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1
EMMA
“Step through.”
A security guard discreetly scans my badge and waves me through an unobtrusive metal detector on the first floor of 666 South Avenue. The address is a bit on the nose, although the Devil’s Advocate law firm isn’t the only business operating out of the massive building. I suspect, however, just from the amount of support workers with horns, that the majority of the businesses here are demon owned and operated.
You’re not in Kansas anymore, Emma.
The guard nods towards a row of sleek elevators. “Good morning, Miss Pelton. You’ll be on the thirteenth floor. Mr. Blackwell said to send you straight up.”
Of course it’s the thirteenth floor.
I suppose demons aren’t as superstitious as humans. Or maybe their superstitions work in reverse. Whatever the case, I allow a security officer with black horns and a fanged smile to wave me into a fully glass elevator. The attendant, another demon with glowing, crimson eyes, beams at me as the doors close.
I can’t help but wonder what my parents would think of all of this. They’re both conservative – conservative forKansas, which is a feat in itself. They don’t put much stock in demons or other monsters mixing with humans. To be fair, they also don’t put much stock in women working outside of the home.
The elevator surges up to the top floor, and I feel a bit dizzy when I look down. The attendant watches, apparently waiting for a reaction, so I pull my hands from the elevator railing and cross them easily over my chest. See? No white knuckling it here.
I only have to do this every single day I report to work.
I grit my teeth a bit as I smile at the attendant, before stepping out onto the thirteenth floor. No problem.
Getting a scholarship and making it through law school without the support of my family wasn’t easy, either. Whatever I need to do, even if it means climbing in a glass death trap every morning with a demon at the helm, I’ll do it.
It’s a good thing I’ve composed myself as the elevator zooms back down, because there are four people waiting for me as I wait for my legs to stop shaking. Three demons, one human. They’re all dressed to the nines in what I imagine must be designer suits – it’s not like I’m out shopping every weekend, but their suits are obviously well-tailored. Unlike my pencil skirt I picked off a discount rack in a discount store, for example.
My cheeks heat as they stare at me and I fight the urge to duck my head. “Good morning.” There, that sounded confident-ish.
“Good morning,” one of the demons purrs. “I’m Damien. We spoke on the phone.”
Right. The oldest Blackwell brother. He’s not the tallest, but there’s no doubt that he’s in charge. He wears an aura of authority like a second skin. I’d spoken to him during two phone interviews because he was too busy to schedule anything in person, and I’d thought I’d blown another job opportunity before I’d gotten the welcome email from the firm three days ago.
“This is my brother, Luc,” Damien says. Luc gives me an easy smile, but it’s clear that he’s only half listening as he taps away on his phone. “And one of the firm's top lawyers and newest hires, Sophia Belmont-Blackwell.”
My gaze flicks to the wedding rings on both Sophia and Damien’s fingers. Sophia Belmont is one of the best prosecutors in Chicago, or at least she used to be. I wonder what happened – she was prosecuting a case against Damien a while back.
Before I can wonder too much, Damien introduces his middle brother, Finn. He’s teasing him a bit, I think, but my thoughts have suddenly slowed. There’s something about his slicked back dark hair that draws my attention straight to his clever eyes. I’ve never thought of a demon as having pretty eyes before, but his are stunning and framed by delicate black lashes.
They quickly scan my body, so fast that I nearly don’t notice, except that there’s a heat in his gaze that wasn’t there a few seconds before. I must be seeing things. I blink and look at him again, and his eyes are back to casual interest.
“...introduce you around?”
I blink and nod. “Yes, that sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
Finn offers his arm to lead me around the office, but I decline. Mostly because we aren’t living in the fifties, but also because I’m a little worried that if I touch him my cheeks might burn brighter than they’re burning already.
I wish, not for the first time, that I wasn’t so damned shy. I’ve come so far from my parents’ influence, but their constant admonitions that children should be seen and not heard took deep roots. Law school for quiet folks isn’t easy, and sometimes the effort of crawling out of my shell leaves me completely exhausted at the end of the day.
But I find that Finn is surprisingly easy to talk to, at least for me. We almost seem to banter, which is a skill I thought I lacked.
“Welcome to our humble office,” he drawls, merely raising a dark eyebrow at my refusal.
“It’s anything but humble.” Floor-to-ceiling windows show off Chicago’s thriving downtown. Between the Dark Emperador marble floors and sleek standing desks, it’s clear that this law firm isn’t hurting for clients. There’s a snack bar in the far right with a selection of treats for both the human and demon palate.
“HR says it’s not appropriate to devour the raw hearts of our vanquished enemies in the breakroom,” Finn laments. “So we had to invest in a smoothie machine. Want one?”
I look at the uniformed smoothie worker. “Is it organ-free?”
