“Yeah, it worked. Sleep it off, man.” Part of me was proud of him. Part of me was proud of me, for being able to get it out of him.
“Here, I’ll even rub your shoulders.” Dante proceeded to do just that, until Tai winced.
“Watch it, you’re pulling my hair.”
The black man looked sheepish. “Oops. Got caught on my watch. Here, Boo, hold this for me.” He tossed his watch to Gretchen, then finished rubbing the bodyguard’s shoulders. “Who knew we had Harry Potter right here with us all along?”
I think, if Tai hadn’t been so wiped out, he might have chuckled at that. As it was, he was already sound asleep.
12
“What I don’t understand, still, is why all this is happening?” Gretchen kept her voice down in deference to her sleeping bodyguard, but I’m not sure an atomic bomb dropping could have woken Tai. “I mean, they already have what they need from me. I never tried to back out, never tried to go back on my end, so why would anyone be coming for me? Why do you need to be here?”
She looked like a little girl there, all curled up in her fluffy robe, her feet tucked up under her on the couch. She wasn’t that much younger than me, really, but at that moment, I felt very, very old.
I rested my elbows on my knees, trying to figure out how much to say. Did I want to admit I was here at the behest of a demon? No, not really. “From what I was told, when your contract was made, there was a loophole. Something to do with who owns those extra souls you’re carting around when you die.”
“What kind of loophole?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was told that basically whoever is around can just…scoop them up or something. It was your contract, don’t you remember?”
Gretchen shook her head. “I didn’t negotiate it. Reggie did.” When I blinked at her, she shrugged back at me. “He negotiates contracts for a lot of people. Selling your soul…it’s just another business transaction.” She sat in silence for a few moments, nibbling her bottom lip. Mira did that when she was thinking, too. It made me miss her. “It has to be decided somehow. I mean, if there were four demons standing around the moment I die, do they all get a cut, or is there a way to choose?”
“I’m sure the wording is in the contract. Do you think he’d remember exactly what was said?”
Gretchen hopped to her feet, nudging Dante off the couch in the process. “He doesn’t have to. He keeps a written copy on file in his office. Come on, we’re going to Reggie’s.”
Everyone was wrangled in pretty short order, with the exception of the sleeping Tai. Gretchen turned her big baby blues on Dante, fluttering her eyelashes. “Could you stay with him? I don’t want him here alone when he can’t defend himself.”
Dante snorted. “What do you expect me to do if someone breaks down the door? Style their hair while we wait for Tai to wake up and kick some ass?” Still, he agreed to stay. I had the idea he’d have agreed to walk into Hell in Gretchen’s place if she asked him.
With Tai out of commission, Bobby had to drive, which left Gretchen and me alone in the back. “Y’know, we could have just called him.”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “No, I want the document before he has time to alter it.”
I tilted my head, looking at her thoughtfully. “You don’t trust him.”
“Of course not.” She looked at me like I was stupid. Maybe I was. “I don’t trust anyone, except Dante. That’s how you survive here.”
“That seems…very lonely.”
She shrugged. “I knew what I was getting into when I asked for it. I don’t regret anything.”
“Was it worth it?” Some perverse part of me had to know.
She smiled a little. “I guess we’ll see.”
Reggie’s office was somewhere very…office-y. “Century City,” Gretchen told me when I asked where in the hell we were.
Some big high-rise, taller than anything you’d see in Kansas City. It reminded me of the office building from Die Hard, which honestly creeped me out a little. Anybody said “yippy-ki-yay” and I’d be the first one out the door.
We pulled into the parking garage, but when Bobby went to get out of the car, I stopped him. “Stay here.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because if we have to come out of here hot, I want the doors unlocked and the engine running.” Did I really think we’d be attacked in the middle of office cubes, copiers and fax machines? No. But it wasn’t impossible.
After a moment, Bobby nodded and settled back into his seat.
Gretchen had to check us in at the security desk, then we waited a few moments for the elevator. If anyone else passing by recognized her, they were professional enough not to remark on it. How strange her life must be, I realized, when just simple anonymity was a luxury.
Reggie’s office was one of many in an agency full of agents and lawyers. The receptionist at the front couldn’t have been more than twenty, and her skirt was hiked up so high I could almost see things I shouldn’t have even been paying attention to. Maybe it makes me a bad person, but I’m guessing she wasn’t hired for her intellect. She barely looked up from texting on her phone to nod us in. Apparently Gretchen had an all-access pass.
Reggie himself was behind his desk when we walked in, preening in a hand mirror, and he stood up with a broad smile when he saw who it was. “Gretchen honey! What are you doing here? Did I miss an appointment?”
“No no, we’re just dropping in.” She exchanged hugs with him, then plopped herself in one of his comfy leather chairs. “We’re actually here because I need a copy of some paperwork.”
“Of course. Which?” He perched himself on the edge of his desk, but he couldn’t help darting a glance toward me. I smirked in my head, but kept it off my face. He was trying to figure out why I was here, what this was all about. Good. Let him wonder.
“My contract.”
He chuckled. “More specific? You have a lot of contracts, honey.”
“This one.” She held out her arm, displaying the writhing black tattoo. “I need to see some things.”
He raised one sandy brow, but nodded and walked to one of his file cabinets. “Are you…thinking of backing out?”
“I don’t know yet. I just want to see it.”
Reggie shot me a venomous glance at that, like somehow it was all my fault. Well, okay, it was. Suck it, just like my shirt said.
It took him a few minutes of flipping through files to find it. I didn’t believe for a moment that he didn’t know exactly which document it was. He was stalling, trying to figure out what we were doing and how to undo any damage I’d done. “Ah, here we are. But I don’t know how much good it’s going to do you.”
Gretchen took the offered document from him. Somehow, I’d expected it to be scrawled in blood on parchment, or human skin or something, but it was just a regular old contract, printed on legal-sized paper. Unfortunately, it was written in the scrawling demon script, and it wriggled as we looked at it. The only legible thing was Gretchen’s signature on the final page, along with a smaller version of the tattoo on her arm—the demon’s signature, so to speak.
Reggie stood silently, letting her flip through the pages—there had to be at least twenty of them. Long, detailed contract—before he cleared his throat. “Can I ask what you’re looking for?”
“The loophole.” Gretchen had her head down, so she didn’t see Reggie go a little gray under his tan. I did. “You remember the loophole, don’t you, Reggie?” She fixed him with a piercing stare when she finally raised her eyes to him. Maybe she hadn’t missed him going pale after all. Y’know, I had to admit. The girl kinda impressed me.
“It’s been a long time since I negotiated that one, Gretchen. I don’t recall any particular loophole.”
“Read it to me.” She stood up from her chair, thrusting the papers at him. Somehow, she managed to tower over him despite the fact that he had a good four inches on her, even with her in heels. “Find me the part that explains exactly wh
at this loophole is, and why something tried to kill me today.”
His gaze shifted back and forth between Gretchen and me. I just crossed my arms over my chest and did my best to look intimidating. She had this under control, apparently. When he got no reaction from me, and Gretchen continued to stab him with her frosty baby blues, he sighed and leaned against his desk again.
“I can’t read the language, Gretchen. But, if I had to guess, the other assets that you’ve gathered over the last five years—”
“Souls,” Gretchen interrupted. “Souls I’ve gathered.”
Reggie nodded reluctantly. “Souls. I believe that the original intent was for those to go to the demon who offered you your contract. However, if there is anything in that contract that might leave ownership…ambiguous…well, that might be worth killing over, don’t you think?”
“Ambiguous how? How is ownership decided?”
Reggie shook his head. “I don’t know, honey. I don’t remember any such phrase when I negotiated this one. It may all come down to some interpretation in the language.”
Gretchen frowned. “We need someone to translate this, then.”
“There I can’t help you. I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “But if someone wants those surplus assets—”
“Souls!” We both looked at Gretchen in surprise when she raised her voice. “They are souls, Reggie! Not assets, not commodities, they are people’s souls. And someone is willing to kill to get them from me. And while I know I’m not going to get old, the idea of being tortured or something is pretty high on my list of things not to do before I die!” She shook the contract in his face. “You did this. You’re the one who fucked up this contract, and now something is after me. We all know I’m gonna die young. Live fast, leave a good-looking corpse. Leave a tragic legacy behind. That was part of the plan. This? This was not.”
For a moment, I thought she was going to slap him in the face. Personally, I kinda wanted to see that. Instead, she just shook her head. “I’m going to go make a copy of this. I’m gonna find someone who can read it.” She stalked out of the office, leaving me and Reggie to eye each other warily.
“You did this. She didn’t give a shit about that damn contract until you showed up.”
“You really wanna go there? Start pointing out who is to blame for what?” I raised a brow at him, and ultimately he couldn’t meet my stare. He looked down first. In man-speak, that meant I won. With a smirk, I started walking around, exploring his office. Golf trophies. Autographed celebrity pictures for just about everybody who was anybody in Hollywood. Framed press releases. Everything displayed in very careful order, very neat placement.
There were also some old books, the bindings so faded I couldn’t even tell what they used to say. I picked one up and flipped a few pages, just to hear Reggie hiss in caution. They were practically ancient, whatever they were. Handwritten in fading ink, the paper thick and yellowed. The words in it were English, but not the version we speak now. The kind where they put an e at the end of random words. Olde. Towne. Taverne. There were a few sketches on some of the pages, not professional drawings, just little idle doodles. I fancied that this was the journal of some medieval student, bored in his classes. On the next page, surely I’d find the equivalent of “Kilroy was here.”
“That book is priceless. Please be careful.”
I raised a brow at him, and toyed with the idea of dumping the old tome on the floor. But being a fan of old written works myself, I relented and put the book back on the shelf. “How many, Reggie? How many souls have you bargained away at the behest of your clients?”
“It is my job to do what the client wants, regardless of how ill-advised I think it is. And really, most of the time, it works to their benefit. At least in the short term.”
“And yours?” I picked up one of his trophies, turning it over in my hands then replacing it on the shelf crooked just because I could and I’m petty. “I notice you haven’t sold your own soul in one of these very profitable arrangements.”
“Of course not. Do I look stupid?”
“Then what do you get out of all this?”
“As their representative, I get a small percentage of their earnings. If I can enhance that earning potential with this kind of contract, so much the better. That’s not evil, Mr. Dawson, just good business.”
“And if it gets you in good with the forces of Hell, then maybe you’ll get a little compensation on the back side, right? Should you ever need it?”
He was quiet a while before he answered. “That possibility hasn’t been addressed yet.”
I snorted. “Not out loud, maybe, but you have it all worked out in your head. Who to ask for a favor, what leverage you have where. All planned out neatly in that tiny, oily little brain of yours. ’Cause that’s the kind of guy you are. You’re a planner.” I finally turned to look at him. “You’re disgusting.”
Reggie smirked at me. “Glass houses and stones, Mr. Dawson. Remember, I know who sent you here. An interesting…side job you have going, there. Could be lucrative in the future, if you play your cards just right.”
That stung. Bad. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong. “My business is mine. And at least I’m not dragging other people down with me.” Except my wife. My daughter. My friends, family, loved ones. Yeah, I’m a real freakin’ hero.
“To each his own then.” He shrugged, smiling at me as if we were old friends just chatting about the weather.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to punch somebody in the face so badly in my life. Luckily, Gretchen came back about then, keeping me from devolving to my baser nature.
She slapped one copy of the contract down on Reggie’s desk, and thrust the other one at me. I rolled it up and crossed my arms over my chest again. “If you can’t tell, Reggie, I’m really unhappy about this. I’ll be reviewing my contract with you as well over the next few days.” She gave him a cold smirk. “I already have a copy of that one at home.”
“Of course, honey. As you see fit. Let me know if there are any points you want to renegotiate.” He gave her a smile too, charming and poised. Somewhere in all this, he’d gathered himself, recovered from his upset earlier. I didn’t like that. Somewhere in that slick, sleazy mind of his, he’d come up with something, something we didn’t know. And if it made him happy, it wasn’t something I wanted to see happen.
“Come on, Jesse.” She turned on her heel and stalked out, leaving me to follow. My skin itched, right between my shoulder blades, the entire time my back was turned to Reggie. Pretty sure that was the exact spot the daggers from his eyes were landing.
Back in the car, Gretchen stared at that contract until I thought her eyes might pop right out of her head. Finally, she tossed it into the floorboards, rubbing at her temples with a pained sigh. “There’s no way to read this. Feels like my head is going to explode.”
“Well, there might be a way.” She raised her head to give me a curious look. “There’s one other person who was there the night you made this contract, right?” I reached over and tapped the tattoo on her arm with one finger. “What if we ask him?”
She thought it over, but finally shook her head. “Even if I could get him to show up, you think he’d tell the truth? He’s a demon.”
“You call his name, he’ll show up. I promise that much. As for truth…well, we got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” Oh, how I hated this idea. Hated it with a freakin’ passion. You don’t summon demons. You just don’t. I’d done it once, just once in the five years I’d known about them, and it still felt like slimy ants marching all over my skin every time I thought about it. Something like that, it leaves a stain in your mind.
“But he won’t.” She gave me a perplexed look. “I’ve tried to call him again, and he doesn’t show up.”
“Wait. You mean to tell me you called a demon by name and it didn’t show?”
“Yeah. Does that mean something important?”
I had no idea. I’d never heard of it happening before. I mean, a
demon’s name was power. One whisper of it could get their attention in whatever Hell they existed in, no matter how far away. Call it out loud, and they would ride a human voice across the veil, materializing in our world with all their powers in full effect. Why one would miss that opportunity was beyond me. “Well, we’re gonna try again. You got some place you suggest for this? The hotel room is off limits.” It was the one stronghold we had, if we could even call it that. I wasn’t going to invite a demon right in.
“Reggie has a place he uses. Says it’s special. We could try that?”
I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Bobby. Take us to the observatory.”
“Actually, Bobby, I need to stop off and grab some stuff. You guys got a Wal-Mart out here somewhere?” I wasn’t going to mix it up with a demon without a bit more ammunition. And it’s amazing what you can pick up at your local stop-n-shop, if you know what to look for.
The supply run took no time at all, and dusk was coming on as we drove toward the observatory, the winter sun setting into the ocean somewhere behind us. Night was a good time for demon summoning. They tended to avoid the sunlight, and if we were dealing with a reluctant demon, I wanted to make sure the widdle fellow felt right at home.
Bobby pulled the car through the gates of a park and on up the winding street. It felt like we were the only ones in the world, trundling up toward the observatory that I could already see lighted against the night sky. “Are you sure this place is open?”
“Until ten. And this time of year, there shouldn’t be too many people here. I hope.”
It seemed like we drove uphill forever. And while my brain knew that this wasn’t technically “the mountains,” little me, born and bred around Missouri’s river bluffs, thought it looked pretty damn impressive. Below us, I could see Los Angeles spread out like a Christmas tree, the lights of the city gradually taking the place of the light of day. I was forced to admit, if only to myself, that Kansas City looked nothing like this.
“If we were here during the day, you can see the Hollywood sign from certain places along here,” Gretchen supplied, perhaps tired of the silence. She even sounded a tiny bit apologetic. “But they don’t light it at night.”
A Wolf at the Door Page 15