This scene is from the first incarnation of the novel. It made it through one or two editing rounds, and then I cut it out, mostly for brevity’s sake, but also because I didn’t like the tone it set for Res and Wyatt’s relationship. But, it’s an amusing read on its own. It takes place just after the Massawangee Cypress Swamp Stone trial when Resonance is talking to the necromancers about her mother’s growing interest in Doug, and dissipating trust in her daughter.
“I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do,” Wyatt said.
“You can give me a paycheck,” Resonance said.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Wyatt’s eyes widened.
“You know what I said.” She gave a cool shrug. “I’ve kinda been telling Mom I’ve been coming here for on-the-job-training for the past two weeks. I told her it was without pay, which she flipped over, but then I told her it would be given to me in back pay after the three month probation period.” She paused to gauge Wyatt’s reaction–which took the form of a bulging vein in the middle of his forehead. “Soon, though,” she continued, biting back a smile, “she’s going to start harping on me about bringing home a check, so I thought you could just write me one. Eight hundred ought to cover it.”
“I–don’t, I…” Wyatt stammered.
“Come on, I won’t even cash it. I just need to show her something to get her off my back.”
“I can’t just… Why didn’t you…?” He turned an accusatory stare on Quinn. “Did you know about this?”
Quinn looked nonplussed.
“We haven’t been talking too much lately,” she answered, voice flat, eyes daring Quinn to speak. She shrugged again. “It’s no big deal, really. You don’t have to do it. Of course, Mom might come knocking on your door, demanding to know why I haven’t gotten paid. She would, you know. She thinks I’m a drooling idiot. Even worse, she’ll accuse me of funneling it all up my arm and turn me over to some rehab clinic in upstate New York, which would severely hamper my saving the world and all.”
“Are you always this manipulative?” Wyatt asked, the first hint of a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Pretty much.” She flashed a wolfish grin.
“Why don’t you just get a job?”
“Please. I can barely look at people, let alone work with them. Besides, you’d rather have me here, memorizing all of your family journals and magic books and becoming your personal reference set, right?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “You are a little extortionist aren’t you?”
“If I was that bad, I’d make you give me cash.”
“Thanks so much,” Wyatt replied dryly. “If your mother has questions”–he sighed audibly–“tell her to call me.”