Chapter 36
Chapter
Thirty-Six
I need a game plan.
Kate sat uncomfortably at the large glass desk, looking out at the Bay.
She’d thought about staying away, but really, what was the point?
To figure out her next step, she needed answers, and this was the only place she could think of to get any.
Thomas appeared to need her, and he seemed genuinely sorry that he’d dragged her into this mess.
He had technically saved her life, even if he’d damned her soul.
Which was confusing enough to think about.
She figured she’d talk to Thomas to start.
He was the king of avoidance when it came to real, pertinent details about the soul signing situation, so that was probably going to be an informational war of attrition.
Besides, if she couldn’t get Prue’s help, or Nan’s, there was no one else she could talk to.
Her parents’ financial woes hadn’t miraculously disappeared either, so she’d need to actually treat this like a job, one she was quite literally in an unbreakable contract to carry out.
Now, she was hanging out like an underdressed corporate squatter in the cavernous office Ginny had angrily dumped her in, and waiting wasn’t exactly her strong suit.
Admittedly, Kate had never paid too much attention to her mom’s lectures, but if the stoic woman had emphasized anything, it was that when a crisis strikes, you do what you would have been doing anyway.
As a result, after loitering for half an hour, she went down to the basement.
It occurred to her that the guys handled the contracts all the time. Maybe they’d signed their souls over, too, she thought. Of course, she seemed immune even before signing. Maybe they were, too? Maybe it wasn’t as unusual as Nan Temper had made it seem.
“Kate, you’re here,” Slim said, and she jumped, surprised out of her thoughts. “We heard that you had received a new job with Mr. Kestrel. The Overseer doubted you would return.”
He sounded and looked happy to see her. She smiled back in response. “How’s it going?”
“We are down to the last name,” he said with a mixture of pride and sadness. “I think our contract assignment will close quite soon. I’m pleased you came down before we had to go back.”
Slim was a good guy. He’d always been nice to her, and though she’d probably never admit it, he was her favorite.
It suddenly occurred to Kate that he probably knew lots of stuff she didn’t.
What’s more, he might not mind telling her.
“I don’t suppose I can take you out for coffee, or anything,” she ventured.
He blinked, his Adam’s apple bouncing like a fishing bobber. “No, no. Our contract is quite specific. We are limited to this building.”
“This building, huh?” She thought of the café in the lobby. “But you could go upstairs?”
He stared, and she swore he started to sweat. “That is probably not a good idea.”
“But you could,” she pressed. If she was going to have this conversation, she didn’t want Al around, and to her knowledge the troll-like guy never left the basements if he could help it.
Which brought up another question—what was Al, anyway?
Slim swallowed hard, his expression a mix of wariness and interest. “Technically, I suppose I could. It is within the bounds of my contract, although I doubt it was ever considered.”
“C’mon.” Kate was already beelining to the elevator before he could change his mind, dragging him along. She wondered briefly if he was claustrophobic, as he seemed to go paler when the elevator doors closed, but his fascination with the glowing floor number screen quickly distracted him.
Fortunately, it wasn’t lunchtime or close to closing, so the lobby was relatively empty. Slim glanced out of the elevator like a scared rabbit.
“Let’s go in here,” she said, tugging him toward the scent of rich coffee and heated pastries.
It was in the Fiendish building, so it was a step above the usual coffee shop that Kate was used to in most office buildings she’d temped at—but despite the décor, it was still a lunch dive.
Marco, the café owner, grunted his usual hello.
She grabbed two Yoo-hoos out of the fridge and plunked money on the counter.
The tables were empty except for one of the guys from the mailroom, who was softly singing Bruce Springsteen to himself with earbuds in.
Marco got on the phone and started having a loud conversation in what sounded like Persian.
Satisfied that it was as private as she could manage, Kate sat across the small table from Slim, who was staring around like a kid in a toy store. “You don’t get out much, do you?”
“Hmmm?” He shook his head as she unscrewed the cap on his milk bottle. “Not really, no. When I get taken for contract work, I don’t tend to interact much with humans.”
“Humans,” she repeated softly. “You don’t interact much with humans on your assignments.”
“Well, considering,” he said, goggling at the cold case, specifically the yogurts. “Most demons are supposed to stay confined.”
She goggled for a second before getting her shit together. “Demons. Right.” She paused. “Like the other guys in the basement, right?”
“Yes. Contracted demons,” he agreed, nodding absently.
So Slim… is a demon.
She stared, cataloging his every feature. They didn’t look markedly different, but then, she didn’t know what a demon was supposed to look like. She assumed they were supposed to look more otherworldly and grotesque, less like guys who did mixed martial arts in octagon cages.
Or maybe that made perfect sense. What the hell did she know?
I should ask Prue.
Oh, right. Prue wasn’t talking to her.
He finally noticed her quiet shock, and his expression turned regretful. “You didn’t know, did you?”
She shook her head.
“Are you frightened?” He sounded mournful, like an orphan being kicked out of a happy home. “Should I return to the basement? I’m sorry.”
“No! No. It shouldn’t be a problem. I mean, you’re not going to eat anyone, are you?” It hadn’t occurred to her that that was an option. Not with Slim, anyway.
He shot a quick glance at Marco and the mail guy, then shook his head again.
“No. You have managed to make sure we’re quite well fed, and even if I wasn’t—no.
Simply no.” He sighed heavily. “But I have not known many humans who decide to speak to…my kind. Or risk exposing my kind to others of their kind, unless they deliberately wish to cause violence and mayhem.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, the question unsaid.
It took her a second to see what he was getting at.
“Oh, God no! Nope. Not in the market for mayhem today,” she said, and he grinned, seemingly relieved.
She bit her lip, trying to figure out where to start.
“I just need information. I know what Thomas is up to, but I don’t understand why.
And now that I’m signed, I feel like I need to know what I’m in for. ”
“Ah.” He nodded. “That does make sense. I will tell you what I can. What sort of questions do you have?”
She blinked, then took a swig of chocolate milk.
“I hadn’t actually thought that far into it,” she admitted.
“I didn’t even know I was coming in to work until this morning, and I didn’t know I was going to boost you until about five minutes ago.
I’m kind of flying blind here, and you were the first pers—um, the first guy I could think of who might help. ”
He followed her example, taking a sip, then smiled appreciatively at the chocolate milk. “You are a good person,” he murmured. “I suppose you want to know what kind of demon I am, to start with.”
“There are kinds?”
He smiled. “Yes, Kate. There are kinds.”
“Oh. Okay,” she said, feeling dumb. “So what kind are you? And why does that matter?”
“I am an Ammonite demon,” he said, sipping at the milk. “All of us downstairs, your ‘Basement Boys,’ are. That means we aren’t tied.”
“Tied? To what?” Kate wished she’d brought a notepad. This was bound to be complicated. Maybe she’d Google it when she got home.
“Sorry, not tied. Affiliated. With a demon lord. We—” He closed his eyes, as if struggling. “We are not in the hierarchy. They call us rogues.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “That’s a good thing, right? The term ‘demon lords’ sounds fairly nasty, so if you’re not in with that bunch, I assume you’re okay. Comparatively speaking.”
He shook his head. “Many of us are rejects, seen as too weak to be used as anything but pawns in battle. Cattle fodder.”
“Cannon, I think you mean,” she corrected. “And yikes. What wars?”
“Demon lords battle constantly in the underworld,” he said. “Every century, there is an Accounting. The Demon lord with the most power crushes those who are lesser. The battles are…” He shuddered, and while he didn’t say anything, she noticed he looked nauseous.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, unsure of what else to say. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He tilted his head as he studied her. “You know where demons come from, do you not?”
She shrugged. “I was guessing Hell?”
He frowned. “So many of you know so little about what happened before,” he mused. “But it was a long time ago. Do you know of the war in Heaven?”
“Yeah, that one I know.” She’d managed to retain that much before getting expelled from Catholic school. Twice. “Angels rebelled. Lucifer made a bid for the throne or something…”
“Dark days.” Slim’s eyes were shadowed—literally, like a cloud going over the sun.
“You were there?”
He nodded. “I was one who chose poorly, yes. I listened to the rhetoric. I swelled with pride. And I resented the puny humans and their free will.” He looked at her apologetically. “No offense.”
“Hey, none taken. Trust me, I’m the queen of bad decisions.
I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.
” Besides, the guy probably had centuries in Hell to think that one over.
If anything, she’d probably be pretty bitter if she were him, so the fact that he was able to be somewhat positive about the whole thing was encouraging.
“But once we were cast down, we duplicated the choirs, re-established a hierarchy. And fought each other. It has been…” He shuddered. “Pray you never know the extent of those horrors, Kate.”
She swallowed hard, pushing the chocolate milk away and wishing she’d picked a more appropriate beverage. Like Pepto Bismol. “That does bring up a point. My soul’s signed over. Does that mean I become a demon or something? How does that work?”
“No, no,” he said. “Human souls are valuable. They are hoarded by the demon lords. They are…” He waved his hand, as if searching for the word.
“Soldiers? Weapons?”
“Currency.” He finished the milk. “The demon lord with the most souls, and the most powerful souls, is the one who wins the Accounting.”
“They have to come up with a better name,” she muttered. “That sounds like a big, bloody IRS audit.”
He stared at her quizzically, and she shook her head.
“Never mind. So, if I, um, die…?”
“Your soul will be the property of the one who signed you,” Slim said. “And if he dies, on to the one who signed him.”
So Thomas signed his soul, too. That explained a little bit, like how he was able to sign her soul.
“Total pyramid scheme,” Kate mused.
“All the way up to the demon lord who signed the original human and sent him out,” Slim agreed.
“Is there any way to break the contract?”
He frowned. “It is nearly impossible, but it does happen.”
Hope lit in her chest. “How?”
“The one who signed you has to—”
“Kate,” Thomas’s voice interrupted. Sharply. “I didn’t know you were on a coffee break.”
Then he took one look at Slim, and his eyes widened.
Kate swallowed hard. Of course Thomas would choose now to show up. And find her here, kidnapping a demon from the basement and plying him with chocolate milk to pump him for information.
Ah, crap.