Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Thomas went still as a statue, stunned by the sledgehammer impact of Kate’s question. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
She stared, her green-eyed gaze slicing at him like an emerald scalpel. “You do know about them,” she breathed. “You really know.”
He grabbed her arm before she could storm away. “You need to tell me what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice low and stern.
She didn’t step away. Instead she moved closer, eyes blazing. “No, you need to let go of me,” she countered. “Right now.”
He let go. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely shaken. She’d shocked him, no question, but was he so far gone that he was going to physically threaten a woman now? “Come to my office. Let’s talk about this.”
“I’m not going anywhere private with you.” She glanced around, as if for help. Bodies were jostling past them—people going through security to get in or filing out for the end of the day. Even though it provided good cover noise, they were starting to attract attention.
“Then come over here,” he muttered, herding her into a corner of the lobby, by a large potted plant and a burbling water fountain. “Talk to me. What’s wrong? What do you mean, specifically, about the guys in the basement?”
She took a deep breath. “There are workers in the basement. They’re going through these thousands of documents…”
His stomach tightened like a hangman’s noose.
“You’re a fucking trafficker. Those guys don’t get breaks.
They don’t get food. And if they don’t find what you want, they get tortured.
” Her voice shook. “They’re being treated like animals.
Worst of all, they know that no one will listen to them, and if anyone tries to help them, they’ll be killed. ”
“Is that what they told you?”
“They didn’t have to,” she shot back, righteous fury flooding her entire expression. “And now, I’ll bet you’re thinking of how to handle me. If you’re not, you probably should be, because I’m not letting you treat those guys this way. Do you hear me? I’m not letting you get away with this!”
He couldn’t help it. He let out a tired laugh.
Of all the things that could have happened to her down there—truly horrifying things—she’d managed to come away wanting to set up a rescue mission and some kind of humanitarian movement.
For demons.
“You think it’s funny?”
“It really isn’t what you think,” he said, his mind racing for a more plausible explanation. “They’re… prisoners. From a work exchange program.” Which was kind of true, from a certain point of view.
“You realize that doesn’t make it better,” she muttered. “But even so—seriously? You expect me to believe that?”
He forced a wide, easy smile. “You’re right. It’s much easier to believe that they’re trafficked guys that I’m torturing and starving.”
She screwed up her face, but at least her expression shifted a tiny bit.
He slowly took in her disheveled appearance, the tear at her shoulder seam, where her sleeve had nearly been torn off from the looks of it. “Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head, but he could see that something had happened. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine,” she said, a little too quickly. Then her eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask? Why do you assume they hurt me? Who are they?”
“They’re violent offenders. They’ve hurt people before,” he said, which was true enough. They were from Hell, after all. “Damn it, Kate, you shouldn’t have been down there.”
“It’s a long story. I misunderstood where I was supposed to be… Listen, it doesn’t matter. I’ve been working with these guys for about four days, and…”
“Four days?” he goggled. “And you’re still alive?”
“Very funny,” she said, obviously thinking he was joking. “They don’t get food or water. They’re going to get beaten. I don’t care if they are prisoners, violent offenders, whatever. What’s going on down there is inhumane!”
He crossed his arms. “You led your local chapter of Amnesty International in high school, didn’t you?”
Her responding glare was arctic. “So what they did justifies what happens to them, huh?”
“How’d you tear your shirt, Kate?” he returned quietly. “Think that guy deserves better treatment?”
She looked away.
His cell phone started ringing wildly. The tone signaled it was an alarm call. He glanced at it.
Problems in the basement. A text, from Yagi. Looks like a riot. Need you here ASAP.
“Damn it,” he said. “Kate, I need to handle this. Wait right here for me, all right? Don’t go anywhere. I want to talk to you about this.”
“I’m done talking with you about this,” she said. “You obviously think what’s going on down there, to those prisoners, is fine. You don’t care if they get hurt or killed as long as they find your precious contracts.”
His jaw dropped. “What did you say?”
“And you know what’s worse? It’s completely, painfully ineffective,” she spat out, slinging her heavy bag over her shoulder.
“I found one of those damned things in less than eight hours, without even knowing the language. A guy named Victor Klauss. You don’t need prisoners—or whatever they are—going through everything manually.
You’ve got all the money in the free world, and you’re cutting corners, abusing workers to… ”
“What do you mean, you found one?” His cell phone blared again, and he ignored it. He reached out, grabbing her arms. “When? How?”
She stared at him. Then, in one quick movement, she slammed the bag hard into his stomach.
He wasn’t expecting it, and whatever else was in that bag was damned heavy. He let out a grunt, stumbling back… right into the fountain.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, oblivious to the people staring. “I am over getting grabbed today!”
The water soaked his suit. “Kate, don’t…”
“I don’t have to listen to you, boss. Ginny already fired me.”
She stormed out the door, black ponytail bouncing like a whip. The security guards stared at him. He thought about having them stop her, but he’d caused enough of a scene. Dripping wet, he headed for the elevator.
When the doors opened at the basement level, he found all hell, no pun intended, had broken loose. Workers were fighting each other viciously, knocking papers everywhere.
Al stepped forward, holding up his cane. Yagi, the bodyguard, was waiting for him.
“I could dispatch some,” he said, “but Aloyshus claims he can handle it.”
Thomas crossed his arms. Water dripped on the concrete floor.
Al swung his cane, and the room was suddenly filled with a sickly green light. Thomas and Yagi flinched. The workers, on the other hand, writhed on the ground, making mewling sounds of intense pain.
After a few interminable moments, the light dissipated. “What caused this?” Al roared.
They didn’t speak.
Al scowled, then hobbled back to Thomas. “Their contracts didn’t stipulate they couldn’t fight with each other,” he said, and for the first time ever, the old codger looked embarrassed. “I can’t believe I left that loophole in. Must be getting old, huh?”
“There was a woman working down here,” Thomas said sharply.
Al rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Ginny’s fault. That woman’s a fool and a menace, Thomas. The temp’s lucky she didn’t get accidentally killed.” His expression grew sly. “Of course, with what she’s seen, maybe you should make sure that she’s deliberately killed with a minimum of fuss.”
When Thomas scowled at him, Al simply shrugged.
“Not that it matters,” Al added. “With that sort of prolonged exposure to the contracts, she’s probably dying anyway.”
“She managed four days around them with no apparent symptoms. And she found one of the signatories, Al,” Thomas ground out, his jaw clenching. “She found one.”
Al stared at him. “That’s not possible.”
Thomas looked at the workers. Most were cowering in fear of Al. But one looked at him, then away, a guilty expression on his face.
“You. Get up.” Thomas walked over to the demon. “You know about this?”
“Kate was just trying to help us,” the tall, lanky demon said, standing up and towering over Thomas. His voice was surprisingly gentle. “She just wanted to help.”
“Shut up!” Another stocky, thick-necked worker stepped forward, tearing off a table leg. The thing crashed down, sending paper flying out like a blizzard.
He swung the table leg at the skinny demon, who dodged. The other demons quickly moved away, giving them a fighting space.
The thick-necked demon was still shrieking, swinging his makeshift club. Thomas let out an exasperated huff—then stepped between them, just as the stocky guy took a roundhouse flail.
It stopped inches from Thomas’s face.
“You can’t hit me, remember?” Thomas said coldly. “Physically impossible. It’s in your contract.”
The demon was still glaring when Yagi moved like a ghost behind him. His blade plunged into the demon’s back before he could react.
His howl dissipated as he exploded into flame, disintegrating into ash.
Thomas looked around. The other demons were staring at the pile of dust where the demon’s body had been. Then he focused on the skinny guy, the only one ignoring the steaming remains of his co-worker. The only one bold enough to look him in the eye.
“You’re going to tell me what you know about Kate,” Thomas said, “You’re going to tell me about the signatory she found. And you’re going to tell me right now.”