Sneak Peek: How I Downloaded My Mates’ Powers
Meet Reese Calder. She has three rules: don’t give anyone her blood, avoid supernaturals, and stay off the Supernatural Council’s radar.
She’s managed just fine so far—mostly by moving whenever the mysterious Prickle tells her to and asking as few questions as possible.
Then she inherits a house she’s never heard of.
Here’s your first look at Chapter One of How I Downloaded My Mates’ Powers, the first book in the Supernatural Piracy Duet.
Chapter One
There are three things guaranteed to get me out of my apartment on the worst of days: money, good food, and the Prickle™.
So when I get a call about an inheritance, it checks the first box. And the fact that the Prickle™ hits right after getting the news just adds to the motivation to get the fuck out of town.
Working in cybersecurity risk has preconditioned me to assuming just about everything is a scam.
So when I see an unknown number calling my cell at 9:37 a.m. on a Tuesday morning?
Scam.
The same unknown number calling twice?
A very persistent scam.
The same unknown number leaving a voicemail for Reese Calder regarding the inheritance of the estate of an Evelyn Calder?
Probably still a scam. But a scam worth looking into just in case. Because money, right?
I have never heard of an Evelyn Calder. Being left at a hospital at 3 years old with a stuffed unicorn, a backpack with the journal from dear old Mom, and some odds and ends doesn’t lead to having access to a family tree.
Regardless of the suspicious nature of the voicemail, my curiosity is piqued.
Not enough to call back immediately. I have standards, after all.
I scan the full voicemail transcript while some guy named Greg drones on in the Teams meeting in the background through my laptop speakers about how the access-level control exception is indeed only temporary after being in use for eleven months already. What a load of crap.
Working from home is a necessity for me. I have arranged my adult life so that meetings can be attended in sweatpants and where I work from is irrelevant. There are very few downsides. Listening to Greg attempt to redefine the word “temporary” is one of them. Another meeting that could have been an email.
Thankfully, my microphone is muted, and no one can hear my exasperated sigh bubble out.
“Reese?”
I unmute myself. “I’m here.” I purposely give him the ‘I’ve been here the whole time and you’re full of shit’ tone I perfected a while back.
“If the exception is still required after eleven months, we should stop calling it temporary and document the actual business requirements.”
Greg pauses, surely about to attempt to continue to bullshit his way through this.
“We’re planning to replace the system,” he finally states.
“You were planning to replace the system in October. It’s now March of the following year.” My face remains impassive, my tone bored, as I wait to see if he’ll dig the hole deeper or see reason.
Watching his eyebrows scrunch through the screen as he contemplates his next move brings me an odd sense of joy. I drink my lukewarm coffee while I wait.
“I’ll update the documentation.” He actually relents. That’s growth for him. I expect at least another three minutes of having to professionally call him a dumbass before he figures out it is a losing battle.
“Perfect. Send it over when you’re done.”
The call ends shortly after, and I reach right for my phone.
The voicemail transcript stares back at me.
“Hello, Ms. Calder. My name is Mark Ellison. I’m an attorney with the Thorn Group. I’m calling regarding the estate of Evelyn Calder. I need to speak with you regarding a trust that was established for you. Please return my call promptly.”
I stop reading and search the number. The firm exists, the website is real, Mark Ellison is a real person, but scam brain says anyone can create a simple bogus website and impersonate someone.
I search the firm independently, company registration, domain registration, history, and a biography on Mr. Ellison. He looks like your average middle-aged lawyer and exactly what I would expect from someone calling to tell me I inherited something from a dead relative I never heard of.
I find the firm phone number and call the direct line. An obscenely slow-speaking receptionist answers on the second ring. “Thorn Group, offices of Ellison and Price. How can I help you?”
I am tempted to tell her to stop speaking like someone put her on half speed and lost the remote but figure that may not be received well. I need more coffee.
“Hi, I’m trying to verify if Mark Ellison works there. I received a voicemail that seems odd.”
“He does. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Reese Calder.”
“Oh, yes. Please hold a moment. I’ll connect you.”
Hold music starts that is marginally less irritating than her speaking speed.
I don’t have to wait long before a steady male voice comes over the line. “Ms. Calder?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for returning my call.”
“I didn’t. I thought the voicemail was a scam and called the publicly listed number for your firm.”
He laughs, which is unexpected. Also kind of makes me like him a little bit.
“Fair enough. Not a call you would expect to receive.”
I like him slightly more.
“I’m assuming you know why I am calling,” I say simply.
“I do. I was put in charge of Evelyn Calder’s estate and the trust she created for you. I have paperwork to review with you before we can start the legal transition process.”
I stare at my bare walls and minimally decorated apartment. “I don’t know an Evelyn Calder.”
“I gathered that from your unorthodox method of returning my call. Unfortunately, I probably do not have the answers you want.”
“Who was she?”
Mark hesitates just long enough for me to notice.
“According to the estate documents, a relative.”
This is so bizarre I don’t know if I am more curious or frustrated. “Okay, what kind? And how did she know me when I never knew I even had relatives?”
“I can’t give you a definitive answer to either of those questions.” He is careful with his words. A little too intentional.
“Can’t, or won’t? Seems like information an estate attorney should have and be able to define.”
“Usually, yes. These are unusual circumstances.”
He avoids my first question, which I note. My last name being Calder never meant much to me. I know it is mine from the label in the backpack, but otherwise, there are no records of my existence. And I have tried to find them through various methods.
I gave up a few years ago when my search just continued to lead to never-ending disappointments and too many drunk birthdays. I decided self-pity was not for me, and if I wasn’t wanted for whatever reason, then fuck them.
“Ms. Calder?”
“Still here.” I open a new tab and try to research Evelyn Calder. “Do you have any idea how Evelyn knew who I was?”
“I don’t. I’m sorry, Ms. Calder.”
“How she found me?”
“No, I don’t know that either.” His voice softens, layered with pity, if you can name it through just a phone call.
“Did you know her personally?”
“Yes, for many years.”
“And yet during all that time, she didn’t explain why she was leaving something to a relative she never met and who had no idea she existed?” I know I am circling the same questions, but the lack of answers doesn’t make this any easier to digest or accept.
Silence meets me on the other line, both of us knowing the answer to that is also no.
“What exactly did she leave me?” A pit of tension is growing right below my ribs.
“A trust including a property and associated assets in New Hampshire.”
I wait for further elaboration, which does not come. I am starting to question if my initial assessment of Mark is correct.
“A property. And associated assets.”
“Yes.”
My eye twitches. And the pit grows. Trying to be patient, as it is not poor Mark’s fault I am dealing with this bullshit, I take a breath and continue.
“Like land? House? Can you tell me more?”
“Yes. Both land and a home that resides on the land.”
“Mark, can you give me a little more here? What kind of house? How much land? What are we talking about here?”
The pause is meaningful this time. I sit forward, waiting for his answer.
“It’s an estate on a substantial property. I think it would be easier if you saw it.”
“Estate is an expensive word, and substantial is subjective. Mr. Ellison, is there a reason you are being purposely vague? I can imagine you would appreciate the odd position I am in, never even having heard of this Evelyn, to be contacted about some mysterious trust inheritance for a ‘substantial estate’ by a lawyer who wants me to come see it with no explanations or further information.”
A sigh echoes on the line. “Ms. Calder, I do understand where you are coming from, of course. Unfortunately, there are no up-to-date pictures, and the best information is going to be in the preliminary documents, which I can send over. The rest is better seen in person, as any explanation I give you will not be adequate.”
“Please, do.”
“There are also financial assets associated with the trust for the property’s maintenance.”
Red flag. I know there is something wrong here.
“How much debt?”
“None that I am aware of.”
“Any back taxes?”
“No.”
“Liens?”
“Also no.”
“Pending litigation?”
“Negative.”
“Environmental issues then?”
“Not that have been disclosed.” He is chuckling at this point, clearly more amused than I am.
“Timeshare?” My voice is getting higher. There’s got to be something wrong with this. I just feel it. Yah, I know, I have no data to support that feeling, but still, when you know, you know.
He laughs again. “No.”
“Good, that would have been the deal breaker.”
He chuckles at that. “I’ll email you everything I can release electronically. Everything else will need to be reviewed and signed in person. Please prepare any questions for that time.”
“In New Hampshire.”
“Yes, Ms. Calder.”
Checking the clock, I count twenty-three minutes until my next meeting.
“I am not agreeing to anything.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to without seeing it and reviewing everything.”
“And I want the deed history, tax records, trust documents, land survey, and anything else pertaining to the property I should know about. And also, anything you have establishing Evelyn’s relationship to me.”
“Of course. I expected as much.”
My jaw clenches at that for some reason.
“Why?”
“Evelyn was specific and said you would have questions, and by the way our call has gone, she was correct in her assessment.”
“What else was she specific about?”
Mark is quiet.
“Mr. Ellison?”
“That the property should go to you.”
Well, that is not even the least bit satisfying. My work calendar chimes with a five-minute warning, followed by an email from Mark Ellison.
Subject: Thorn Group — CALDER ESTATE DOCUMENTS
“I am going to verify everything you just told me.”
Chuckling again, he replies, “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Want to know what happens next?
How I Downloaded My Mates’ Powers is coming soon. Join my mailing list for release updates, ARC opportunities, teasers, bonus content, and more supernatural bullshit.
