Kate gasped, stumbling backward and falling on her ass. “What the
fuck
, Prue?” she yelped.
Prue shook her head, then staggered back herself, hitting the door. “Oh my God,” she said, taking deep, gulping gasps. “Oh my God.”
“You, in the house,” Nan ordered, shoving Prue in the doorway before turning back. “Kate, you’re gonna have to leave.”
“What? Why?” Kate asked, reeling. “What just happened?”
Nan sighed deeply. “You might say that Prudence’s heritage finally decided to show up,” she said cryptically. “For now, the hint of your demon taint—signing your soul—is triggering something she’s not ready for. Until she learns to get a grip on it, you need to stay the hell away from her.”
“So that’s it, then?” Kate said hollowly. “I’m just screwed?”
“I’ll look into it,” Nan grumped. “When I find out something, I’ll call you.”
“So what am I supposed to do until then?”
Nan’s wrinkled face grimaced. “Try not to die, first off. You die, you’re going to be well and truly screwed.”
“Don’t die. Great. Fantastic advice.” Kate swallowed hard. “Is Prue going to be okay?”
“Go on home, Kate,” Nan said, a little more gently. “I’ll take care of Prue.”
Kate felt terrible. She didn’t want Prue hurt, and whatever had happened had shaken them both. But she’d never imagined her best friend attacking her. She’d certainly never thought that this could happen.
For the time being, it looked like she was on her own.
Chapter Seventeen
Thomas sat in a chair in a large conference room at Fiendish Enterprises. Yvonne, head of Fiendish Couture, stood next to him, towering at six foot seven. “She” used to be a power forward for the North Carolina Tar Heels back in the day. A lot had changed.
“I wanted you to look at the prelim collection for spring,” she said, her voice low and smoky as a jazz club. “We’re doing some really avant-garde stuff, and since you’ve made that deal with so many of the movie stars from Fiendish Films, we’re getting some great buzz.”
Thomas barely listened. “I trust you, Yvonne. You don’t need to run this by me.” Especially when he had another two meetings and a million details to take care of. And the pesky business of trying to retrieve his soul while his supernatural hoodoo consultant sulked in a corner somewhere.
“You’ve got amazing instincts,” Yvonne demurred. “You’re probably the only one whose opinion I care about. So I’ll get my girls ready, okay?”
She strutted off on ridiculously high heels, graceful and yet mildly menacing, as the models who rushed out of her way no doubt noticed.
Thomas sighed, then texted Yagi for the thirty-fourth time.
“I’m here,” Yagi said, startling Thomas. “You can stop sending me messages.”
Thomas crossed his arms. “So, are you quitting?” he asked, staring at the woman coming down the makeshift “runway” rather than at his consultant.
“That will be up to you,” Yagi said, none of the fury that had colored their last conversation apparent in his voice. “But I will say that, unless you can prove to me you’re serious about getting your soul back, I will not remain in your employ.”
Thomas grimaced. The girl on the runway was wearing what looked like a barber-pole-striped dress with a metal spike as a hat, trailing a ribbon. He nodded, and she preened.
“What does this proof need to consist of?” Thomas said, glancing at Yagi and dropping his voice to a murmur that couldn’t be heard over Yvonne’s background music. “Do you expect me to kill Kate now?”
“Would you?”
Thomas was staring at the next model when Yagi asked the question, and realized he was scowling fiercely when she stumbled and her expression dropped. “That’s fine,” he said to the model, then hissed at Yagi, “It wouldn’t serve any practical purpose.”
“It might give you a little boost in power,” Yagi said. “After all, she didn’t have a lawyer go over her contract like you did. She’s got standard boilerplate—if she dies, you still get to retain a percentage of her soul power.”
Thomas shot over an icy glare. “I’m not going to get my hands bloody just to help you feel better about your job.”
Before Yagi could respond, Maggie settled herself on Thomas’s other side, making sure her hip made contact with him and sitting just a fraction too close. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, shutting off her phone and tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder.
Thomas grimaced. “Why are you here at all?”
She smiled at him, playfully hitting his arm. “You know I pulled this together, Thomas,” she said, sounding surprised. “I think it’s getting there, but it needs some fine tuning.”
Thomas stared at her. He vaguely remembered her saying she wanted to be involved with this, but he was fairly certain that she was just in it to get free clothes.
“I thought I’d sit with you, explain the choices I made and what I think needs to happen,” she said, sounding a little too chipper. She was dressed to kill in her signature red from Fiendish’s business collection. Obviously she was there to prove that she was just as competent as Kate.
Oh, goody
. Between the bizarrely dressed models, Yagi’s demands, and Maggie’s hyper-cheerfulness, he felt a headache beginning to pound in time with the pulsing dance music. “Maggie, I need to finish this conversation with Yagi,” he said through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you go check on the line up of runway models?”
“Of course,” she purred, then walked with a full hip swing toward Yvonne. Thomas turned back to Yagi.
“I know that letting Kate live was a setback. Get me in a room with Victor, and I’ll show you I can handle this.”
“It’s more than just eliminating the power base, and you know it,” Yagi returned quietly. “It’s doing what a good man would be unwilling to do. The person you’re up against is one of the most vicious, brilliant men I’ve ever met. What’s more, he counts on the fact that others will have a conscience where he, himself, does not. When you hired me, you swore that you would do absolutely anything necessary to get your soul out of his clutches. Now, I need to know if you meant that, or if you simply don’t have the stomach for doing what needs to be done.”
Thomas grimaced, waving a hand at a model who strutted by in what looked like a bloody Zebra print. “Not that one,” he called, and the model slunk back, past Yvonne, who was visibly arguing with Maggie. “You tell me, Yagi. You’ve seen my business deals. You’ve seen what I did to get here. I’ve cut deals with demons; I’ve tied up most of my fortune. I built the condos and this headquarters to your specifications. I’ve cut a deal with that asshole Al to dig contracts out of Hell itself. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
Maggie strode back, her expression sharp as a dagger. “That… that
woman
is impossible,” she said, pulling out her iPhone and clicking on it. “I didn’t want to say anything, but really, I don’t think she’s going to work out. You should seriously consider replacing Yvonne.”
Thomas ignored her, staying focused on Yagi. “I can’t do this without your help; I know that. But I’m not going to hurt innocents just to show you I’m serious, so come up with something else.”
Maggie turned, about to say something to interrupt, when suddenly her eyes went wide. “What’s
she
doing here?”
Thomas glanced over his shoulder. Kate was standing at the door to the conference room, looking tired and hesitant, two things he hadn’t seen in her before. She was wearing khaki slacks and a blue denim button-down shirt, her hair in its usual ponytail. She looked like a lost college intern. He motioned to her.
Kate walked up slowly, then squared her jaw. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “I was looking for you.”
“Are you all right? After…” he paused. “You know.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m spiffy,” she muttered, then looked at Yagi. “Thank you for helping me.”
Yagi didn’t spare her a glance, looking at his watch instead. “I was just following orders.”
She winced, then turned with a determined look at Thomas. “So, where should I set up?”
“Set up?” he echoed blankly.
“For… you know,
the job
.” She frowned. “You did offer me a job, right?”
He nodded, feeling a bubble of elation. “Yeah, I did.”
“I’m sorry,” Yvonne yelled in a deep voice, with obvious pique. “Is my fashion show interfering with your coffee klatsch?”
“Give me a minute, Yvonne,” Thomas called back. He looked at Kate, then over at Maggie. “Mags, take Kate up to the large corner office on the twenty-ninth floor, okay? Make sure she’s set up with security cards and everything.”
Maggie flushed for a second, her eyes flashing, but she nodded curtly. “Of course, Thomas. You are the boss, after all.” Her voice was smooth, poisonously sweet. “Kate, honey, could you go wait in the hallway for a second? I just need to run something by Thomas here for a second.”
“Sure.” Kate looked amused for a moment, then glanced back at Thomas. “I’d really love to talk to you, when you get a chance.”
He could only imagine. “When I’m done with this, I’ll come look for you,” he promised.
Kate went out in the hallway. When the door closed behind her, Maggie cleared her throat. “About my special projects—”
“I don’t have time, Maggie,” Thomas said, cutting her off. “Yvonne’s already mad, and I have a million details and meetings to take care of. We can talk later.”
“But Thomas…”
“I don’t like this,” Yagi said. “We don’t even know how she holds power over the demons. She could be powerful. She’s definitely unpredictable.”
“But she’s signed now,” Thomas argued. “That’s got to be useful, right?”
“If you’ll learn to
control
her,” Yagi said. “Which would mean finally studying about your powers, instead of—”
“I have an idea about how to catch that Victor guy,” Maggie interrupted, silencing them both.
Thomas and Yagi stared at her. “
You
have an idea?” Yagi repeated.
Maggie sniffed at his obvious derision. “Well,
you
didn’t get him, did you? And I haven’t heard you figuring out how to find the guy since, right?”
“I don’t tell you everything,” Yagi said, sounding offended. “In fact, I don’t think you’re privy to any information regarding this man or the current status of his whereabouts.”
“Well, I’ve been reading the private investigator reports,” she said, sounding smug. “I had them send over those extra copies, remember?”
“I also remember we wouldn’t have needed extra copies if you hadn’t opened your mouth to Kate,” Thomas added, watching as Maggie’s expression fell. “I’m with Yagi on this one. You don’t need to know more about Victor.”
Maggie’s back went straight as a yardstick. “I know you think I’m a complete idiot, Thomas,” she said, managing to sound injured. “But the report said that he’s a serial killer. He’s been killing people for years, but his parents have covered it up. I mean, he never was indicted.”
“I know,” Thomas said, irritated. “I read the report, too.”
And I saw what he did to Kate
. He noticed his hand had clenched into a fist. He forced himself to relax.
“I guess he killed a bunch of women in their twenties,” she continued. “And I couldn’t help but notice—all of them were redheads.”
She whispered this like a dirty secret. Thomas waited for a second, as she stared at him expectantly. “So what?”
“Hey, I know things. I watch
CSI
and
Criminal Minds
, stuff like that,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “They say serial killers have a victim type.”
“Well, if
Criminal Minds
says so,” he drawled.
She ignored his sarcasm. “And they say when a serial killer gets someone in his victim type, but he’s thwarted, then he’ll need to kill again even more badly.”
Thomas glanced at Yagi, expecting to see the Asian’s clear impatience. Instead, Yagi was looking at Maggie with curious disbelief.
“That’s actually not bad,” Yagi said. “I’ll check the morgues, see if any redheaded women have been murdered recently.”
“That’s not all, though. I’ll bet he really, really wants to finish what he started. If you can’t find the guy,” Maggie said, “maybe… maybe you can have him come to you. That’s all I’m saying.”
Thomas was still reeling over Yagi’s reluctant approval, and his mind couldn’t quite wrap around what she was saying. Apparently it was a good point, since Yagi was now nodding at her with something close to respect.
“Like I said—I know you think I’m a complete idiot. But this is a special project I might actually be good at,” she said, her smile winter cold. “You think it over, okay?”
With that, she walked out.
“Well,” Thomas said. “
That
was unexpected.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Maggie’s got a point,” Yagi mused. “If we could somehow flaunt Kate, show that she’s not only alive, she’s thriving, and she’s just within reach…”
“What?” Thomas said, feeling like he was rapidly losing control of the conversation. “Kate? Why Kate?”
“Kate was Victor’s prey,” Yagi said, enunciating clearly. “She escaped. She fits his profile. She’s tied to you, and I imagine that given his relationship with Cyril, he’s probably got something to prove. Kate is perfect.”
“Perfect for what?” Thomas felt his stomach knot. “What are you saying?”
“You said you’d prove you were serious about this. So, do it,” he said. “Use Kate as bait.”
…
I need a game plan.
Kate sat uncomfortably at the large glass desk, looking out at the Bay. She’d thought about staying away, but really, what was the point? She needed answers, and this was the only place she could think of to get any. Thomas appeared to need her, and he seemed genuinely sorry that he’d dragged her into this mess. He had technically saved her life, if damned her soul. Which was confusing enough to think about.
She still needed to talk to Thomas, but he seemed to be the king of subject avoidance and that was going to take some time. She needed to talk to him about the job itself, besides, but Maggie hadn’t been clear on when or how that would happen. Now, she was hanging out like an underdressed corporate squatter in the cavernous office Maggie had angrily dumped her in, and waiting wasn’t exactly her strong suit.
Admittedly, Kate had never paid too much attention to her mom’s lectures, but if her stoic mother had emphasized anything, it was that when a crisis strikes, do what you would have been doing anyway.
So she went down to the basement.
It occurred to her that the guys handled the contracts all the time. Maybe they’d signed their souls over, too, she thought. Of course,
she
seemed immune—so maybe they were, too? Maybe it wasn’t as weird as Nan Temper had made it seem.
“Kate, you’re here,” Slim said, and she jumped, surprised out of her thoughts. “We heard that you had received a new job with Mr. Kestrel. The Overseer doubted you would return to us.”
He sounded and looked happy to see her. She couldn’t help it; she smiled back. “How’s it going?”
“We are down to the last name,” he said with a mixture of pride and sadness. “I think our contract assignment will close quite soon. I’m glad you came down before we had to go back.”
Slim was a good guy. He’d always been nice to her. It suddenly occurred to Kate that he probably knew lots of stuff she didn’t.
What’s more, he might not mind telling her.
“I don’t suppose I can take you out for coffee, or anything. I bet you’d like Starbucks.”
He blinked, his Adam’s apple bouncing like a fishing bobber. “No, no. Our contract is quite specific. We are limited to this building.”