Client from Hell

by R. J. Blain

  I stared at the incubus, although I followed him into the bathroom. “That scale doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Okay, mad is you knowing you don’t get to be my bed buddy for a week for a good reason. Pissed is when you don’t get to be my bed buddy for a month, and there’s no good reason for it.”

  I gasped. “An entire month?”

  “Absolutely wrong, right? That’s him when he’s pissed. He’s probably breathing literal fire right now. He’s angry enough his shroud might slip, so I bet Diana is working on shrouding him to prevent any mistakes he would later regret. He’s come to learn if in doubt, get Diana to cover him. He might ask you for help, too.”

  “We better make this a quick shower,” I muttered, and went to work restoring myself to a semi-coherent state. Aware I’d have to go to a meeting that mattered, I took the time to apply makeup, grunting over my short hair. “I should be happy I have any hair, but this stubble is not cutting it for me.”

  “Oh, right. Your hair.” Jonas, who’d taken a blitz shower and thrown on a suit, strode out of the room and returned a few minutes later with several scraps of paper. “Lucifer had a practitioner specialized in hair work make the runes for you, so you can just give them a good shake and activate them with the word written on each sheet. That will fix that. You’re going to be a blonde with fairly long hair. He wanted to give you the option to cut it to whatever length you’d like.”

  I took the runes, examined them, and activated them in the correct order. My scalp itched, but within five minutes, I’d gone from mostly bald to having waist-length hair. Muttering curses over the new problem of how to style my hair, I stared into the mirror. “Now what?”

  “Leave it. You’re not there because of your hair, and if anyone has a problem with how you look, I’ll become their problem and teach them why it’s none of their business.” Jonas narrowed his eyes and looked me over. “I’m going to have a great deal of fun with that hair on my pillow tonight, however.”

  “If that’s a lie, you will pay for a long time, Jonas.”

  “It better not be a lie, because I’ll suffer, too. I’m too beautiful to suffer, Sandra.”

  Despite my growing worry over Lucifer’s mood, I laughed. “I’m probably in line to be punished. I confessed I’d burned his house down.”

  “And I missed it?”

  “He seemed rather miffed at himself he hadn’t considered me to be a suspect.”

  “You just look so innocent, Sandra. And you were until I got my hands on you.”

  “Well, I’m guilty as hell, and now he knows it. I’m doomed.”

  Jonas chuckled and left the bathroom so I could finish getting ready. “If Lucifer doesn’t punish you, I will, so don’t worry about it.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Jonas. It’s not a punishment if I like it.”

  The incubus snickered.

  Against my better judgement, I wore a tight pencil skirt, a pale blouse, and a jacket along with a pair of heels. The jacket hid my healing cuts, and the rest of the outfit convinced me I had some hope in hell of looking professional once I earned my JD and could pursue cases in court. The skirt’s length, scandalous in my opinion, kept my bed buddy’s attention—and encouraged him to follow me around for a better view.

  “You’re something else, Jonas.” It amused me our arrangement had somehow involved him being shoved into my company, something my virus found to her liking. I enjoyed it, too.

  The incubus had gotten under my skin, and I wasn’t sure what I thought about that.

  “I should have encouraged you to wear slacks. The Chicago vampires team up with sex demons, and they’re all going to want to experience you in that outfit. I don’t share.” Unlike humans, incubi could purr, and Jonas announced his general contentedness with the situation with a deep rumble. “I’m going to have to protect your innocence.”

  “I don’t think that word means what you think it means, Jonas.”

  “Which word? Protect?”

  “Innocence.”

  “You’re plenty innocent.”

  “Sure, once upon a time, I may have been innocent. That was before you got your filthy hands on me,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Is this really hell?” Hell had really nice, elegant decor, and I’d seen several paintings on the ceiling I wanted to spend many hours admiring. “This isn’t giving me the lava field and hellfire vibe.”

  “Lucifer typically keeps the lava fields and hellfire outside, as he is, in his words, spoiled and requires his luxuries.”

  “I am,” the Devil announced behind me.

  Howling curses, I spun around to glare at the bastard. “Will you stop doing that?”

  “No. I refuse. I see you listened to my darling’s ultimatum about getting out of bed. In a way, I’m disappointed.” Lucifer closed the distance between us and took hold of a lock of my hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. “If you want it styled, talk to Darlene. She loves cutting hair, and she’s quite good at it. She can also do those fancy hairstyles women often like.”

  Jonas sighed.

  The Devil smirked. “Don’t get cranky, Jonas. Your sister would sink her claws into my ass after she was done with yours if I even thought about flirting with your woman. You’ll need to behave. I know Ernesto keeps incubi and succubi around, but they never bother bonded pairs, so it’ll be fine. Considering the circumstances, they won’t even test you. Now, some of the succubi might cuddle up to your woman, but that’s what they do.”

  “Amy’s going to be there, isn’t she?”

  “Probably. Sandra, Jonas does have a history with Amy, a succubus associated with Ernesto’s brood, so expect her to be friendly with him. She’s not going to try anything with him, but that one doesn’t quit displaying gratitude for at least a thousand years.”

  “Was she one of his therapy jobs?” I asked.

  Lucifer nodded. “Shortly after his conversion, she had a bad run; she’d been stolen from Ernesto, and I helped rescue her. She needed a few weeks with Jonas to recover, but after she wasn’t at risk of hurting somebody, she went back home.”

  Heaving another sigh, Jonas bowed his head. “She’s going to hug me every damned minute we’re there.”

  “She will, and you’ll tolerate it, as will Sandra. I’ll take care of establishing you’re taken, so she’ll behave. Anyway, this meeting is going to be a problem. He has a long list of missing people who vanished the same time as his vampire we recovered from the lab. One of the vampires is his brother. His brother is still alive; he’s part of the Saven brood, so Ernesto would know, but he’s worried—and rightfully so. We’re going to spend our wait before the meeting making a game plan. Sandra, I’m going to need you to take notes and try to make a sensible game plan. Jonas, I want you to play the villain and try to figure out what they’re going to do. I might be the Devil, but this goes against my nature.”

  “Where it doesn’t go against mine,” the incubus said, his tone subdued.

  “Precisely. Sandra, I want you to make suggestions, too. You’re obviously skilled at planning illegal activities, so if you can think outside your ethics box, maybe you can think of something we’ll miss.”

  “Burn down a house once, and suddenly I’m a criminal mastermind!”

  “Wait, you burned the house down?” Darlene asked, once again from behind me.

  “Why do you teleporting bastards come up behind me?” Before I could spin, Jonas caught me in his arms and pulled me to him. He even manifested his wings, and I questioned the magic that kept his suit intact. Much like some vampire from a movie, he covered me with his wings.

  The Devil chuckled, reached over, and ruffled Jonas’s hair. “Sandra, he’s wearing one of my suits, which has several tricks sewn into the hem to account for shapeshifting and wings. He’s just being protective, and he knows his sister won’t damage his wings on purpose. Darlene, she absolutely did burn the house down, and you’re going to have to break your brother. He absolutely must marry this woman. Otherwise,
we’re adopting her.”

  “We can adopt her and he can marry her. This is not an either or situation,” Darlene said. Like me, she’d gone the business apparel route, and she’d hidden her wings and most of her fur, although her ears and tail remained. “What did you do to upset Sandra enough she burned our house down?”

  “She got a show of my forms through the shroud at the courthouse, and then the bickering got her punted to doing practice at being an attorney. One of her mentors was trying to sink her because he doesn’t like women. She was stressed, and she has too good of a nature to hurt anyone. As I’m the Devil, I was a safe target. I mean, it’s not really an act of evil if she’s targeting me. And yes, I verified she deliberately made sure your fish were safe.”

  “I’m adopting you,” Darlene informed me. “Jonas, you’re marrying her. That’s final. And you’re off the hook for the house, because that’s a damned good reason to take a few swipes at Lucy, in my not-so-humble opinion.”

  “Darlene,” Jonas complained.

  “What? The instant you thought I was going to sink my claws into your woman, you whipped your wings out and sheltered her. You’re a goner. She’s infected, so she’s a goner, too. It’s inevitable. Go ahead and fight it. Claim you’re just bed buddies. I’ll be there, planning your wedding and waiting for you to accept I’m right.”

  Jonas bowed his head, and his breath tickled my scalp. “I can purge the virus at any time, Darlene.”

  “And you wouldn’t hurt her like that without a damned good reason. Now, if you got caught by this operation and you thought purging the virus would protect her, you’d absolutely purge the virus, and the instant you got loose, or your self-rescuing princess rescues you, you’d follow her around begging for forgiveness.”

  While my virus had been vocal about some elements of life, especially when it came to Jonas, she stilled at Darlene’s words. “You have my virus’s attention.”

  “See? Her virus is as smart as she is. You’re an asshole, but you’re not that much of an asshole, Jonas. Sandra, do whatever you want to my brother, just leave him alive when you’re done with him.”

  I gaped at the succubus. “Just leave him alive? Shouldn’t the bar be higher than that?”

  “Hell no. He’s an annoying jackass. Now, playtime is over. We have some vampires to save and animal abusers to eviscerate. And breakfast. We can’t discuss eviscerations on empty stomachs.”

  “I was going to teleport us away to somewhere safer, but Lucifer is truly a being of evil,” Jonas muttered.

  The Devil chuckled, wrapped his arm around Jonas’s neck, and tugged until the incubus released me. “I truly am. Just be glad I’m interested in your happiness rather than your misery.”

  Darlene took hold of my arm and dragged me down the hall. “Don’t mind them. Lucy adores Jonas, and Jonas is too shy to admit he adores Lucy. You’ll get used to it. Just look on the bright side. When Lucy is like this, it never ends well for those who have stirred his ire. Those animal abusing assholes will pay.”

  That was a cause I could get behind. Rather than continue being dragged, I linked my arm with Darlene and matched her stride. “Yes, they will.”

  Dear Reader,

  * * *

  I hope you enjoyed the first book of the Magically Hellish Comedy (with a body count) trilogy. Sandra and friends will be back in 2022 with the continuation of their adventure. I spun this trilogy off from the main series for many reasons, but mostly because I wanted to take the Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) series in a slightly different direction than where Sandra’s story leads.

  Speaking of spinoffs, after the Magically Hellish Comedy (with a body count) trilogy finishes, the next spinoff series will be the Otterly Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) series, which will begin with What an Otter Mess.

  I hope you’re as excited for these stories as I am.

  The next Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) novel is Plaidypus, which releases in December of 2021.

  ~R.J.

  About R.J. Blain

  Want to hear from the author when a new book releases? You can sign up at her website (thesneakykittycritic.com). Please note this newsletter is operated by the Furred & Frond Management. Expect to be sassed by a cat. (With guest features of other animals, including dogs.)

  * * *

  A complete list of books written by RJ and her various pen names is available at https://www.thesneakykittycritic.com/complete-list-of-books-by-year-of-publication/

  * * *

  RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.

  * * *

  When she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e painter.

  * * *

  In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.

  * * *

  RJ also writes as Susan Copperfield and Bernadette Franklin. Visit RJ and her pets (the Management) at thesneakykittycritic.com.

  Follow RJ & her alter egos on Bookbub:

  RJ Blain

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  Bernadette Franklin

  From Outfoxed

  Outfoxed

  The Fox Witch | Book One

  By R.J. Blain

  * * *

  From Chapter One…

  Friday, May 1, 2043.

  Tulsa, Oklahoma.

  The Alley.

  * * *

  I’d been in the Alley long enough to understand only one thing mattered when faced with yet another twister: survival. The swarm of them headed for Tulsa roared, warning all of their impending arrival. The incessant crash of thunder accompanied the lightning, which struck with such frequency the dark clouds glowed white. I decided to stop counting after five funnels; one, five, ten—it didn’t matter how many of them snaked down from the sky. If one of them got a hold of me, I’d just be another corpse strewn over the Alley. A day didn’t go by when I didn’t cross a new skeleton in the outskirts.

  Death was a way of life outside of the safety of Inner Tulsa.

  Another twister joined the party, bringing a cascade of hail with it.

  Great. Just great. What was one more? Hadn’t Mother Nature figured out she didn’t need to fling everything she had at Tulsa? A single tornado would’ve done the job just fine.

  A few minutes too late to do me any good, the lightning-lit clouds turned a putrid shade of green, a promise that Mother Nature wasn’t screwing around this time. Green meant go, and if I’d had any sense in my head at all, I wouldn’t have left shelter at sunrise; I would’ve stayed in hiding until right before work. Everything would’ve been different if I’d just slept in rather than explore the ruins of Tulsa’s outskirts for salvage.

  If I hadn’t been looking for salvage, I wouldn’t have been spotted by the tall, dark, and handsome hot on my heels and determined to ruin my day if he caught up with me.

  The swarm would cause me enough problems, but if the bounty hunter caught me, I’d be in worse shape.

  Some choices in life were tough, and I hated myself for even contemplating taking my chances with the bounty hunter. Losing my freedom for profit could be reversed.

  Nothing could reverse death.

  I flattened my ears, and I lashed my tail back and forth, the rain whipping off it. While I was part fox, I’d adopted more feline tendencies than canine ones. And according to the tail and ears I couldn’t banish with any amount of magic, I was definitely a cat trapped in a partly canine body.

  I could shift into a full fox, a secret I held close to my chest. The instant anyone learned the truth, I’d go from a common annoyance to a desirable. Nobody cared about powerless hybrids.

  Everybody wanted full shapeshifters in their bloodlines, and I had enough trouble without every wealthy single man on the planet wanting to claim me as his wife.r />
  Since six twisters wasn’t enough, the churning clouds spawned two more, and with unerring accuracy, they surged towards the city in a wall of churning wind, rain, and hail.

  Tornado season had come, and it looked like it was going to open with a bang.

  I skidded around a corner of a destroyed home, a victim of a twister a few months back, before the sky had opted to give us a break for a change. Shacks had sprouted like persistent little weeds, but I expected none of them would survive the storm. I worried for their inhabitants, but if they had half a brain, they’d take shelter in a cellar.

  If they didn’t, they’d add to the bodies littering the dying suburban streets.

  While I had the advantage of knowledge, the bounty hunter had me beat everywhere else, and he snagged the back of my shirt, yanked hard enough to cut off my breath, and slammed me into the broken brick of the trashed house. “Are you insane?” he screamed over the wind. “You’re not supposed to run towards tornadoes, you little idiot!”

  I blinked, checked where I’d been running, and sure enough, Mother Nature had truly tired of my shit, opting to dump another handful of twisters directly into my path. When the twisters converged, probably where we were standing, it’d puree the neighborhood and leave matchsticks in their wake.

  Stuck between a rock, a hard place, and a bounty hunter, I had few options if I wanted to keep my head long enough to figure out if death beat being picked up by some fortune seeker. Fortunately, the sensible had left the area anticipating the weather to sour, leaving their storm cellars open for my use—our use, as I wouldn’t leave him behind despite wishing I could ditch him.