Chapter Ten
Esmeray
I arrived at the office parking lot two days before my official restart date, appreciating the gentle purr of the new car that I had purchased for a song and a dance, and it reminded me of the last time I’d gone vehicle shopping and been so sickened by the salesmen that I’d just left and bought the first piece of shit with readily available online DIY videos and spare parts.
Gre walked in with me, directed me toward a sales agent, and told him in no uncertain terms that I got whatever I wanted.
He wrote a small check, and that was it.
I drove a shiny little manual Mazda home, all leather interior, heated seats, the works, for absurdly cheap.
Gre had apparently rectified a coital issue of the owner’s, which had given him his first son.
Everyone was happy. Especially me. It didn’t feel like charity.
Ausmius crawled around the new car that morning as I parked in my assigned spot up front, one of the few perks I allowed my father.
Pissy clients and horny alphas didn’t take well to omegas with power or status, and it had resulted in a confrontation or two that I’d fended off quite easily, but had almost snuffed a gentleman who would forever remember to keep his hands to himself.
In a jar on his desk. Perhaps he would keep his nubs to himself, too.
When I walked through the front doors, the front desk receptionist stared at me with wide eyes and simmering fear, the look not unique as I made my way to the elevators and then the third floor where I sidled into my back, windowless office.
Having an office with a lockable door for omegas was handy when I needed to work during my estrus. It could be distracting.
Whispers and rumors followed me as I opened my office door and found a mountain of paperwork sagging in my in-basket, all data aggregation and summary files that I needed to catalogue and organize for the partners.
I enjoyed the work immensely. I cracked my knuckles, settled into a seat, and started my computer.
While it did its thing, I upended the pile on my desk to work from the bottom.
The Randall account had more accounting documents. The Morrison divorce needed more financial discovery because Annabelle was certain her husband was hiding assets. He was. But, such was the norm, and all things were found eventually if the pay was right.
Each file I organized, ticked off boxes and put them into correct piles to go to the other interns or departments as needed. I kept the mage files, as that was my specialty—magic law.
Toward the more recent of my files, I spied a name, Lymmings. “Motherfucker.”
Ausmius, who hadn’t recovered from my mating, rose up the wall and peered over my shoulder, his shape reflecting in the little glass ornament I kept on my desk. “Basstaaarrrrdddd.”
His hiss made me raise a brow, the sharp, thin, line of my manicured brow arching in a pleasing fashion. I liked the way it did that, fierce and confident. Succubus genes were no joke.
“Tell me about it.” I opened the file and glanced over the paperwork as my stomach knotted. Malarthe Lymmings had issued a complaint with the bar that I had used my succubus powers to seduce him and had cornered him in a stairwell after the hearing in an attempt to sexually assault him.
My upper lip curled, sharp teeth glinting back at me. “Shit.”
My door opened soon after, Father standing there with a sickened sneer. “This complicates my other cases with the guild, you understand. His suit against you makes our main magic law expert a conflict of interest.”
“Fuck, what is he playing at?”
“Playing a stupid game with decent prizes.” Father leaned against the doorway, face a mask of anger that I really didn’t want to test. “How is your mate?”
I glanced up. “Succeeding where you failed.”
He frowned in thought for a moment and raised a brow similar to my own. Ok, perhaps not succubus genes. “At what, dare I ask?”
“Did you see the new car out there?” I gestured, pen in hand, toward the lot as Ausmius slithered about lamely. He feared Father to an extent but was far too deflated, unenergetic.
“I did. It’s not a luxury car by my standards, but it is one less shitty car in that lot making me look like a miser.” He sniffed.
“When you pay the other interns more, I’ll take more money.” I turned my attention back to the documents and glanced at his accusations. “I’ve done no such thing as he’s claiming. I don’t even have seductive thaumaturgy.”
“I know that. You know that. Many know that, but it’s our burden to prove in the court of law.” I huffed and pulled out a sticky note of some pestilent yellow variety, as was the professional norm, for some hellforsaken reason.
“I’ll need to see a hell-borne cleric for a letter of attestation for my gifts.” I made a quick note in my slanted, sharp script. The felt-tip pen I preferred scratched so delightfully in the silence.
“I can arrange that.” Father stuck his hands in his pockets, jacket creasing as he crossed his legs.
“Someone neutral, preferably. Perhaps ask for the court’s recommendation.” I made another note.
“I’ll need footage from the stairwell.”
“Are you certain you didn’t, you know? Try anything? He was sporting quite the erection, from what I heard.” Father took a few steps into my office, glancing about judgmentally. “Really should take one of the main offices for some sunlight. You’re too pale. It’s unhealthy.”
I ignored the latter comment. “Quite certain. His mere proximity to me caused revulsion. It was all Gre could do not to fend the male from me territorially.”
“It remains to be seen. I requested footage from that stairwell yesterday. I’d intended on having it by the time you came back, but you’re here early.” Father didn’t seem pleased by it. “Already wanting away from your mate?”
“There was nothing left to do. My belongings were moved in, house organized, rules and budget set. We are already functioning like clockwork. It remains to be seen if we’re a fit, though.” I scratched another note. “A calendar of my estrus…”
I pulled out my new phone and thumbed through my apps to the one that tracked my cycles.
I followed a cycle similar to that of succubi.
Their cycles moved eight months apart as mine did, but theirs usually came in seasons, Hell’s winter.
Mine moved by eight months but was not in the mating seasons of succubi.
“Mine is due in… Two months. Likely, he reacted to my newly mated pheromones. Bodies do strange things when—”
“Strange things when they die, too.” Draevus glared at Ausmius who slid low along the wall, pantomiming being sick and gagging.
“Ausmius, please. The melodramatics aren’t helping my headache.” I waved him off and brought my fingertips to my temple to rub as I ticked down another note.
“He so rarely speaks. He has the capability to. And why the headache? Do I need to call a healer or a physician?” Father hissed at the demon, and he sank into a crack once more.
“He speaks to Gre often. The mage respects him and soothes him like a charmer.” I huffed a laugh. “It looks promising.”
“And yet you’ve made no thought to move in with me or find your own place.
You sidled into his life so willingly. No hesitation.
It looks good to me, Esmeray.” Draevus stood and smiled.
“In any case, the good news is that all the cases but two have been dropped by Lymmings. You and Cornelius Chase Atwood.”
“Who is Mage Atwood?” I thumbed through my files and selected a sheet of paper.
Another hybrid—llama. Body transmogrification.
He was a doctor, a surgeon, and a mage. Quite the combination, but many hospitals wouldn’t hire a hybrid who defaulted to a nonhuman feature.
Too much hair. Unsanitary. I skimmed the document, halting at a comment about being a devout student of the necrollamacon.
My face involuntarily scrunched up. “Disgusting.”
“Hmm?” Father stopped in my doorway, and I extended the paper toward him for a cursory glance, where I tapped my finger.
“Rude. As their legal representatives, we should tell them comments like this are discriminatory. I’ll personally call the Lowell Valley Coven. Were there other comments like this?” Father pulled up his phone and poised to start an email.
“Gre’s file had a note calling him a Neck romancer.” My upper lip twitched, reflecting back at me from the silver sheen of a stapler carrier.
“Neck Romancer.” He mouthed the words as if they tasted bad and wandered out, head shaking. His thumb moved purposefully across his phone screen.
I stared down at my paperwork and sighed, moving to my computer to start the process of covering my own ass and looking into the other hybrid.
It didn’t take me long to review a few documents and find long lists of discussions from members of The Church that had long pages of discussions and anger over his practice due to his focus on body dysmorphia. As a hybrid, himself, the issue likely hit close to home.
“Ausmius?” I glanced over, raising a brow. “What’s your take on this?”
Ausmius raised his head from the crease of the wall and floor and frowned before wilting over limply. He gestured at me to leave the office, shooing at me to go home, pantomiming sleeping and the like.
“I’ve slept plenty. You just want to voyeur and watch Gre and I fool about.”
Ausmius threw his head back and mimed what I thought was a scream until it became apparent it was only an elongated sigh of exasperation.
“I’m eating meat. Gre is giving you wine. What more do you want?” I folded my arms as he gestured and slouched, pushing his stomach out.
“I’m not getting fat.”
He flailed his hands again, pantomimed holding a child.
“Not having a baby, either. It’s not part of my five-year plan. After, we can evaluate.” I glared at him, and he sidled up to the shadow of a filing cabinet and beat his head against it so violently that the cabinet itself rattled.
“No! You can wait for a new host. I don’t have time to train a child to contain you. You can suffer with me until I’m ready.” I took a deep breath and held two fingers up, concentrating my thaumaturgic energies into a flame. “Now, pipe down and let me work or I’ll pin you down.”
Ausmius narrowed his jack-o’-lantern eyes at me and audibly growled in frustration.
“Use your words.” I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a hat pin that I’d borrowed from Gre.
He snarled and sank into the wall, grumbling the entire time.
“Peace and quiet…and calm.” I glared at the thin seam of darkness pooling in the corner like a scolded child. Gre’s trick was amazing.
“Now for paperwork. Boring, calm paperwork. My favorite.” I sighed and settled in before dimming the light in my office to abate my headache and enjoy some peace and solitude.