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“No clue.” I grab the walkie-talkie from my belt and press the button on the side. “Did someone sanction a parade today and forget to tell the rest of us?”
Sharpe’s voice crackles through the speaker. “No. What’s your location?”
“Webb and I are in front of headquarters.” I track the parade’s progress. “It’s moving toward the tunnels.”
A being waves a sign that catches my eye. I squint to make out the spiky letters, the mixture of demonic and human writing making it difficult to decipher.
When I do, a laugh escapes me. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Pen?” Sharpe barks for my attention. “Do you need backup?”
I return my baton to my belt. “No, let them have their fun. They deserve it.”
I pull out my phone to search for the news and find it on the front page.
Early this morning, Reverend Shawe from the Church of Humanity was found mauled in his backyard. It appears to be a horrible tragedy. Wildlife investigators are still looking for the animal that brutally attacked the reverend. They believe this to be a rabid dog, and they caution people to keep their pets inside and to stay away from stray animals.
A laugh escapes me.
“Pen!” Sharpe’s frustrated tone makes it clear this isn’t the first time he yelled my name.
I raise the walkie-talkie to my mouth and click the button. “Burgers at Hopper’s tonight to celebrate. Karma finally took care of a great evil for us.”
Now, if only karma would take care of Bailey so our cabin renovation could get back on track before I murder the men I love.
sympathy for the client
- Darius -
Silk, cotton, and the faint tang of sulfur surround me, along with the soft rustle of cloth as I run my fingers over the bolts displayed on the shelves.
Over the last several weeks, I’ve brought in the best materials from both the human and demon planes. A cacophony of colors, textures, and styles, each piece of clothing producing a unique creation tailored to the individual, curating what I offer to meet the desires of even the most discerning client.
Or so I thought, until a new customer appeared to throw my day into chaos.
The suit commission must be perfect. Every stitch. Every detail.
Usually, my shop is a haven for those with tastes for the extraordinary, filled with the hushed murmur of my customers discussing their preferences. Not today, though. They’ve all been frightened away.
The newcomer stands at the design table, his imposing figure sending my assistants scurrying to the back room. His gaze flits from one bolt to another, a dissatisfied frown twisting his sculpted lips.
I select a burnt-umber silk and return to him. “Perhaps this will better fit your needs?”
His nostrils flare. “What about the buttons? How will they go with the umber silk?”
I lift the tray that displays the finish options for the custom metal buttons I make in-house, selecting a slender bar of brushed bronze. “Might I suggest this one? It will allow the color to shine.”
Bringing the hinged light closer, I flick it from the red haze of the demon plane to bright white, then to warm yellow. “It will flatter no matter where you wear it.”
His hand strays back to the dusk-blue bolt I first pulled. “What of this one.”
I select an onyx and a platinum finish, setting them on the fabric. “These would both go well. What occasion will you be wearing the?—”
The melodious chime of the bell above the entrance rings through the shop.
“Consider the options while I check on the new customer.” I brush back my burgundy hair as I step around the short wall that separates the display room from the design area.
Pleasure fills me when I spot Merri standing near the pickup counter, her Bone Guard uniform tailored to the lean lines of her body. In her hands, she holds a to-go cup from my favorite tea cart down the street.
