“This could still work out for both of us,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “We can help each other here.”
“I’m not negotiating with you,” she said, pushing the wheelie-chair to force him to step back.
“Not a Deal,” he said, jumping back before the wheels could roll over his tail. “Just a simple trade. We both have higher-ups we’d rather not have learn about this. Help me get out of here and to somewhere safe long enough to figure out what to do, and we’re both protected. No further obligation, no souls involved. Any other negotiations to be done in more congenial circumstances.”
“There’s nothing you can offer me that I want.” Her libido very much disagreed, but her libido did not get a vote.
“Surely there’s something,” he breathed. She wished she had his confidence on sales calls.
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly, ignoring the shiver down her spine.
“Is there someone else you need murdered, maybe? Or chores!” His confident veneer cracked again. “I can do chores. Maybe. If you show me, I’ll try to do chores. All right, I’ll admit, I don’t actually know how to murder people, this one was an accident.”
From down the hall, the elevator dinged. Paramedics had access to official channels, and the Shadow Council absolutely monitored official channels. She said hurriedly, “I’ll hide you long enough to make a plan. You cannot take my soul. Or Vijay’s. Or the paramedics’ souls.”
“I accept your terms.”
“Crap, where are we going to hide you?” She looked around. There were voices coming down the hall. She should have shoved him in the stairwell, but now it was too late. They’d see as soon as he stepped out.
“I don’t have to look like this,” he said, biting his lip. She was jealous: she wanted to bite his lip. No she didn’t, that was just demon charisma. He continued, “I’m very good at illusions. Well, good. Kind of good.”
“Then look like a human!” she whispered.
He nodded frantically, and then squeezed his eyes shut. From the top of his head, a ripple traveled down his body, changing his skin color as it went to a nondescript light brown that Hollywood would equally cast as Middle Eastern or Latino or Polynesian or someone of southern European extraction with a very nice tan. Black hair covered the scales and the horns: a bit floppy for Morgan’s taste but easily fixable with a little gel. The tail vanished. The gorgeous cheekbones stayed.
“Ma’am? Where are you?” called the EMTs.
“They’re, like, in the back conference room,” Vijay called.
With seconds left, she dragged the body off the table andpositioned herself on the floor like she’d been doing CPR all along. She was only lucky that rescue breaths weren’t a thing any more. She really didn’t want to make out with her boss’s dead body for show, when she knew it wasn’t going to even do anything. “In here!” she called.
The paramedics threw open the door and took over. She eased her way out of the room, gesturing for the demon to join her.
Vijay stared myopically at the demon. “Weren’t you just, like, different?”
“How highareyou?” Morgan asked before the demon could answer.
Vijay blinked slowly. “Oh.”
“You found him?” One of the EMTs, a tired-looking Black woman around Morgan’s age, stepped out while her colleague worked.
“I did,” Morgan said before either of the other two could say anything incriminating.
“Any idea how long he was down for?”
“It could have been a while,” she said quickly, when the demon looked like he might answer. She might not lie to her mother, but she’d had plenty of practice lying to mundane humans. “No one was back there for hours.”
Vijay looked at the other EMT. “He’s not going to be OK, is he?”
“We’ll do our best,” the EMT said. It wasn’t an answer, Morgan noticed. “You’re all coworkers?”
Morgan nodded. Vijay looked confused, but he also looked like his eyes were having trouble focusing. She added, “I’ll contact our HR person and try to get his emergency contact info.”
“Any of you want to come along?”
“I think we’d get in the way,” Morgan said, and was glad to see the EMT looked more relieved than disapproving.
She held the door as they wheeled the stretcher out. Vijay grabbed Tim’s bag from his office, which was more forethought than Morgan had expected. The demon slipped her Tim’s phone and she tucked it into the bag for lack of a better idea. The demon shot her a frustrated look. Too late, she realized she could have kept the phone to try to get the ritual off it, but there was no way to retrieve the device now without looking like an incompetent pickpocket.
