Temping is Hell

by Cathy Yardley

  “Well, I don’t expect her to last that long.”

  She’d heard that before, too, from nicer places than this. She grinned smugly.

  “If the workers don’t murder her,” he said, “I imagine exposure to the contracts will cause possession, if not insanity, in a matter of days, at that.”

  She froze.

  Wait, what?

  …

  Thomas was proud of himself for not going down to the basement to check on the progress until lunchtime. He figured it was natural to have some eagerness—the contracts they found would be the key to saving his ass and his soul, not necessarily in that order—and he was wary, as well. He’d found out about the two dead temps when he’d first arrived in Oakland, and their deaths preyed on him. He didn’t balk at the idea of death, or even killing, considering what he needed to do in the next year. But stupidity and careless, pointless deaths were unacceptable. They’d died because only he—and by extension, “his” people—were protected. Temps did not count. The employment contract Kate had signed would prevent the demons from killing her.

  At least, he hoped.

  He wasn’t sure if any other bodily harm was included in that, or if Al had conveniently left another “loophole.” Despite the surprisingly ironclad nature of these metaphysical contracts, there was always a loophole.

  Just like in the “real” world.

  He also wasn’t sure if Kate was in the throes of possession, like Pablo from I.T. had been. He dreaded the thought of seeing that ugly, misshapen process hitting Kate.

  So why are you risking her?

  He set his jaw, stepping out as the elevator doors opened on the sublevel, ignoring the slight but insistent nudges of his conscience. He was risking her because he had to. He needed the names. He needed to get free before Cyril took possession of his soul and his will.

  He’d protect her as best he could. With the amount of money he was paying her, and the bonuses he’d lavish on her, he felt certain he’d make it up to her. But for right now, risking her was a necessary evil.

  Sure. You keep telling yourself that.

  Yagi was there in the basement, waiting. Thomas had sent him to check on the progress several times, saying to only report if something had gone seriously wrong. While he trusted Yagi, he got the feeling Yagi’s definition of “seriously wrong” and his were probably grossly different.

  “Is she okay?” Thomas said without preamble. Then he scowled. Damned sneaky conscience.

  Yagi’s eyebrow shot up at the question. “She’s shockingly well.”

  Thomas stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “She got them to use the scanners. She drew pictures on a flip chart. She’s got stickers for those of them going through the paperwork correctly; she’s already distributed two boxes of… Ho Hos.” He made a sneer of disgust. “It’s like demon daycare.”

  “Woot! We have another winner!” Thomas heard Kate yell. He glanced over to see her on a table-top, her red hair pulled up in a jaunty ponytail, her face bright with excitement.

  The demons at her feet yelled “Woot!” in response.

  She presented a box of Ho Hos, and the demon who won was grinning like a five year old—while simultaneously fighting off other demons who were scrabbling for his prize.

  “Hey, now,” Kate said, snapping at them. Physically snapping her fingers at demons. “Fair’s fair. You can win your own box!”

  Thomas waited for the teeth to bare, the snarls to start. They might not be able to kill her, but they could sure as hell frighten her.

  But they didn’t.

  The damned things backed down. A couple of them with sheepish expressions.

  Thomas turned to Yagi. “Okay, what just happened there?”

  “I have never seen anything like it,” Yagi hissed. “And I survived the Oni Uprising of Forty-Five.”

  Thomas had no idea what that meant, but from the sounds of it, it wasn’t good. “Is it the sugar?” He made a mental note to stock up on Ho Hos.

  “No. I think it’s her.”

  “You positive?”

  “It’s like she has them in thrall, somehow.” Yagi nodded at Al, who was watching the proceedings, seething. “If she didn’t, your sour friend wouldn’t be quite so upset.”

  “Has she found any more signatories?”

  “Three since the first hour.”

  Thomas felt a punch of triumph. “No wonder Al’s pissed.” Considering the amount of time Thomas had wasted on Al’s suggestions, he was pretty pissed himself. “And she’s showing no signs of possession?”

  “None that I can see.”

  Thomas caught the edge in Yagi’s voice. “You don’t sound happy about that.”

  “She should be insane. She should be dead, Thomas. It’s unnatural.” Yagi paused meaningfully. “And it’s suspicious.”

  “Everything’s suspicious to you,” Thomas said, nonetheless feeling a little twinge of alarm skitter across the back of his neck. “In fact, that’s why I hired you. You get to be paranoid for me.”

  “I’m not joking,” Yagi said quietly. “The only reason I can think of for why she isn’t possessed as a result of contracts exposure is that she’s already possessed by someone else… Or that she’s already signed.”

  That stopped Thomas cold. “What do you mean, already signed?”

  “If she has already signed her soul over to someone, it’s not in play. Possession is not an option in that case,” Yagi explained. “It would be like renting out an apartment that’s already occupied.”

  Already signed. He could just imagine who would have signed her… and sent her. “How do we know for sure?”

  Yagi closed his eyes, going still as a stone. Then he glared at Kate.

  Kate chose that moment to look over. She winced at Yagi’s expression, turning away.

  Thomas held his breath.

  Yagi was still glaring. The demons around Kate started to fidget, squirming uncomfortably. One stood up, moving to the far side of the room.

  Kate sneaked another glance at Yagi. Then she frowned, sending Thomas a look. What’s up with him?

  If Yagi glared any harder, Thomas thought, his eyes would literally shoot flames.

  Kate stared back.

  Then slowly, deliberately, she crossed her eyes, sticking out her tongue.

  Yagi coughed, trying to cover a laugh. “All right. She’s not possessed.”

  “What, because she made a face at you?”

  “No,” Yagi said, his tone regaining its solemnity. “When you hired me, I mentioned that I have… let’s say a close relationship with oni—demons. I am powerful enough to sense and manipulate all but the most powerful of them. If she had been possessed, I would have been able to control her like a marionette.”

  “That’s how you exorcised Pablo,” Thomas remembered, then winced at the memory. “So you think she’s signed.”

  “That would be my guess, yes.”

  “I want confirmation,” Thomas said. “If Cyril sent her… Damn it. I need to know.”

  “I do have one way of confirming if she’s been signed or not.” Yagi reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a red envelope.

  “What’s that?” Thomas peered at the thing.

  “A scroll. It’s an ancient Asian form of magic,” Yagi said, pulling an ivory sheet of paper out of the envelope. “Think of it as a sensor, and a sort of booby trap. Get Kate to touch it—have her pick it up, say—and if she’s unsigned, nothing will happen to her.”

  Thomas started to reach for it, and Yagi yanked it back.

  “If anyone who has signed his soul touches it,” Yagi said apologetically, putting it back into his suit jacket, “it will kill him.”

  “Oh.” Thomas swallowed, tucking his hands under his folded arms. Close call. “So if she’s signed, and she touches it…”

  “You want to know for sure,” Yagi reminded him. “This will be proof positive.”

  Thomas looked at Kate. She was still sending irritated glan
ces at them, even as she patted a demon on the back. The demon looked startled, then sent her a slow, tentative smile.

  “Don’t forget to drink water,” she said. “And everybody gets a stretch break after two hours! Think ergonomics!”

  “What if Cyril didn’t sign her?” Thomas asked. “What if someone else did?”

  Yagi shrugged. “It’s not really that specific. But if we know she’s definitely signed her soul to someone, I have other spells that might help. Ones I can use on the body,” he clarified.

  The body. Thomas recoiled slightly.

  But who else would send a signed soul into his business? And even if it wasn’t Cyril—what other purpose would she have here?

  She might be cute. But he wasn’t fucking around here. He couldn’t afford to be blinded by her, and he couldn’t give Cyril any advantages.

  “Give me the envelope in something I can touch without killing myself,” Thomas said slowly. “I’ll make sure she gives it a go.”

  Yagi nodded with approval, and Thomas motioned to Kate. She walked over.

  “We’ve got four names,” she said, giving a sidelong look at Yagi. “It’s going great. We keep this up, we’ll have those twelve docs in no time.”

  “Yagi, can you give us a second?”

  Yagi nodded silently, then stalked off.

  “Okay, what the hell?” Kate murmured, pouring herself a paper cup of water from the nearby fountain. “What’s his problem?”

  “He’s just like that,” Thomas said.

  “Well, tell him if he keeps mean-mugging people in Oakland like that, he’s going to get his ass kicked,” she muttered, then took a long draw. “God, I’m parched. I feel like I’ve been trying to sell time-shares. It’s insane.”

  “It’s working,” Thomas said, with true approval. “I wanted to thank you. Also, I wanted to talk to you about some stuff I’ve been mulling over.”

  “Um, okay.” She looked at him expectantly.

  “Not here,” Thomas said. He could just imagine what would happen if she dropped dead in the middle of the demons. “I’d like you to stop by my office after work. Is that okay?”

  “Your office. Yeah, sure,” she said, nodding.

  He nodded back. “Really good job,” he added inanely.

  “And strangely, all without a whip.” Her tone was dry, almost analytic. Hell, she sounded like Yagi.

  “I didn’t peg you as an ‘I told you so’ kind of girl.”

  “Guess we both misjudged each other,” she said softly.

  He grimaced. “We all do what we have to do to get by, right?”

  “Better the devil you know,” she said, toasting him with the water. “Okay, my break’s over. I’ll see you after shift. Boss.”

  He nodded.

  Yeah, he’d see her.

  And then see, he thought regretfully, if she lives.

  Chapter Nine

  Thomas was still brooding in his office when Kate showed up. Yagi had given him the… whatever the hell it was, magic scroll or paper or whatever. It was tucked into an interoffice envelope that was currently sitting on his desk. The thing made him feel nervous, like he was sitting with dynamite sweating nitro.

  If I touch that thing, it’ll kill me.

  What was worse, if he died, he knew where he was headed, and had a small foretaste of just how painful that would be.

  And I could be sentencing Kate to exactly that.

  Thomas closed his eyes. He was up against the wall. He only had a year to do what he needed to, and if she had signed her soul, odds were good that she deserved exactly what she was getting.

  Just like you, huh?

  His eyes popped open when he heard a knock on his door. “Come in,” he rasped, then cleared his throat.

  Kate walked in, looking frazzled. Her wavy red hair had mostly escaped from the ponytail, and her glasses were slightly askew on her face. Her khaki skirt was smudged with dirt and her sweater looked like it had a coffee spill on it. Her eyes, those brilliant emerald eyes of hers, looked exhausted.

  “Found five today,” she said, nodding. “Things slowed down a little after lunch.”

  “Why? You let them have naps?”

  He didn’t know why he found it fascinating, the way her full lips pulled into a stern line of disapproval. She looked like a teacher with a need to discipline. She also went straight around his desk, not sitting across from it, and got into his face. His body tightened as she got closer, even as he grinned at her gumption.

  “They needed a break. A lot of them have been working on no sleep.”

  Guilt pecked at him. “I know, Kate. It’s been a rough haul, but trust me when I say the work they’re doing—you’re doing—is vitally important. Besides, the conditions might be rough, but they’re temporary.”

  “You don’t want me to work overnight, do you?” she asked, aghast.

  The vision of her, reporting to him alone in his office late at night, suddenly rocked him. She’d have a pencil holding up those red curls in a loose bun, and she’d take off her glasses and maybe shake her hair down, and it would sort of cascade in slow motion…

  And I’ll stop myself right there. He shook his head, trying to shake off the reverie. She’s an employee. And this isn’t a music video, for Christ’s sake.

  She was looking at him like he was some kind of slave driver, and he realized he hadn’t answered. “I’ve had people pull all-nighters, and yes, the guys stay here,” he said, leaning his weight against his desk. “But no, you don’t need to work overnight.”

  Kate bit her lip, and he found himself staring at the innocent little gesture. “Why do they stay here?” she finally asked, her voice hesitant.

  “They’re a long way from home,” Thomas said. “The other reasons are, well, not illegal… but not something I want to discuss.”

  She nodded but didn’t look convinced. She probably thought he was the biggest bastard on the planet. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t bother him—he was used to a lot worse judgment from a lot harsher people, and outside opinion tended to give him a raging case of the fuck-its—but he didn’t like seeing the disappointment in those pretty eyes of hers.

  “I didn’t want them to be treated that way initially,” he heard himself say.

  “Oh?” She sounded unconvinced. She crossed her arms, refusing to sit down. “So why did you?”

  He frowned. “They… hurt some temps.”

  Kate’s eyes popped wide. “No way.”

  “I need them, because they know the language and because we signed a contract,” Thomas said, keeping as close to the truth as he could. “But they crossed the line. They wanted to act like animals, they got treated like animals.”

  She stared at him, then her pale skin went a little paler. He cursed himself. Why was he telling her all this? He’d brought her here to test her, not get on her good side. Or, at this point, scare her.

  “I just can’t believe it. Some of them are really sweet…” She swallowed.

  “But a few of them aren’t, right?”

  She nodded. “I’ve had a bad run-in, yeah, and some of them are a little macho. But Slim’s kept them in line.”

  “I’ve made it clear what happens to them if another woman gets hurt on my watch.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Only women, huh?”

  Thomas frowned. “Well, anybody,” he amended. “And Al… well, I’m not even going to get into my working relationship with Al. But that’s not why I asked you up here anyway.”

  She finally sat down, looking at him curiously. “Why did you ask me up here? You said you had questions.”

  He’d thought carefully about how he was going to pull this off. He didn’t want her to get suspicious, and saying, Hey, could you touch this piece of paper? and then sending her off if she didn’t drop dead in the middle of his office would probably seem a little questionable.

  “I wanted to ask you about continuing work when this contract piece is done,” he said instead, leaning back in his chair.<
br />
  “No.” The word was out of her mouth before he finished his sentence. He quirked an eyebrow at her interruption, and at least she blushed. “I mean— Sorry. I, uh, don’t think I’m cut out for working for a big corporation.”

  “That’s such a cop out.”

  Now her eyebrows jumped to her hairline. “Excuse me?”

  “Come on. You can handle everything I’ve dished out at you and then some,” he said, forgetting momentarily that this was a ruse. “You’re one of the most competent women I’ve ever met. I think you could not only handle this job—you could knock it out of the park.”

  Her hard expression softened. “Really? You think so?”

  “I really do.” He sighed. “I think you could be amazing.”

  She smiled, and it was like sunlight through honeycomb, warm and bright and sweet. He felt himself straighten in his chair, grinning back at her.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Huh?” He blinked. “Oh. Right. The job. It’d be, uh…”

  She stared at him like he was simple, and for a second, he felt it.

  Snap out of it. Get in the game.

  “Um, it’d be executive assistant.”

  “Oh. To whom?”

  “To me.”

  She stared at him for a second, in shock.

  Then she burst out laughing.

  He struggled not to feel insulted. “Problem?”

  “No, no. It’s just… I don’t know. I think that you’d need someone more…” She gestured at herself, from shoulders to toes. “Together.”

  “It’s not the package, it’s the performance,” he said, feeling a little smug. “Although you’re right, there would be certain, ah, image elements that would need to be maintained.”

  “Image elements?” She sounded suspicious. “Like what?”

  “Wardrobe, for starters,” he said, and saw her face get into that stubborn expression that he perversely enjoyed. It was the enjoyment that flagged him. Stick to business. The job offer was the cover. The real issue was tucked in an envelope on his desk. “Well, I just wanted to introduce the concept to you, have you mull it over.”

  He took a deep breath, wondering why he was so focused on her—why he was letting himself get so distracted. She was cute, no question. Still, he was around attractive women fairly frequently. He owned a fashion line, a movie studio, had ties to expensive and lavish resorts, hobnobbed with celebutantes. So why did he keep letting himself get sidetracked by Kate? Even his attraction to her didn’t explain his reticence.