Chapter 58
Later that afternoon, Kate found herself at the glassy expanse of her new desk.
She was outfitted in Fiendish Fashion, yet again.
This time, she chose what she wanted, glowering at the stylist until she stopped making “suggestions.” Despite the dressy nature of the black jacket, she wore a sexy, loose red tank top beneath it, and black cargo pants, replete with pockets.
Her black boots were the Fiendish version of Doc Martens, high and laced, with just enough heel to stomp someone.
She was wearing her squared black glasses again, too, her black hair pulled into a high ponytail.
She was going for a cross between Emma Peel and Lara Croft. A message for future dickheads like Victor: do not fuck with me.
Thomas’s eyes had popped wide when he got a load of her.
Her body was still tuned up—and keenly disappointed—but she was grateful that they’d agreed to draw the line.
With her life and her soul on the line, she literally couldn’t afford a screw up, and her interactions with men tended to be rife with them.
She thought of Victor, and Ginny. And Slim. Her ardor cooled like she’d been dunked in an ice floe.
Nope. She was done fucking around. She was going to make it through this, help Thomas get his soul back. Get her soul back in the process.
And just get my life in order.
Despite the peril of it all, for the first time in a long time, she thought she was on the right track.
Her cell vibrated, and she felt her heart jump. “Prue?” she answered, almost bobbling the phone.
“Hey, sweetie.” Prue’s voice was soothing, but sounded tired.
“It’s so good to hear from you,” Kate said. “You don’t even know.”
“Can I come up, so we can talk?”
“Here? To my office?” Kate asked, stunned. Then she paused. “I don’t know. Can you?”
Without turning into something weird and wanting to kill me? she added silently.
“I think so,” Prue said. “That’s part of what I want to talk to you about, actually.”
She’d missed Prue so much. Besides, after the past twenty-four hours, Kate felt inured to big threats. If Prue thought it was safe, it was. “I’m on the thirty-second floor. Big office to the left.”
She paced anxiously until Prue got there. When she did, all Kate wanted to do was hug her best friend, but after their last meeting, decided to be—pardon the pun—prudent.
Prue looked thinner than usual, and tired. But otherwise, she was wearing her usual, a batik halter top and some embroidered jeans with Japanese cotton print edging on the hems. Despite the fatigue, she still managed to look like a runway model.
Yagi accompanied her, to Kate’s surprise. “Thanks for showing me the way, Yagi-san,” Prue said.
Yagi smiled, executing a graceful bow, even as he stared at Prue like a starving man at a Krispy Kreme with the Hot sign on. “It was my pleasure,” he said, all but purring.
Kate, having seen this reaction to Prue before, rolled her eyes.
Prue ignored him—or tried to. She took a step toward Kate, only to have Yagi step in front of her.
“Please remember, if you have any questions whatsoever about Fiendish, or…what we discussed earlier,” he said smoothly. “Or if perhaps you are available for dinner—”
Prue slid her head to one side, then shot him an are you serious? glare.
He shrugged. “Apologies.” Then he nodded, bowed again, and left.
Kate leaned against her desk, crossing her ankles and smirking at her friend. “If you were at the North Pole, there would be one adventurer out there who would ask you out, I swear to God.”
“That one?” Prue said, shooting a quick glance at the ceiling. “It’s not what you think. He’s just desperate.”
Now it was Kate’s turn to scoff. “Sure he is. Because only a desperate man would be attracted to you.”
“Besides, he’s a senior citizen,” Prue said with a dismissive gesture. “I wouldn’t screw him with your hoo-hah.”
They both giggled, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed between them.
Then Prue’s expression went tense, and she sighed.
“Seriously. Is this okay?” Kate asked tentatively. “You don’t want to, um…kill me, or anything, do you?”
“No,” Prue said slowly, but Kate sensed the hesitation. “Nan Temper made me a charm. Also, I came to the building to reach Yagi-san when I couldn’t get you, to tell him about the phone thing. He called me after to let me know you were okay, and we talked for a bit. He’s like me, it turns out.”
“What, Japanese?” Kate snorted. “There’s a shocker.”
“No, dingus,” Prue said, but her smile was easier, more relaxed. “He’s onimyoji. And, um, kitsune.”
“What does that mean?”
“That,” Prue said, “is a long story.” She paused. “Which I’ll tell you. Over coffee.”
The last of Kate’s tension was finally draining from her system. She grabbed her messenger bag. “I’m glad you came back, Prue. I missed you.”
“Missed you too, sweetie.” They headed for the elevator. “I might hate what you’re into, but I’m not going to let you struggle your way out of it alone.”
Kate felt her chest warm.
“You sure you’ll stay working here while you do it, though?” Prue asked, her lip curling with distaste. “It’s so…corporate.”
Kate thought of Slim, and the Basement Boys. Thought about everything she’d been through.
Then she thought about Thomas.
And smiled.
“What the hell,” Kate said, hitting the button for the lobby. “It’s a living.”