Chapter 6
FRANK N. STEIN
“Do you want to explain to me why you’re not working on getting me my money?” I ask. Energy crackles in my palms, and I begin to pace the floor. The desire to kill her is all but consuming.
If I didn’t need her to find where they took my property, she wouldn’t be breathing. Although it’s not incompetence that allowed her to infiltrate my domain, it still rankles, the idea entirely abhorrent that a small human, one I find so unremarkable, is capable of such chaos.
“Where’s my cat?” she demands.
My gaze clashes with hers, alarm spreading at how brazen she is acting until I realize my blunder.
I shove my hands into my suit pockets to keep from killing her outright for not doing what I want immediately.
Insubordination and blatant refusal are two things I don’t abide by within my company walls.
Operations are kept orderly and efficient to alleviate issues and increase the standing of Talbot Global, and anyone found not maintaining their tasks to standard are let go without warning.
This foundational type of cutthroat mentality is what has kept Talbot Global on the top of the world’s leading corporations, and I refuse to allow a simple human to thwart everything I’ve fought to gain.
“Until you make an effort to do my bidding, you’ll not see your cat,” I reply coolly.
My power has been pulsating and abnormal since the breach was found.
It took far too long to find this female to set it to rights.
Far longer than I was willing to accept when first finding out that the most potent magical property of supernatural existence is lost and in the hands of incompetent humans.
I want to end her life, to watch the light dim from her gaze even as the ever increasing need to bring her to heel consumes me.
The petulant way her mouth pouts paired with how eerie the green of her eyes spark when mad makes me feel almost triumphant.
“What you’re asking me to do is illegal,” she hedges.
“Funny that didn’t stop you from doing the exact same illegal act to me.
This isn’t a negotiation; this is an order.
You will do everything Mikael asks of you, or you won’t leave here.
Do I make myself clear?” I ask, shoving the gnawing ball of power building in my sternum down, refusing to give it an outlet.
“I hear you, big guy,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
Red spreads across her cheeks as her gaze passes over me, and her pink tongue sweeps out of her mouth, showcasing a glimpse of a barbell. My brows pinch together as my lip curls in derision.
“I’ll agree to your terms, and I’ll do what you want, but I’m not touching a computer until I have Edgar in my hands. I want my cat,” she repeats, tossing her arms over her chest in a determined manner.
My posture goes rigid as my body stiffens in an attempt to hold back at the challenge, my pulse skating as the already present rage roiling inside of me reaches a new height.
All this fucking woman seems to care about is her cat, which is why I sent for the damn thing earlier, but she needs make haste.
“So, you’ve said repeatedly. You want your cat back, and I need you to get my things back.
Perhaps we could make a deal so that you can do what I brought you here to do, hmm?
” I find myself saying. The volatile levels of current coursing through my body have the hair of my arms raising as the static electricity I naturally produce increases, as it does every time I withhold my baser self.
An idea forms. I’ll give her cat over and do what I must to get the moonflower formula back. After that it will be fun breaking this woman. Even now she glares, contrasting with every other being that has been in her position since my creation. No one dares to challenge me.
“Okay I’m listening,” she says, a gleam of mirth around the shape of her mouth.
Passably pretty at a second glance, the soft cheeks of her face give her a cherub-like countenance, and the pert tip of her nose completes her haughty look.
Her red hair has at least been set to rights, complementing the bright green of her eyes, but she isn’t fooling anyone. She’s only playing docile.
I assess her once more and see her in a whole new light, the shrewdness of her gaze giving her away. She would take me for a fool and have me believe her innocent, but you can’t fake the level of mischievousness that practically emanates from her being. She thinks to outwit me, I’m sure of it.
The harder I glare, the more innocent her facade becomes, as if she’s some sort of chameleon attempting to hide how troublesome and hardheaded she so clearly is. My vision narrows as I squint at the bright red beacon of ginger hair on her head.
I am about to destroy you.
For the first time in probably a century, a true smile tugs at the corners of my lips. This will no doubt prove entertaining. She’ll no doubt reach out to her handler the moment she’s given enough room to do it, and when she does, we’ll know where to attack.