Hot Demon in the City (Latter Day Demons Book 1)

by Suttle, Connie

  * * *

  Lexsi

  Kory was already gone when I convinced my weary body to get out of bed at eight the following morning. Anita and Watson were also at work, while Mason was asleep for the day.

  That meant I had the house—and the kitchen—to myself. I wanted eggs the way my mother cooked them, so I went through the fridge to check for ingredients.

  People on Earth would call what I'd made Eggs Benedict, but it was a variation on the usual recipe that my mother perfected and I loved it. It was one of the first things she'd taught me to make.

  A part of me liked the silence of an empty house. Another part missed the conversation and the comfort of having others there. It's the way I grew up—the house was always occupied by many.

  At least Aunt Bree's house could hold all of us. I fantasized, then, about the raise I might get for taking the nighttime field anchor spot, and wondered if it would cover all the bills. I didn't lie to myself—more money would be very welcome and I wouldn't feel like such a freeloader if I could pay utilities, upkeep and any other expenses that came along.

  A new car would be nice, too.

  That's when I reminded myself that all this was happening as a result of Vann's death and Mike's firing. It felt wrong to profit from it. I also didn't want to toss karma into the mix for Vann firing Mike—that was between them and I didn't want to get into it.

  Sighing, I shoved my dishes into the washer and went to get a shower.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  I received a call from Anita as I waited at the airport terminal for my passenger. The call surprised me, although it shouldn't have.

  "I want to tell you this first," Anita said. "Lee almost handed Vann's job to Lexsi yesterday, because people in the area liked her so much. The Romes have taken matters into their own hands and are sending Hannah Tilton from LA to take Vann's place. I don't think this looks good for Lexsi—Hannah doesn't treat her female coworkers very well, especially if they're pretty. If Lexsi ends up as her assistant," Anita left the sentence hanging.

  "I get it," I said. "Fuck."

  "I said the same thing. Look, I have to get back to work—I just processed Hannah's paperwork, so it's a done deal."

  "Got it," I said. "Oh, shit." I watched as Hannah Tilton and two young, male assistants walked out of the airport. "Tilton's the one I'm picking up at the airport."

  "Lucky you," Anita said and ended the call.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  I could tell something was wrong when I walked toward my cubicle. At least three knots of people, consisting of production assistants, researchers and news assistants were whispering together until I appeared.

  Lee poked his head out of an office down the hall. "Silver, I need to see you," he said. He didn't sound happy. "We have to view the footage of the rough cut of Vann's memorial video, too," he added.

  "On my way," I said, tossing my jacket and purse onto the desk before heading in his direction.

  "Sit down," Lee pointed me to one of two guest chairs inside his office. He shut the door, leaving us alone. Whatever this was, it had been the subject of conversation before I'd arrived at work.

  "I spoke out of turn yesterday," Lee began. "The Romes pointed out that you're still a rookie and haven't earned a reporter spot, yet. They've sent Hannah Tilton from our sister station in LA to take Vann's place. She'll be your new boss."

  "I understand," I said, while inwardly, my new hopes crumbled. I did understand, and had allowed my own wishes to get in the way of good sense. The way he'd said Hannah's name troubled me, though. Something was wrong and he wasn't telling me.

  While I pondered Lee's announcement, his phone rang. "She's here," he said. "Come on, we're going to watch the rough draft of the memorial video, so she can take notes and make suggestions. I'll introduce you afterward."

  Dutifully I followed Lee toward the screening room at the back of the station. Editors and directors would be there, to make suggestions for the final product before it aired the following evening.

  I assumed that Hannah would narrate, since she was well known throughout the news community. After all, who was left to do the honors? I'd been slapped down; at least that's how I felt. Yes, my reaction wasn't rational, but emotions rarely are.

  I didn't get the opportunity to have Lee introduce us; Hannah waited at the screening room door, a double latte in her hand and looking so shiny and well-groomed she could have been peeled off a magazine cover.

  "Well, little assistant bitch," she handed her half-empty cup to me, "warm that up and get it back to me before the footage rolls."

  I ran. Not just from her, but from what they'd done to me.

  Lee knew.

  Hell, the entire office knew, and nobody thought to warn me.

  I made it back to the screening room with barely two seconds to spare. I ended up taking a seat at the back of the small theater, too. Not just because I didn't want to sit anywhere near Hannah Tilton, but both chairs around her were taken up with young male assistants she'd brought with her from LA.

  Throughout the video, I fumed.

  Until the last two minutes.

  That's when the photograph was shown of Vann at the Rome's anniversary party. Yes, someone said he was friends with the Romes. That wasn't what drew my attention. There Vann was, standing between the Romes, his arm around Laurel Rome's shoulders.

  No—that wasn't it. I leaned forward. Yes. There it was. The unmistakable, glittery fringe of Donna Raven's designer jacket.

  Donna stood with her back to Vann and the Romes, but I recognized her outfit from Gerta Britt's security recording.

  The Ravens had gone to the Rome party, but hadn't been on the guest list.

  Not only did I now have the boss from hell, I also had a deepening mystery on my hands.

  Chapter 6

  Lexsi

  My first day in hell consisted of getting coffee for Ms. Horrible, followed by doing research for Ms. Horrible, making phone calls for Ms. Horrible and issuing invitations for a dinner party she was planning for the weekend.

  If I'd thought Vann the worst, it was only because I hadn't met Hannah the Horrible, yet.

  Perhaps the worst part of my day was when she ordered me to find the name of the company driver who'd picked her up at the airport—she wanted him at her party, too, and offered to rent his tux if he didn't have one.

  Only one driver fit the description she'd given me—Kory. I wrote his name down for her and said I'd take care of the invitation. I watched as she tapped a red, manicured nail on Kory's name.

  "Kory Wilson. Do you know if he has an education? What his work background is?"

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Tilton, I don't," I replied while refusing to grit my teeth. "I believe HR may be able to help with that."

  I walked away before she could ask me to call HR for her. Kory was about to be next on her list of the most fuckable men she'd met that she hadn't yet fucked, and I wanted no part of that.

  Half her words were lies, too, but I also didn't want to get into that. If Aunt Bree hadn't been specific about the job I had to take, I'd have turned in my notice and went to work peeling potatoes at a restaurant somewhere.

  I had plenty of experience at that sort of thing—in between my schooling, I'd worked with Mom and Uncle Fes at their restaurants in Targis. I'd been paid, too, for the hours I'd worked.

  It was worth it just to see the working kitchens in the two best restaurants on the planet of Tulgalan. I already knew how to cook pretty well before I was allowed into either kitchen, and I'd learned even more working with my family.

  I was a decent cook, even if I were still a rookie journalist.

  I kept telling myself that on the drive home in the TinyCar; that Hannah the Horrible probably couldn't boil an egg without ruining it.

  For the first time, too, I missed my family. Mom, Dad, Gran, my uncles and aunts. Shoving those thoughts away, I reminded myself of why I'd left them behind—an arranged marriage with
a man I'd never met.

  If this were the universe's way of forcing me to see the unvarnished real worlds, then perhaps I deserved it, Hannah the Horrible and all.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  Hannah wants you at her dinner party this weekend, Lexsi's text said, and included the time and address. She wants to rent a tux for you, and I doubt she wants you to park cars for guests.

  Do I detect a note of jealousy? I texted back.

  You detect nothing except the performance of my duties, she snipped. Ms. Tilton is expecting an RSVP. The sooner you reply, the sooner she gets off my back about it.

  Then I'll send a gracious and respectful NO, I tapped. Ms. Tilton doesn't belong in my universe.

  Mine, either, she responded. Yet here we are.

  I recognized the truth behind her statement. Neither of us belonged on Earth in the past and she'd let that knowledge slip through, never thinking I'd understand exactly what she meant.

  Ms. Tilton was not only Lexsi's new boss, but she wanted to lay claim to me, too. I wanted no part of her diva attitude. Hannah's kind of pretty came with a streak of meanness that left broken souls and destroyed lives in its wake. I'd read that in her when she ordered her two male assistants around as if they were worthless slaves.

  From an outside point of view, she was the spider luring her prey into a web they couldn't escape—their future in the business ensured it.

  She wants you in that web with her, I reminded myself. The prospect was grim; accept her invitation and be trapped, refuse and wait for her to find fault so I'd be fired or relocated.

  That's how her kind worked. I'd seen it before—in men and women. All of them power hungry and deep down, somewhat insecure. Most of them I'd met during my six-hundred-year stint in Kifirin's military.

  I'd only met a handful since my arrival on Earth. Hannah Tilton wasn't the worst of the lot—I reserved that slot for Granger and his ilk—the vamp who killed or attempted to kill anyone he didn't like. As far as I knew, Hannah had only managed to make enemies of just about everyone, because she treated them like shit.

  Claudia—the jury was still out on her, but recent activity didn't paint her in a flattering light. I wondered that Watson was still willing to work for her. He didn't seem the type to put up with her sort of bullshit.

  What worried me most about Hannah was the trouble she could cause Lexsi and me. I was slowly working my way into Lexsi's life, yet Hannah threatened to sever that tenuous bond.

  I wasn't much on parties, either, and hoped I wouldn't be forced to go to Hannah's. That would only lead to trouble. Tapping Hannah's number into my phone, I sent her a text, explaining that Lexsi had delivered my invitation, but that I'd already made plans for the weekend.

  I hoped it would stave off the inevitable; she'd see me as an elusive conquest, which could serve to make me a bigger target.

  One way or another, I would end up regretting any association with the woman.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  My cell phone rang the second I walked in the house after the long drive home. Farin was on the other end of the conversation. "Rick is staying with me," she said.

  "That sounds good—the vamps found the other place," I acknowledged while setting my purse on the kitchen counter.

  "He still goes back there to pick up his clothes and stuff, but that's not really what I called about," she said. "Tiburon texted me—he invited me to dinner."

  "So?" I didn't want to tell Farin that I should be the last person to offer dating advice; I didn't have much experience in that area. "Do you like him?" I added.

  "Yeah. I really like him," she confided. "I just don't want to be all starry-eyed and forget to eat, or worse, drop food on my clothes or something."

  "I don't think he'll care if any of that stuff happens," I said. "I think he likes you, too."

  "I just don't want to mess this up," she wailed.

  "You won't. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be," I attempted to calm her down. She'd called me, needing help, when I wanted nothing more than a friend I could confide in concerning Hannah the Horrible and the awful, looming future I faced as her least-appreciated assistant.

  "When is the date?" I asked, attempting to hide the sudden weariness that enveloped me.

  "Friday night."

  "That's tomorrow," I pointed out.

  "What should I wear?" She was back to wailing.

  "Wear pink—you look awesome in that sweater set."

  "I hope he likes pink," she sniffed.

  "Farin, it won't matter how you're dressed. He'll be thinking that he's out with the sexiest weather girl ever, the whole time you're together. Trust me."

  "I hope you're right."

  Why are Earth women so insecure about everything? I wondered, as Farin went on about the jewelry she might wear, and the shoes that would go with her outfit. Perhaps it was the culture they'd been raised in, I surmised as I listened and responded now and then with what I hoped was useful advice.

  "You'll be great, I promise," I told her when she wound down. "Stop worrying, laugh when he says something funny and enjoy the company."

  "I'll let you know how it goes," she promised. "See ya," she ended the call.

  I was on my way to the bedroom when my cell phone rang again. Anita, this time.

  "You could send mindspeech," I reminded her. Yes, I sounded grumpy. "Sorry," I apologized. "I had the day from hell," I explained.

  "No doubt," her words were dry. "Nobody in the company likes Hannah, except the Romes. They liked Vann better, but Hannah is number two on their list."

  "I need to talk to you sometime—in private," I muttered. "No phone conversations, either."

  "You got something?" She perked right up.

  "Maybe, but it doesn't make much sense."

  "All right. How about tomorrow after work? I'll come by your place and bring a bottle of something with me."

  "Sounds great. Hannah wants her claws in Kory already," I added.

  "That's not what's bothering you so much?"

  "I just don't want her forcing him into something he doesn't want," I sputtered.

  "Riiight."

  "Look, save it for tomorrow, I want to lie down and get rid of my Hannah headache."

  "I doubt you're the only one with that particular problem tonight," Anita said. "I hear she's already made an enemy of Lee, and he can get along with anybody. Looks like he's looking for another job already."

  "How do you know that?" I asked.

  "Somebody called for references this afternoon."

  "You're kidding? Who called?"

  "Same station that hired Mike, that's who. It won't matter—just about anybody would take Lee if he applied with them. He has great experience and a reputation for working with even the worst in egotistical anchors."

  "Wow. I never thought about that, but Vann wasn't easy to work with, I know that much."

  "Maybe it's time Lee thought of himself, then. I wouldn't work with Hannah if I had a choice. Oops—sorry."

  "Yeah. Rub it in," I mumbled. "It's probably a matter of time before she gets me fired."

  "She's the jealous type," Anita said. "So she doesn't want to work with any woman who can put her to shame in the looks department. Plus, you're young. She's getting crow's feet. That pisses her off, too."

  "Thanks for eliminating my job before she does," I snapped. "My life is complicated enough already, you know."

  "I'm just giving you the real reasons she'll want to get rid of you—no matter what the paperwork says at the end."

  "You've looked into her records, haven't you?" I accused.

  "Yep. She's fired every female assistant she ever had. I'm adding her to my list of investigations into Rome hiring practices. No woman has ever lasted more than three months, working with Hannah."

  "Great. More good news," I sighed.

  "I think you should apply for a job elsewhere, especially if Lee gets the job he applied for, hint-hint."

  "
Right. That's great in theory, but not so great in practice," I said. I couldn't tell Anita why I was working for Rome Enterprises to begin with—it would only raise questions about relatives I couldn't explain or produce on demand.

  "I guess the clock's ticking, then," I said.

  "It's always better to turn in a notice than wait to be fired; that way you won't have to put that on your next job application."

  While I pondered that bit of advice, it occurred to me that perhaps this was Aunt Bree's way of telling me I shouldn't have run away in the first place. It was diabolical in its simplicity; force me into a situation where I couldn't meet the terms of our agreement, and I'd be homeward bound for a wedding I didn't want.

  "I'm going to be the best female assistant Hannah the Horrible has ever had," I announced.

  "What?" Anita's voice betrayed her shock.

  "Just what I said. She won't be able to get rid of me because I'll be that good."

  "On your head be it," Anita huffed. "She'll make you wish you were dead; believe me."

  "Oh, that may already be," I retorted. "I just intend to be the perfect assistant when that inevitability arrives."

  "Then stay two steps ahead of her," Anita responded. "Read her mind and anticipate."

  "I'll see what I can do," I said.

  "Three months, tops," Anita reminded me.

  "Yeah."

  * * *

  Kordevik

  "That's simply not acceptable," Hannah informed me. "Plans can be changed—this is important for your future career," she added.

  How the hell was I to know she wouldn't take no for an answer? And the veiled threat at the end?

  Genius. On her part, at least. It didn't bode well for me in the least. She was telling me that my future as a Rome Enterprises employee depended on my showing up at her party on Saturday night.

  Fuck her, and not in any traditional sense.

  "I'm engaged," I blurted.

  "What? I have no record of that," she purred.

  "I am," I insisted.

  Well, I had been, at least. I still considered myself engaged, no matter what Lexsi thought.

  "To whom? Bring her with you. I'll make an exception this time."