Whatever for Hire

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Whatever for Hire Page 14

by RJ Blain


  Malcolm relaxed his posture although his eyes remained narrowed. “Georgia, is it?”

  “Lovely place this time of year, especially around Savannah. Good luck keeping the girl out of trouble. You’ll need it. Oh, and one last thing. Kanika, replace your phone. It’s so troublesome having to make personal visits all the time. I might have another job for you.”

  The devil’s words filled me with dread. I’d survived a pyro determined to torch me. What else would happen because of Satin’s involvement in my life? I didn’t want to know, but I feared I’d find out. “I can’t express how positively thrilled I am, Satin. So thrilled.”

  “But you should be. Anyone who can survive a full-out assault by a pyro is tough enough to keep around. Excellent job, by the way. You’re surpassing my expectations already.”

  I only had one way to stack the cards in my favor when playing with a hand the devil dealt: bluff. “If you’re the one responsible for that pyro, I’ll make your death so horrific your successor will use your maimed carcass as an example for future generations.” I smiled my sweetest smile. “Do we have an understanding, Lucy?”

  Malcolm took a step to the side, shoved his hands in his pockets, and watched me like he expected me to bite, which tempted me to snap my teeth at him to find out what he’d do. I suppressed the urge and kept smiling at the devil.

  Satin sighed. “I had nothing to do with your accident or the pyromaniac. However, I’m viewing your survival as your job interview. Well done. You have passed with flying colors. I was right to pick you. Thank you for confirming it so early in our relationship.”

  That didn’t sound good at all. It sounded so not good I took a page out of Malcolm’s book and eased away from the Lord of Lies in case he decided to shed his guise as an incubus and reveal his true nature. He grinned at me, showing off his pearly, pointy whites.

  The point went to him, and I grumbled, “Why me? Couldn’t you have picked a normal girl? What did I do to deserve your attention?”

  He laughed, the sound far sweeter than I expected from the devil. “I owed someone a debt. No matter what, I always keep my end of a bargain, even until the end of days if need be. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, cupcake.”

  Dipping into a deep, mocking bow, the Lord of Lies vanished, and brimstone stank up the lobby. I coughed, blinked, and retreated outside, cursing the devil every step of the way.

  Malcolm stared at me, his eyes wide, his face pale, and his entire body tense. “You’re friends with a devil? Why are you friends with a devil? That was a devil, Kanika.”

  I found his reaction to a devil intriguing. If a devil threw Malcolm for a loop, the devil would probably break him. If he paid attention, he’d figure out the truth on his own. What other devil would get so pissy over someone calling him Satin? Then again, I toed a dangerous line with the Lord of Lies.

  If he got tired of me, he’d turn me inside out and leave my body for someone to find. If I really annoyed him, he’d take out anyone near me, too. I needed to be more careful, especially around Malcolm. I needed him to figure out the devil’s identity without my help.

  Lifting my chin, I stared into Malcolm’s eyes. “I’m not friends with him. He’s a client, and I don’t discriminate against species. If the client has a job and is willing to pay me a fair wage for the work, I take the job. He paid well for my work.”

  Malcolm scowled, and the sense of apprehension fled from the man, much to my relief. “You seemed pretty friendly with him to me.”

  “He just paid me. Of course I’m going to be friendly with him.”

  “If that’s all it takes to make you friendly, I’ll cut you a check.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Not a chance in hell, Malcolm.”

  “Toss me a bone here. Aren’t you supposed to be my girlfriend?”

  With the rental girl slobbering all over Malcolm’s car, did he really think I’d fall for that? “I bet she’d volunteer in a hurry.”

  “She’s in love with money and fast cars. Sure, she’d volunteer, but it wouldn’t work out.”

  Right. Bubba Eugene had made it clear Malcolm was as picky as they came, and the instant the girl expressed interest in his money, he ran for the hills. “Yet you want to pay me to like you. How about no? I don’t think so. It’s bad enough your family already thinks you have a thing for me. At the rate you Stewarts want to throw money at me, you’re going to have to put me on the payroll.”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  Maybe I had been playing games with the devil, but at least I’d been playing against someone with a full deck. Had Malcolm hit his head during the crash? I hadn’t been in any condition to think about how badly he’d been hurt—if he’d been hurt. He looked as though he’d emerged from the accident unscathed, but I was learning not to trust my eyes when it came to him. All that pretty flesh hid a tricky man. If he wanted to tango, I’d treat him just like I did the devil. “I’m going to assume that’s only because you’re a picky Stewart man.”

  Malcolm grimaced, and I smiled my satisfaction at his discomfort. “There is that, yes. I won’t lie to you. After Caitlin, my family assumed I wouldn’t be continuing the family line.”

  Curses were serious business, and so were bad omens; if I’d paid attention to the ones I’d spotted while shapeshifting, I might’ve avoided so many burns. “What did your family do to get cursed?”

  His jaw twitched. “I never said we were cursed.”

  “You’re absolutely terrible at lying.” I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed, shaking my head at his folly. “No girls, low fertility rate, pretty men, and a dying family line. That sounds like a curse to me.”

  “All right. Fine. You’re right. I don’t know what happened. I hadn’t been born yet, and I don’t think my father had been born yet, either.”

  “Well, I’d hope not. That would make you an active immortal from pre-emergence, and that’s just bad news. I try to avoid the active immortals.” In truth, I was doing a horrible job at it since the devil insisted on paying me personal visits. I’d had a run-in with a pre-emergence minotaur who had wanted to breed with me, and I’d had a close encounter with two phoenixes once. To most, ten miles didn’t count as close, but when demonic hell birds lit everything on fire while heading to the mountains of New York to roost, I thought I was justified in my claim.

  “I take it you’re not a fan of immortals.”

  “Not really. Pre-emergence immortals are usually talented at killing people like me. I like breathing.”

  “Not all immortals from before the emergence are lethal, Kanika.”

  “They’re still dangerous.”

  Malcolm sighed. “I’m from a dormant line.”

  Oops. In the grand scheme of things, dormant lines were one step below pre-emergence immortals, carrying a history of magic within their heritage, which they fought to preserve through the centuries. The curse made a lot more sense, too.

  In all likelihood, the Stewart family had been cursed before magic had faded away from the world during the prior emergence hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. While I’d heard of dormant lines through folklore, myth, and rumor, I’d never met someone who openly admitted to belonging to one. Then again, he was Scottish.

  The Scottish had a monopoly on dormant lines, potent folklore, real myths, and magic aplenty. With such a rich history filled with monsters and mayhem, it made sense some of their traditions and folklore were founded on more than hearsay. “I see.”

  If he expected an apology from me, he’d be waiting a long time. No, being from a dormant line made him even more dangerous, right along with the rest of his family. Great. I’d jumped headlong into another fire, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d get burned again.

  “I’ll give you a better rundown of the situation at my house. It might help with the job if you go in with a better idea of what to expect. If the new information changes things for you, I’m also willing to renegotiate your price. We’ll swing by a few stores an
d replace your phone and laptop on the way to my house, too. As I promised, I’ll pay for them both.”

  I nodded. Within ten minutes, after Malcolm managed to convince the sales girl he really needed to leave, we were on the road. He hummed a merry tune while I questioned my sanity. How had I gone from kidnapper to the fake girlfriend of a Scottish hunk from a cursed dormant family line?

  When all else failed, blaming the devil seemed like a good idea. He always made a nuisance of himself, especially when it came to the details, showing up at the worst possible time. If I prayed for salvation, would one of his brothers show up?

  Then again, did I really want an archangel showing up? What would happen if I tossed a pair of them into the mix? Ah, right. Trouble. Instead of praying, I stared out the window and mourned for the loss of my quiet albeit difficult life.

  I expected a man of Malcolm’s wealth to live in a mansion. Had I not known better, I would’ve believed an average family owned the ranch, which was large enough to accommodate several children but small enough to classify as sane and reasonable. It bothered me, as the home gave the illusion of a family I knew he lacked.

  On the surface, the property spoke of wealth and welcome, but beneath the thin veneer, loneliness lingered.

  One look at his home and a little knowledge of his circumstances exposed broken dreams, and I had the feeling her name had been Caitlin. I feared I understood why his cop and firefighter friends had found me interesting.

  Men. Why couldn’t they be a little more honest about their feelings? In the time it took Malcolm to park in his two-car garage, I found new respect for Bubba Eugene. Maybe the issue of children in a dying family line motivated Malcolm’s cousin, but if Malcolm needed a little shove to get over an old flame, I could respect the odd tactic.

  However, being used as lady bait annoyed the hell out of me.

  Determined to remain civil, I unbuckled my seatbelt and forced a smile. “Nice place. I was expecting a lot bigger with extra security.”

  “Looks are deceiving. My house may not be large, but I have a nice alarm system. Bigger isn’t always better.”

  No kidding. Instead of succumbing to the temptation of cracking the obvious joke, I got out of his car, marveled at how empty the man’s garage was, and wondered what sort of car the girl of his dreams would drive. If he had half as much money as I thought he did, I expected another sporty vehicle would take the spot.

  If I were to park a car there, it’d be a truck, something I could get good and muddy. If I wanted something fast and pretty, I’d drive his—or get a rental.

  Probably a rental.

  I shook my head at my folly, swore to rein in my delusions of grandeur, and prove poor drifters like me could be good house guests. I blinked. Wait. Did I classify as poor with more than four hundred thousand in the bank? While the bank account belonged to the devil, it was my money to spend.

  Huh. Later, after I took a well-earned nap, I’d have to put some thought into that. First, I needed to get a better handle on the Stewart family situation. “Do you have any ideas about what’s going on with your family? What were you wanting to tell me?”

  “It’s not a whole lot. Caitlin and I were essentially part of an arranged marriage. I cancelled it. That did not go over well with my family. Beyond the usual bullshit, there’s not a whole lot to tell. It was supposed to be love at first sight, an alliance between my family and hers, but she blew it. I was very clear on how she blew it, too. She proved she couldn’t keep to look but don’t touch, and I’m, as you like to say, picky.”

  The implications of his words sank in, making his situation even worse. His resentment became a lot clearer, if I tried to put myself in his shoes for a moment.

  Malcolm had gotten burned in the worst way possible. No wonder his friends had found me interesting. If he was half as sensitive as I suspected, they must have come to the conclusion I meant far more to him than I actually did.

  Damn it.

  “All right. If you think of anything important, tell me. Important things include any actions Caitlin’s family might take against you.”

  “They won’t; the Stewart family isn’t worth their time unless it involves a marriage. I could see them trying to push the wedding forward, but they’d lose a lot of honor if something happened to me and it was traced back to them. Tit for tat. What’s the deal with that devil? I didn’t think they came out during the day like that. What species was he? There’s no way he was an incubus, else he would’ve been after the sales girl. The wrong vibe. And anyway, most incubi are demons rather than devils.”

  Huh. I hadn’t known there was a significant difference between demons and devils. “Sorry to break it to you, but I think you know more than I do. He just cuts the checks.” Since he’d been fair with me, I’d play it fair with him, too. I ignored the blow to my pride and continued, “I didn’t even think there were differences between demons and devils.”

  “In application, there isn’t. They all serve the Lord of Hell. Demons are born on Earth, devils are born in hell. Devils don’t like coming to Earth unless necessary, a bit like angels. Devils are usually more powerful than demons, and demons are more numerous. That’s the only real difference.”

  “I didn’t know that. How could you tell he wasn’t a demon?”

  “The brimstone stink and teleportation. Some demons learn to teleport, but no demon stinks of brimstone, and that devil friend of yours reeked of it.”

  It occurred to me that if Malcolm knew so much about demons and devils, he might have a clue on how to get rid of them. I held my breath, hoping against hope he knew a trick or two. “I don’t suppose you have a recipe for devil repellent, do you?”

  “Don’t make any deals with a devil, and you should be fine. They’re only interested if they think they can get something out of you. Just tell him no and walk away. He’ll get tired of you eventually and go away. Devils prefer easy, profitable prey. If walk away, you’re not easy. You might be profitable, but most won’t bother when there are easier low-lying fruit around.”

  I doubted that trick would work on the devil, but determined to remain civil, polite, and a little friendly, I bobbed my head to acknowledge him. “I’ll try that. Thanks.”

  A tired smile made a brief appearance before Malcolm cleared his throat, straightened, and retrieved the bags with my medications, then grabbed my new phone and laptop from the trunk, both of which had been heinously expensive. “You’re probably tired, so why don’t I show you around so you can get tend to your burns and get some rest? The painkillers have to be wearing off by now. I have some work to do, but I’ll wake you for dinner.”

  The dismissal in his tone annoyed and confused me, especially after his gentle smile. I nodded and headed for the door. If I wanted to get through the next few days—or weeks—I needed to be sharp, which meant a nap was in order along with a dose of the best painkillers and ointments the devil’s money could buy.

  Chapter Twelve

  The devil’s call woke me, and I was tempted to fling my new phone across the room just to watch it shatter into a million pieces. Snarling over my disturbed nap, I grabbed my cell, swiped my finger across the screen, and snapped, “Kanika.”

  “Enjoy your nap?”

  I needed to do some research on how to kill the devil. Only death would do. “I was until you woke me.”

  Instead of being properly cowed by my wrath, the Lord of Lies, Head Honcho of Hell, and Most Royal Pain in my Ass laughed. “Have you checked the envelope I gave you yet?”

  His tone made it clear the smug bastard knew I hadn’t. “No, Lucille. I was napping.”

  “How very trusting of you.”

  I would take my time plotting the devil’s demise, and I would delay his execution until I found ways to make him suffer first. “Is there a reason you’re bothering me?”

  “Yes.”

  I waited. When Satin remained silent, I grunted, rolled out of bed, and limped towards the guest bathroom. “What do you want?�
��

  “I would like you to meddle in the affairs of the Stewart family on my behalf. I’ve an interest in them, particularly in Edwin Stewart.”

  Edwin? Which one was Edwin? Bubba Eugene was a Robert, so I eliminated him from my list. Oh, right. Bubba Eugene’s father was Edwin. “I think you just like giving me more money for doing something I’ve already agreed to do.”

  “Ah, but you haven’t taken your Stewart’s job yet, cupcake. It’s unconfirmed. Until the bargain is made, it doesn’t count.”

  The devil was in the details. I grunted again, set the phone on the vanity, and splashed water on my face to help wake me up. I let Satin stew for a few minutes while I tried to convince my eyelids to remain open. After minimal success, I grabbed my phone, held it to my ear, and sighed. “I wasn’t aware he was mine.”

  “That’s because I hadn’t given you the good news yet. I’m giving him to you. All children should have a pet, and I’ve decided he’s yours to play with however you please.”

  I probably did count as a child to the devil, although I found his determination to slate Malcolm as my property disturbing. Maybe if I ignored him and his special brand of crazy, he would act in a sane and reasonable manner. I gave it a one in a million chance at best. “What do you actually want me to do?”

  “I have an interest in the Stewart family. First, I want blackmail material on the older generation. Second, I want intel on the younglings. Your Stewart, as I have so graciously bequeathed him to you, is off my radar—for now. Should he displease you, I’ll set my sights on him, never fear.”

  I feared for my sanity. How was I supposed to protect an innocent bystander from the devil? That I considered Malcolm an innocent bystander disturbed me almost as much as His Most Royal Pain in the Ass’s insistence he could bequeath a man to me because he felt like it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

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