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Adam was digging through a box of reference texts. He didn't look much like a librarian...unless the library catered to surfers. A stereotypical California boy, well built and tanned with sun-bleached hair and a quick smile. He didn't look much like a kid with a demon for a dad either, but that was typical for half-demons. They appeared and acted human, inheriting from their father only a set of abilities, usually elemental or sensory. Adam's power was fire. When he lost his temper, his touch could give third-degree burns. Fortunately, it was hard to piss him off.

Paige was busy on the computer, fingers flying and eyes on the monitor even as she spoke. A voluptuous twenty-seven-year-old with long dark curls, she was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Practical moving-day attire. It was rare to see Paige out of a skirt. A girly girl, as Savannah always teased.

Savannah didn't follow her guardian's tastes in clothes--or much else. One look at the seventeen-year-old--almost six feet tall and slender with long dark hair and perfect bone structure--and anyone who'd known Eve could tell who Savannah's mother was. Only her eyes, big and bright blue, came from Kristof.

Even in ripped jeans, old sneakers and a tight concert T-shirt, Savannah exuded elegance and grace...until she opened her mouth. Paige no longer commented on her ward's language. I guess parents need to pick their battles, and with Savannah, there were far more important ones. As the daughter of a sorcerer and a half-demon witch, she was a powder keg of supernatural power. At thirteen, panicked and trying to contact her dead mother, she'd leveled a house--an incident that I suspected was responsible for her father's death, though even Kristof pretended he'd died in an unrelated accident.

Savannah greeted me with an exuberant hug. Paige started to rise, but I waved her down and leaned in for a hug.

"I guess that lock on the front door still isn't working," Paige said. "I'll have to get Lucas to take another look at it. Poor guy. Really not his area of expertise."

"It's working," Savannah said. "I buzzed Jaime in."

"And didn't go down to escort her up?"

"How? You've got us working our asses off while you play on the computers."

"I'm getting the network up. If we don't have everything in place by tomorrow--"

"The earth will stop revolving around its axis. And we might lose our first paying client."

"Which is even more important." Paige looked up at me. "Sorry. Things are a little nuts. We've been slowly moving in, but now we've got a lead on a very big client...who expects to see a fully functioning professional office--tomorrow."

"Well, don't worry. I won't take up much of your time. I just want to run a scenario by you."

"Sure. We'll grab coffee and talk." A glance at the others. "Can I leave you two alone?"

"Please." Savannah turned to me. "Take her for as long as you want."

Paige pulled a face and ushered me out of the office. The drilling down the hall had stopped, replaced by Lucas's voice, quiet but insistent. We found him on his cell phone, examining a drill hole in the wall.

He peered at his drill work, his already serious face dropping into a frown. Paige caught his attention, and his eyes lit up.

"No, I don't believe you understand," he said into the phone. "We allowed for leeway on the understanding that if our needs changed and we needed the work completed promptly, it would be. If you cannot provide that..." He paused. "Good. Then I shal

l expect a crew at...?"

He lifted two fingers to Paige, who nodded. He signed off, then hung up.

"We were coming to see whether you have time for a coffee break," she said. "But I'm guessing the answer is no."

"I'll take one anyway. I could use the air. Jaime, was your flight--"

His cell phone rang. A soft sigh and he checked the number. "Jack McNeil."

"The client," Paige explained to me. "Take it. We'll bring you back a coffee. Jaime can explain her situation then."

WE WALKED to a bakery a block up. Paige swore the neighborhood wasn't as bad as it looked. I put my trust in her hands...and her defensive spells. We were still catching up when we returned to the building, coffees in hand.

"Savannah's working for us this year while she decides what she wants to do about college."

"Is she still leaning toward graphic design?" I asked.

"She is, but she wants our advice and we're really torn. Part of me wants to tell her she's doing the right thing, preparing for a reliable career while she pursues her art in her spare time. The other part wants to say 'forget practicality' and tell her to enroll in a fine-arts program."

"Getting a job to fall back on isn't the worst idea. Jeremy worked as a translator for years before his paintings started to sell."

She led me onto the elevator. "I think that's who she's taking her cue from. But I worry that Lucas and I are both too inclined to push practicality and maybe that's what's driving her decision. Anyway, she has a year to think about it."

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