fun finally ended. Belinde had decided it was time to say something, which didn't sit well with Glen. At least I assumed it didn't sit well with him because no sooner were the words 'Please stop!' out of Bel's mouth before Glen delivered a resounding slap to her cherubic little face. I winced at the thought of her perfect little rosebud lips being marred and found myself hoping she had taken the brunt of that savage swipe to her solid Danish jaw.

Hey! I snapped at Glen. Attempted rape and assault? Where do you draw the line?

Glen was rapidly digging himself into a hole that there was no escape from. I was looking forward to seeing him taken away in cuffs when Belinde said, Let's just pretend that none of this ever happened.

I had to hand it to Glen; his fine-tuned douche bag survival reflexes were top-notch. Fine, Glen spat, I'll go back to the party and let you two tidy this mess up. And with that, Glen turned and left.

What the hell were you thinking? I blurted like a startled goat. Belinde was already at work straightening or returning the disturbed office dividers to an upright position. I couldn't help but notice her wonderful ass as she bent over to gather a stack of half spilled files from one of the sales desks.

I just didn't want any trouble, Belinde moaned as she returned a rather large stack of paperwork to the desk it had been upset from.

Trouble is all we're going to see from here on, I growled. I don't see Glen as the live and let live type! Belinde winced at my tone of voice, which immediately made me feel like an ass. I'm sorry for growling at you, I said, but seriously Bel, why not just have the bastard arrested? We'd never have to deal with him again.

Her answer was, It's complicated.

And now my work life was a lot more complicated. I pushed my chair back from my desk and looked at my watch. If I elbowed my way through the lunch hour throng, I should be able to hit Standerwicks Deli for a meatball sandwich and be back in time to gulp it down with some lukewarm coffee before my break was over. My jacket was on and I was throwing my messenger bag over my shoulder as the elevator door opened. There was Bel, with Glen’s lunch.

Glen preferred to have Belinde bring him his lunch when he stayed in the office during break. I’m sure it was quite a treat to watch her bend over his desk with the necklines she always wore. Did you spit in it? I asked, reaching out my hand to stop the elevator door that she was holding with her foot.

Of course, she said with a wink. I winked back and ducked into the elevator before Glen caught us talking. We both knew he would be writing us up if he caught us talking. Then, in addition to the constant abuse, we’d be passed over for raises and promotions. Glen would love that. We’d be stuck in his little domain even longer.

The elevator doors closed and I was left alone with my inner grumblings. I liked Belinde but I wasn’t sure how I really felt about her. We had been giving each other signals before the New Year’s office party when Glen transformed from asshole to rapist asshole, but things were different now. How could I not be at least a little annoyed with her for not speaking up and having the prick arrested? Both of us were suffering because she was protecting the rat bastard. I wasn’t about to say squat until she did. I’d look pretty stupid if she didn’t back me up when I accused the office manager of attempted rape and Glen knew it. He also couldn’t fire me without good reason so he tried every single day to manufacture one.

I was starting to wear thin mentally. The workload was getting to me. I wasn’t sleeping well and I was becoming more and more irritable each day. I was even starting to think with foul language I suddenly realized, as I left the elevator and headed out the front doors of the building. Well, my father always said that a good meal makes everything better. He had lots of sayings that revolved around the ‘good meal’ theme, though he tended to call a meal ‘a feed’. And with feeding on my mind I elbowed my way through the lunch hour rush towards Standerwicks Deli with visions of meatball sandwiches drifting lazily through my mind.

I was drooling and looking food-crazed by the time I made it to the deli counter. There was no way my sandwich was going to survive the trip back. I would just have to keep my eyes open while taking bites this time. I had walked into a lamppost with a resounding clang once on my way back from lunch. The only thing that had saved my front teeth was the sheer density of the Standerwick Meatball Supreme. Dally, the girl at the counter, had laughed so hard when I told her the story that I thought she might wet herself. At least someone enjoyed that event; I sure hadn’t. I lost half my sandwich in that one-sided battle with the lamppost, and you didn’t waste a single bite of a Meatball Supreme!

Thank God Dally was working. She saw my face as I came through the door and had my sandwich ready to ring up before I got through the lineup. I left a tip as I thanked Dally for being an angel and opened the door with my hip. As I stepped out, I took the first blissful bite of my sandwich. I growled at anyone who ventured too close to me as I walked back to the office, because this was possibly the very best version of the very best sandwich in the world. I reminded myself to pick up something for Dally at Christmas as I peeled back the wrapping paper to expose the second half of my sandwich.

I must have been making sex sounds again while I was eating because one of the pedestrians waiting beside me for the light to change noticed the paper my sandwich was wrapped in and nodded sagely with a wistful smile. The light finally changed and I crossed the street while trying to remain mindful of other people and the remainder of my sandwich. Doing an admirable job of it brought me just short of the opposite curb when a black luxury SUV came screeching around the corner ahead in a tight right hand turn that plotted a beeline course directly through my body.

My fellow connoisseur of the Meatball Supreme, who was a mere half step in front of me, was saved by default when I dove across the remainder of the intersection carrying him with me in my flight. My heart was beating quite loudly in my ears but not so loud that I missed the three staccato pops coming from the SUV as it continued past and what felt like a kidney punch had me gritting my teeth. I quickly scrambled to my feet looking for something I could throw at the rapidly diminishing black Beemer when my heart dropped. At my feet lay the remnants of my beloved sandwich. Burn in hell you bastards! I roared. By Odin’s empty eye-socket I'll see you pay for this! My warped humor always kicked in along with my adrenalin. I admit, as defense mechanisms go, it's embarrassing.

I would have laughed at myself if I hadn't noticed the man I had saved still lying on the curb where we had landed. Hey buddy, I asked, are you ok? A weak groan was his only answer. I didn't see the blood until I turned him over and realized the poor bugger was in bad shape. It looked like he had taken a round through his side and one through the chest. I had played enough video game and watched enough TV to put the pieces together.

Hold on buddy! I said as I reached into my bag for my phone to call 911. When I looked at the phone to dial the simple emergency number I saw the mushroomed slug imbedded in the screen of my costly smart phone. Well, that explained the kidney punch I felt. I reached back to feel for blood as I called out to bystanders to call 911.

Just hold on, I reassured the man, help is on the way.

People say that the dying often have that moment of clarity just before the end. I saw it now as the mortally wounded man in my arms reached up a bloody hand to grip the back of my head with a frantic strength.

It's too late for me son. You've spoken the words and called upon your God. It's up to you now.

What are you saying, old man? Just be still, I pleaded, once again trying to be comforting in a hopeless situation. It only made him offer up a sad smile.

What is your name? he asked, his voice growing more faint with each word.

It's Declan sir, Declan Aingeal. He gave a slight nod as if everything made sense and all was right with the world, but it wasn't and I still didn't hear sirens.

Be vigilant Declan. You will be contacted but you are not yet safe. With those puzzling words, the back of my head exploded with intense heat. Out of pure instinct I reached up with my left hand to pry his hand away, still supporting his fading body with the other.

As my hand covered his, the supernova at the base of my skull suddenly turned to ice and time stopped. Time actually stopped. I took a breath that sounded like rushing wind and distant thunder. People around us were frozen in mid stride and gesture. The dying stranger and I locked eyes for what seemed like hours and I swore I could hear a cavalry charge of hooves and an oddly musical peal of horns or trumpets. I felt a hurricane blowing straight through my soul for an unknown length of time and suddenly with a flash of light that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Time began to march forward once more. The polite, unassumingly dressed stranger went limp and his hand slipped from the back of my head to fall at his side.

I wasn't even thirty years old and a complete stranger had just died in my arms. I mean, sure I wasn't the first guy that had held a stranger while they died but son of a