by RJ Blain
His smirk broadened to a grin. “You’re of no use to me in prison.”
“I’m so glad we agree on that.”
“Since I’ve already contracted an ever-worsening case of foot in mouth disease, what skills do you have that translates well to corporate work?”
“Auditing.”
His smile vanished, replaced with a thoughtful expression. “Auditing?”
“You know, finding where people might be trying to hide money? I’m good at that.”
“How’d you learn that? That’s…”
Busted. I turned his smirk against him. “That’s something people pay colleges a lot of money to learn?”
“You’re going to make me lick your feet before you’ll forgive me for being a foolish, prideful man, aren’t you?”
I enjoyed the sound of victory, especially when it came from Malcolm’s lips. “I have a few grudges, and I swore if I ever got a chance to ruin their business affairs, I would, so I researched banking and auditing. I’ve gotten one of them, but I haven’t had a chance to get the others. I still think about it sometimes.”
“Had I known how perfect you are, I would’ve been the one hiring someone to kidnap you. So many birds with just one stone. What will it take to make you my partner and get your full loyalty and cooperation?”
I snorted at his question, the man’s audacity annoying yet amusing. He wanted me to be loyal and cooperative with him? As a partner? Had he lost his mind? “I think we’ve already burned that bridge, Malcolm. Be happy you have your mythos for your little curse specialist. I’m playing your game because I was stupid and made too many mistakes. Take what you can get and be happy with that.”
I lied a little, but he’d never learn the truth. However much he pissed me off, I still enjoyed the game with him, but I couldn’t let him learn that. He’d find some way to twist it to his advantage—and he might make me like it.
Under no circumstances could I let that happen.
My goals were clear. First, I would learn his family’s secret, get paid, and be content I’d taken the high road, helping Malcolm despite my anger over being discounted due to my lack of formal education. The sooner I beat the devil at this own game, the sooner I’d be back on the road where I belonged, leaving Malcolm and too many regrets behind me.
I made a show of ignoring the man, pretending I cared about what was on my laptop. Once upon a time, I had lived to discover what lay beyond the next hill. I’d somehow lost the desire to get up and start walking again, and I wondered what that would mean for me in the future.
Every choice I ever made for myself involved putting one foot in front of the other. What was I supposed to do with myself if I stayed? No, I couldn’t afford to think about it. Once I finished my job, the next hill to climb waited, and that was that.
Chapter Fifteen
I found it odd Malcolm’s family flew in a private jet to New York while we took a commercial flight. According to him, they’d left even earlier than us, probably to take care of some business in the city before the start of the gala. Malcolm’s costume took up two suitcases, which were labeled in glowing runes as property of an elf.
The airport employees were reluctant to even touch the suitcases. Hopefully that would deter people from opening them and that they’d arrive safe and sound so the elf wouldn’t have to eat anyone. I’d heard elves had a tendency to do just that when someone screwed around with their property.
I’d never met an elf before, and I didn’t want to start with the one who owed Malcolm a favor. My costume caused problems, as I was forced to wear it under a long coat with most of my jewelry in a bag doubling as a purse. The security guard narrowed his eyes at my bejeweled attire.
“Take off all your metal,” he ordered.
To do what he wanted, I’d have to get completely undressed, as even my damned underwear had gold and silver beads. I opened my mouth to say something, and Malcolm held up his hand. I clacked my teeth together. The guard and Malcolm bent their heads together, and after a few minutes, the guard passed me through the detector to an x-ray machine. I kept a tight hold on my bag and grumbled over the crowd of people watching me.
Malcolm chuckled and patted my shoulder. “I wasn’t going to let some lecherous guard put you on display in your panties.”
“The panties have gold and silver, too.”
His eyes widened. “If I’m not going to let a guard put you on display in your panties, I’m definitely not letting him display you without them.”
“Good to know.” I shot him a glare, huffed, and headed for the gate, my ears flattened at the subtle hint of jealousy in his tone. The damned man drove me to the brink of insanity. No matter how devilishly handsome the Scot was, if I kept him company for much longer, I’d end up accustomed to his displays of jealousy and offbeat sense of humor. Worse, I might grow to like it.
With his usual smirk in place, he lifted his arm enough I could see his bracelet. “How do you not have smoke rolling out of those pretty ears of yours yet?”
“Were you not invited to join the rest of your family on their cushy private flight?”
He laughed. “I told you they don’t like me much. I booked commercial for their sake. Within an hour, you’d have bits of several Stewart men in your claws, ruin your lovely dress, and possibly damage your jewelry. This was the safer choice for everyone. It would’ve been a nightmare flight.”
“As if this isn’t,” I muttered, queueing into the line to board. A hint of something rancid hung in the air. If I could’ve flattened my ears more, I would have, so I lashed my tail instead.
Malcolm grabbed the tufted end of my tail and held it still. “That should be classified as a lethal weapon. What’s got you so worked up?”
How could I mention the smell without offending someone? I turned to him, leaned to his ear, and hissed, “Sensitive sense of smell.”
“Pardon?”
“Something smells rancid,” I complained, snatching my tail out of his hands.
“It’s an airport. That happens with unfortunate frequency.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Never flown before?”
I shrugged. “I suppose I must have when I first came to America.”
“You’re handling this really well for a first-time flyer, then. I really thought you’d done this before in light of how you handled security.”
“I figured attacking the security guard would get me in trouble.”
“You figured correctly.”
Even I had to laugh at his wry tone of voice. We boarded, and I found the insides of the big plane far more cramped than I anticipated, requiring me to squeeze by people. When I found our row, I discovered we had a seat mate who’d already claimed the aisle for himself despite it belonging to my ticket. I tensed.
Malcolm gave me a gentle push towards the window. “Didn’t want the window seat?”
“I hate the window,” he replied. “Please, take it.”
It wasn’t until he stood and I wiggled around him that I realized he was some form of undead, and the rancid stench I’d smelled belonged to him.
Gross.
I shivered, took the window seat, and challenged Malcolm with bared teeth.
“Don’t mind her. You know how cats get.” Malcolm rolled his eyes and sat between us, bumping his foot against mine in warning. “Dead long?”
“Last week. Nice kitten. Where can I get one of those?”
“Trust me on this one. You don’t want her. She’s as high maintenance as they get. Damn lovely though, right?”
“You’re a lucky, lucky man.”
“I see dead people,” I hissed, unsheathing my claws. “I bet I can cut you into small enough pieces to fit in my bag, Malcolm.”
The corpse laughed, and decomposing flesh fell from his cheek. “Good luck with her, man. You’re going to need it. Still, prettier than any picture I’ve ever seen. If I’d known lycanthropes could be so damned beautiful, I would’ve taken my chances with o
ne in life. How’d you win a broad like her?”
“Right place at the right time,” Malcolm replied.
Most people would have called an unexpected invitation to a kidnapping the wrong place at the wrong time, but I had to give the man credit. He sounded like he believed it, and if I hadn’t known better, I would’ve been flattered. Since there was nothing new about men and backhanded compliments, I did as society demanded and played it polite.
I wouldn’t thank either one of them, but I wouldn’t tear Malcolm to shreds and stuff him in my bag—yet. It took a great deal of work to clean blood from between beads. Without Malcolm, I’d lose my wager with the devil, too.
Either clueless or sensing he’d barely escaped death, Malcolm ignored me in favor of our new travel companion. The rancid smell strengthened the longer I stayed in my seat, and my stomach turned knowing it came from a human—a recently expired one.
“How are you going to rot out?” Malcolm asked as though he met the walking dead every day.
I admired him for his flawless handling of a situation I found nauseating at best.
“I’m going in for mummification next week; too far gone for vampirism, and I didn’t like the compensation package for becoming a ghoul. I’m lucky. I’ll earn my freedom after a hundred years of service.”
The stench forgotten, I gaped at the man, my eyes widening as my mind went blank at the thought of someone having the choice to become undead. Without glancing at me, Malcolm bumped his foot against mine.
I snapped my teeth together, and despite his silent warning, I couldn’t stop my fur from standing on end.
“Mummification? What will you be guarding?”
My admiration for Malcolm grew to full-fledged awe, as the man seemed utterly unsurprised by the mummy-to-be’s confession.
“I’m hoping for a family vault. It should be interesting. There are several up for grabs among the mummification candidates.”
“Well, good luck to you.” Malcolm turned back to me, saw my expression, and laughed. “You look like you’ve never met a lingerer before.”
“A lingerer,” I echoed, leaning forward for a better look at the corpse with the aisle seat. In life, he’d been young—or I so thought. The green and black splotching on his face made it difficult to tell. “I’m Kanika, a freelancer.”
“Got a company reference?”
“No. I run my own business, Whatever for Hire.”
Malcolm groaned, settled back in his seat, and sighed as though the weight of the world burdened his shoulders. “That’s such a terrible name.”
I took a page out of his book and kicked his foot.
“I’m Zac. I died last week in a car crash. Makes me glad I cut a deal because I wasn’t ready to go yet. Do you do security work?”
Zac’s mention of cutting a deal piqued my interest. “I have. Did you make a deal with the devil?”
If he had, I’d be having a long talk with Satin about leaving the unliving roaming around stinking up airplanes I needed to use.
“If only I were so lucky. No, I was stupid. I cut a deal with a rival faction. You’re interested in unlife?” Zac laughed, but the sound was so bitter I recoiled in my seat and leaned towards the window. “Trust me on this one—pick the devil if you can. You get what you pay for, beautiful. I wish I’d known that before I’d sealed my deal.”
Malcolm grunted, and I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed because of Zac’s deal with a demonic or devilish entity or the offhanded compliment flung in my direction. Men. While I wasn’t above drooling all over Malcolm and his chiseled body, I didn’t call the Scot a stud, sexy, or any other true but objectifying cutesy name every other sentence.
In private, I might not be above testing his reactions.
“What do you mean by that? You didn’t get a good deal?” The devil’s deals were all about the details, and the Lord of Lies masterfully manipulated his victims into giving up far more than they anticipated, but he always, always delivered his end of the bargain to the letter. The spirit often got left behind, but that was what the devil did; he found every advantage in the details and profited from them.
Zac scowled, and another bit of his cheek rotted off. In the future, I’d think of those in his situation as rotters. If they were going to leave bits and pieces strewn around for others to find, there was no way I was prettying it up with a nonsensical, politically correct name.
I needed a shower already, and Malcolm was the one taking the hits—and the decaying bits of Zac—for the team.
“I dodged death in exchange for a hundred years of service. When I’m done, I’ll have nothing to show for my work. I’m free labor. At least with the devil, I’d get a fair compensation. When I signed, I was told I’d have meaningful, paid work. Turns out the ‘pay’ is my room and board for the hundred years I’m in service. I’ll start my free unlife broke, homeless, and out of touch from society. I’m not the only one who got offered a shit deal. It looked good on the surface, but after I thought about it, I realized it wasn’t. I’ve lost my soul for a hundred years, and delays in paperwork cost me my choice of undead. My soul, even for a hundred years, is worth more than that. I should have become a vampire! I signed up to become a vampire. I bet the bastards deliberately lost the papers for three days so I’d be screwed out of my preference. I’ll be a mummy—not bad as far as undead go, but it’s not what I wanted.”
The outburst startled me. I exchanged a long look with Malcolm, who had turned a suspicious shade of gray-green. I swallowed, wished I could cover my nose to avoid the rotter’s smell, and asked, “You’ve lost your soul for a hundred years? But how can you survive without your soul?”
“I asked that, you know. I was told not to worry about it. I guess they just need a body for guard duty. Either that, or my soul isn’t nearly as important as I thought. I guess I’ll find out.”
What was the value of a soul? Why bargain for only a hundred years? Curiosity once again got the better of me, but I knew who to ask—after I did a bit more digging of my own first. “Can you tell me who you cut a deal with?”
“Sure. I’ve got a business card. Not sure why such a pretty kitty like yourself would need to make any deals, but here.” Zac pulled out a battered, stained wallet and offered me a thin card. “That’s part of the deal, too. I have to send people their way. Too bad for them they didn’t make me swear to say good things about their business.”
“Indeed,” I murmured, reaching across Malcolm to take the card, lowering my gaze to read it. Two things caught my attention. First, Wishing Well had skimped on their business cards. Second, they were located in Georgia.
Interesting. No wonder the devil was on the move; someone was edging in on his turf, and I was willing to wager he wasn’t happy about it. I slipped the card into my wallet, aware of Zac and Malcolm watching me.
“You’re really not thinking about making a deal, are you?” If Malcolm paled any more, I worried he wouldn’t make it through the flight without getting sick, not that I’d blame him.
My stomach wasn’t happy with me either.
“I’m going to look into it.” While keeping an eye on Malcolm, I turned most of my attention back to Zac. “You made your deal before your accident?”
“Yes, two weeks before. Bad luck. A drunk driver hit my car. It caught on fire.”
I sucked in a breath at the memory of flames eating away at me, and my throat constricted. “Your car caught on fire?”
Malcolm nudged me with his foot, a gentle pressure unlike his previous kicks.
“I got lucky. I suffocated. The fire department stopped my body from burning. There’s fewer options if charred.”
Malcolm breathed in slow and deep, and his foot remained pressed to mine. “That’s terrible.”
“It is, isn’t it? I guess it’s a good thing I made a deal, else I’d just be dead instead of dead and on my way to a hundred years of servitude. I should be grateful.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if Zac would still be ali
ve if he hadn’t put his soul on the line in the first place.
La Guardia airport reeked of death. I made the mistake of breathing out of my mouth, and the taste of rot drove me to the nearest bathroom. I made it just in time only to discover two freshly dead women touching up their makeup and talking about the weather.
I gulped and sucked air so I wouldn’t puke all over them and their designer shoes while they stared at me.
“You don’t look so good, sweetie.” In life—damn it, I’d be happy if I went through the rest of my life without ever having to think of someone like that ever again—the girl had had red hair, but most of it had fallen out. On my second look, I realized part of her skull was missing.
No one would really blame me if I fainted, would they? I swallowed several times to control my stomach and remembered to breathe out of my nose.
“Yeah, babe. You really don’t look so hot,” her friend added. “Do you have the flu? I thought I did, but it turned out to be food poisoning. I never thought I’d be one of the ones to die from food poisoning. Not a pleasant way to go, let me tell you. Take it from me. Go to the doctor. I’d probably still be alive if I had.”
“T-thanks for the tip.” My first steps wobbled, but I made it to the nearest stall without heaving, not that I had much in my stomach, a small blessing. “What are you in town for?”
The women laughed, and one of them said, “A vampire offered to turn me. I’m fresh enough.”
Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of red caught my attention in time to get a good look at the red head flipping what remained of her hair over her shoulder. “I’m aiming to be a lich. Go big or go home, I say.”
“Good luck with that,” I squeaked, retreating into the stall. I turned, locked the door, and swallowed to keep control over my stomach. I wouldn’t throw up, not with an audience.
Something wet squished to the floor, and I shuddered.
“I hate it when that happens,” the vampire-to-be complained.
“I just don’t have the heart for this anymore,” her friend replied with laughter in her voice. “At least I didn’t spill my guts this time. That’s something, right?”