The doorbell rang, startling them both.
“I’ll get it,” she said, grateful for the reprieve, and opened the door.
Thomas stood there. He’d taken the time to dry off, at least, she noticed. He was in a different dark suit, and his face was handsome… and enigmatic.
He doesn’t look pissed. That was promising. Then she remembered—she was pissed at him.
Of course, in light of recent events, could she really afford to be?
“Kate,” Thomas said. “We need to talk.”
…
Thomas looked over at an older man—Kate’s father, he assumed. Maggie’s quick check with her temporary agency had provided the address, but they couldn’t have known she was living with her parents. It also surprised him that her father was wearing a service revolver in an unsnapped shoulder holster, and that he was giving Thomas the hairy eyeball.
Damn it. How much had Kate told him? And how much damage control was he going to need to do?
“Kate? Everything all right?” the older man said, his eyes cold and flat, like he was stepping into an interrogation room.
Kate’s own gaze never wavered; she was staring at Thomas like she could somehow kill him with her glare.
“It’s fine, Dad. I’ll be right back.” She stepped out, pointedly closing the door between her father and them, and nodded toward Thomas’s limo. Her voice dropped to a hiss. “Start walking. I don’t want to have this conversation here.”
Thomas noticed one of the wooden blinds opening. Her father was going to be watching, protective. Well, Thomas wasn’t here to abduct Kate or threaten her.
Hell, all he was doing here was hiring her. No crime in that.
“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” Thomas said smoothly. “I could have handled all that better.”
“You mean you could have come up with a better cover story if you’d realized that you might need one.”
That was true enough. “Let me explain.”
“How, exactly, are you planning on explaining the starvation and beating of illegally smuggled immigrants?” She stared at him, her expression a war between anger and disgust.
“First, they’re really not illegal immigrants,” he said. Which was also true. They weren’t even human, and he had documentation that allowed them onto this plane. Technically legal, from what he understood. “Second, I, ah, contracted their work because the people who can read this language are very, very rare. I needed them for their expertise.”
“That’s bullshit.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I spoke with them,” she snapped. “You don’t need someone who can read… whatever the hell language that is. You just need to find one specific word. A simple image recognition program could handle that more quickly and more efficiently.”
“That’s right,” he agreed. Damn, the woman hadn’t been there a week, and she’d found out all that? From demons?
What were they doing down there, braiding each other’s hair?
“So why didn’t you just do that?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you do what I did?”
Because the programmers keep getting possessed. Which brought him back around to why he was here in the first place. She wasn’t possessed, psychotic, or even ill, after a few days. She was his best and only candidate. “It’s top secret. I couldn’t trust a programmer with this image.”
“Why is it top secret?”
He let out a brusque laugh. “Perhaps you don’t understand what ‘top secret’ means.”
“I’m saying there’s no possible way I can make any sense of it. It’s just a cipher, something encrypted. I was assuming that’s the whole point of the language—to keep stuff secret.”
Thomas took a step back, evaluating her. Despite the fact that she looked like a cute, irritated librarian, there was real intelligence gleaming in her eyes. She’d survived for four days with some of the most brutal beings he’d ever encountered—and all she had to show for it was one popped seam. And now, despite living at home with her parents, she was still standing toe to toe with him, not backing down—something that most billionaire businessmen had a hard time managing.
I like this girl, he thought. She was smart, strong. A powerful combination. Sexy, too, he realized.
He probably shouldn’t focus on that aspect.
Thomas cleared his throat. “I’d like you to come back to work.”
Now she blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You were right. There was an easier way, and you found it,” he said, shifting his voice to the gentle, aw-shucks drawl that had served him surprisingly well in so many business deals. “It’s too late to keep you from knowing about the, er, code—and as you say, you can’t figure it out anyway. So let’s say I trust you by default.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch. At least, not for you,” he said. “I’m stuck in a predicament because you wound up going where you weren’t supposed to—”
“Where I was assigned,” she interrupted. “Maggie sent me there.”
Thomas paused, then growled softly. “Of course she did.” He felt a headache starting to brew behind his eyes. “I’ll have a talk with her. And I can promise that if you take the job, you won’t be reporting to her.”
Kate tilted her head, surveying him suspiciously. “Why should I?”
Now it was his turn to cross his arms. “Last we talked, you’re the one who needed the paycheck.”
He watched as her cream-pale cheeks flushed a dark rose. Her jerky shrug confirmed what he’d thought—she needed the money. “I can always get another assignment.”
“True,” he said, feeling more confident. “But can they match what I’d be willing to pay?”
He then named a number, and was gratified to see her emerald eyes go wide. “Holy crap,” she muttered. “For that much, am I supposed to kill somebody, too?”
She was possibly the least professional person he’d ever worked with, but damned if she didn’t make him chuckle. “No. But I’m going to need you to work with all those documents by yourself. There’s nobody else I can trust with them, and right now, you’re the only one who can use the scanner.”
She frowned again, absently pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose in a ridiculously cute offhand gesture. “You trust the guys,” she pointed out. “They’re already working with the documents. Why don’t you have them scan?”
How to explain the limited mental capacity of an Ammonite demon? “That’s not really in their skill set,” he hedged.
“Don’t worry. I’ll train them.” She grimaced at him. “And don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” he repeated, baffled.
“That ‘aw, how cute’ patronizing smile. Trust me, I’m a good trainer,” she said, even as a flash of doubt crossed her face. “Besides, even if I work twenty-four-seven, it will take forever. You get fifty guys on those scanners, you’ll have it done in a few weeks.”
He crossed his arms. She did have a point—if it worked. “All right. I’ll give you three days to test it,” he relented.
She took a deep breath—then he saw her glance back toward the house. The blinds shifted a little. She bit her full lower lip, an action that momentarily side-tracked him. She had a nice mouth, he noticed.
Why am I noticing that?
Why do I keep noticing her?
She wasn’t all that beautiful. But there was something about her that clicked with him, that made him feel more focused. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad one.
Then her chin went up, and her eyes gleamed. “Add fifteen percent to that,” she said, “and maybe I’ll consider it.”
Now his eyes widened. “Isn’t that a little much for a glorified I.T. training position?” he drawled.
“You’re the one who needs me, pal,” she said, echoing him.
More true than she knew. “Okay,” he said. “But I’ll probably want you to do some other stuff, too. P
ersonally. For me.”
Her eyes went round as dinner plates, and that sexy mouth of hers fell open in shock.
“Administrative stuff,” he amended quickly, then wondered if the sudden heat in his face meant he was turning red. “You know. Filing and, er, typing or something.”
“Oh. No problem.” She took a deep breath. “There’s one other thing…”
“You’re one hell of a negotiator. You want a company credit card, too? Maybe you want the limo service to take you to work?”
“The guys,” she said, and her jaw set stubbornly. She even took a step closer to him, close enough that he could smell the light notes of perfume she was wearing. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “If I work with them, that means they get treated with decency. That means rest breaks, meals, and absolutely no physical abuse.”
He stared at her, evaluating her. Admiring her.
“This is a deal-breaker, Thomas. I’m not working anywhere that mistreats people like that.”
He felt his chest warm, just a little. Al was probably going to shit kittens—but he wanted her. No, he needed her.
Of course this would be her deal-breaker. It made him happy.
And ashamed.
“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.
Her hand was surprisingly small in his, her grip surprisingly firm.
“Deal,” she said, then laughed, a rueful sound. “Feels like I’m making a deal with the devil.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dry. “Those need contracts signed in blood.”
And God, didn’t he know that one.
Chapter Eight
What would you do for a paycheck, huh?
Kate had barely slept the night before. She told herself that at least this way, she was ensuring that the workers wouldn’t be mistreated. At least, they wouldn’t while she was there, watching… and that was assuming Thomas was a man of his word. Right now, she didn’t trust anyone, least of all the man who had come to her house in his limo, offering a deal she couldn’t refuse.
And who might still have me killed, right? One to grow on.
She was here because her parents needed the money. For the first time, they needed her to bail them out. She wasn’t going to hurt people or allow them to be hurt, but she wasn’t going to stand rigidly by her principles and let them lose the house, either.
Now more than ever, she wasn’t going to fuck it up.
When the elevator doors opened on the basement floor, Thomas was waiting for her. Unfortunately, he looked as handsome as ever, and her stomach traitorously did a little mambo.
She’d need to have a little sit-down with her hormones to discuss the finer points of things like ethics and humanity and anything beyond a yummy-looking torso.
To her surprise, Al was standing next to Thomas, scowling like an octogenarian peanut leaning on his bone-handled cane. “You’ve got some nerve, missy,” he said, by way of greeting.
“Good morning to you, too.” She refused to let him cow her. He’d gotten away with torturing the guys because no one would stand up to him. She figured he was like any other abuser—blaming the victim and doing whatever he could get away with.
Well, fuck that.
She was laden down with shopping bags. He ignored her as she put the stuff on a table, pointing a gnarled, pencil-thin finger at her instead.
“You think you can handle this crew? Do you have any idea what they’ve done? What they’re capable of?”
Kate felt her back go straight as a ruler. “I think they’re capable of a lot,” she said, with exaggerated cheer meant for maximum annoyance. “They’ll find your documents in no time!”
If Al’s scowl went any deeper, you would see it on the other side of his head. “Let’s just see how long you survive down here, girl.” His voice had an almost wolf-like growl.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Thomas said, pulling a folded document out of his breast pocket with a flourish.
“That reminds you?” Kate asked, bewildered.
Thomas smiled. Damn his nice smile. He held out the document and a pen. “Paperwork. You’re not a temp anymore—you’ll be my employee.”
She glanced at Al, then back at Thomas.
“Answering directly to me,” Thomas added. She could hear Al’s teeth grinding like the gears on a truck, and she suppressed her own grin of relief. Working for Al would suck.
She glanced over the paperwork. “I don’t have to sign in blood, right?”
“You told her?” Al said. “Well, I doubt her soul’s worth much, but every bit helps, I suppose.”
“Not this time,” Thomas said, frowning at Al.
“Very funny,” Kate muttered, signing.
Al stepped up to her. He smelled like tobacco, she noticed, and cedar. And dust.
“You’re not going to get anywhere,” he said. “This lot? Incorrigible. They’ll see how soft you are, and they’ll use you. Without the lash, they won’t do anything. They’re lazy, they’re conniving, and they’ll do whatever they can to screw you over.”
“You can’t go around hitting people to get them to work!” Kate felt like shaking the old man. “We’re not building the pyramids here! What’s wrong with you?”
His eyes widened. “They’re not exactly people.”
Thomas made a warning noise. They both ignored him.
Kate stepped up to the old man—and noticed she was about three inches taller. “They’re people to me. If they don’t get treated humanely, then I walk. That was the deal.”
“You’re challenging me, girl?” Al’s onyx eyes gleamed; she couldn’t tell if he was pissed or thrilled. “Because I know exactly how to handle women, and other subordinate creatures who don’t know their place.”
“You hit me, old man,” she said, in a low voice, “and you’d better—”
“All right, you two, that’s enough,” Thomas said, stepping between them. “Al, that was the arrangement. You’ll be here as facilitator, but Kate’s in charge of the… guys for right now. She’s going to train them on how to use the scanner.”
Kate nodded, feeling a little boost of triumph as Al glowered—and backed down.
“But Kate,” Thomas said, “if the guys give you a hard time, or don’t do the work—if you don’t have the twelve names in one month—then we’re going to have to come up with a different solution.”
She glanced around. There were mountains of paperwork. As in the warehouse scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark scale. The stuff seemed endless.
Al was the one grinning triumphantly now. She could only imagine what the “different solution” would be if she failed.
You should get out of here, her conscience murmured.
This place is dangerous, her subconscious warned.
But as she was looking at the paperwork, she saw that the guys were looking at her, too. Some with puzzlement, some with gloating—but some with a tentative, almost curious shine of hope in their eyes. Best of all, it seemed like Dexter was gone.
She saw Slim, who nodded at her, smiling.
She straightened. “We’ll find your names,” she said to Thomas, but then addressed the group. “Right, guys?”
They looked at one another. “Yes?” Slim answered for them tentatively.
She sighed. “Okay. We’ll practice the teamwork,” she muttered to herself, then stepped in front of them.
Thomas stepped next to her, his arms crossed. “For the time being, Kate is going to be the one directing you. The Overseer is not.”
They definitely looked surprised at that one.
“She will teach you to use the machinery,” Thomas said. “And she’ll make sure that I get the results I need. She’s my employee,” he emphasized. “So I don’t want there to be any… incidents. Understood?”
Incidents? Kate thought, but then Thomas turned to her. “Care to address the troops?”
She cleared her throat. They were all staring at her, nervous, expectant. Some were even looking at her warily, like she’d pu
ll out a cattle prod and go to town.
“Well, let me start off by saying that there’s a new sheriff in town,” she said.
They stared blankly.
“Don’t know that one. Ah.” She felt her cheeks heat, but she plowed forward. “We need to find twelve names… Well, eleven now. Based on a special symbol,” she said, holding up the picture.
“We know that,” one of the guys said, his voice sulky. “Why do we need to use the machines?”
“It will be faster. More efficient, fewer mistakes. A lot less reading.”
Their expressions showed they were obviously unsure about this whole situation.
“Also, your schedule’s going to change a bit,” she said. “You’ll get rest breaks. You’ll have meals. And you won’t get beaten or physically punished.”
Now they looked gobsmacked.
“So… how do you think we will work?” a man asked. Unlike the first guy, he wasn’t being a smart-ass—he seemed genuinely stunned. You mean people actually work without being beaten? How does that happen?
“Oh, honey,” she murmured, then walked over to the shopping bags. “Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to…”
She held up a box of Ho Hos.
“The Incentive Plan.”
From that moment, she had them riveted. Within the next hour, she had them paying attention to her every word. By lunch—which Thomas provided—they were steadily trying to work their scanners, although she swore she saw one of them sniff it.
“First box of Ho Ho’s to the guy who meets his quota by dinner,” she said, and was gratified when they let out a ragged cheer. She decided that the Ho Hos were like gold, and so she went to ask Al if he could at least lock the suckers away—being in control of someone’s happiness seemed up his Evil Overlord alley.
Al was on the phone, she noticed, and he didn’t know she was there. “This is a farce,” he told whoever was on the other line. “But probably a short one.”
She felt her chin go up. Well, it wasn’t a surprise that he didn’t believe in her. It would be a surprise when she got the names without a single whiplash—surprise for you, asshole.
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