Chapter 7
For the first time all week, I woke up with the sun.
I wasn’t sure what to expect working as Cillian’s assistant, but I wanted to be ready for when Amelia summoned me.
Energy flowed through me at the prospect of being able to focus on something again.
My entire life, I’d been goal-oriented, unable to stay still unless I was reading, digesting information, helping archive dusty tomes.
At least if I could find some purpose, this situation might not feel as confining, as restricting.
Even if I was still a prisoner.
I slipped out of bed, and a thump sounded as the book I’d been reading hit the floor.
This one—Forbidden Desires—had appeared like the other one, and was a romance between demons of different class stations, whose system was a bit different from ours, based on ancestry and the type of horn they possessed.
Not that I’d scrutinized demon horns often, but apparently the black polished type that arced up like Cillian’s indicated a higher station.
I slipped into a pressed button-down and slacks and then into neat black business shoes that probably cost more than most of my wardrobe back home. After running some product through my hair, I was ready.
A knock rapped at my door.
I opened it and found Amelia waiting on the other side with a coffee in one hand and a laptop bag in the other.
“You’ll be taking your notes electronically. Do you need to be debriefed on those skills before the first meeting?”
I shook my head. Between my library sciences degree and my time working at the library, it was a tool I’d used often. “I’m fine on that front.”
“And for you.” She offered over the coffee, which I accepted gratefully.
My three favorite things in the world were coffee, cats, and books, and I’d been sorely missing all three.
Despite being able to find meals in the kitchen, I hadn’t figured out how to use a lot of the fancy-ass equipment, like the coffee maker, and I didn’t want to risk breaking anything.
“Thank you,” I said, clutching the warm paper cup close. I took a sip, and the sweet, creamy coffee coursed through my veins like sunlight. “Damn, where did you get this from?”
“Downstairs. The café in the casino,” she said. “Which is where we’ll be heading for this meeting.”
Excitement prickled through my veins. “You trust me out on the floor like that?”
She lifted a brow. “Planning on running? You won’t get far.”
Her words were cryptic, but I had to remember she was a witch.
Chances were, she had a spell in place I wasn’t even aware of.
Locator spells were a dime a dozen in that community, so she’d probably popped a witchy LoJack on me.
The chance to go downstairs shot pure adrenaline through my veins.
Even though I was stuck inside the Spires, this offered the chance for something different, and I’d cling to it.
The elevator lay at the end of the corridor, the bane of my existence up until now, because I’d stared at the way to my freedom while being blocked from it.
Amelia snagged a key card from her pocket and held it in front of the fob.
A green light blinked on, and the elevator doors opened.
When we got into the elevator, she used her fingerprint on a pad, and then the buttons with the floors lit up. I locked every detail into my memory.
So even if I stole the card, I’d still need a fingerprint to escape. Damnit.
The elevator moved with a whoosh, and giddiness soared through me at getting to escape the confines of the upper areas of the Spires, even if I was still trapped in this casino. Amelia passed over the laptop bag, and I slung it over my shoulder.
“Needed coffee that badly?” she commented, a slight smirk on her lips. She might be my father’s age, but she was far sharper than him—probably far more dangerous too.
“Absolutely. Would it be possible for someone to show me how to use the contraption in the kitchen?” I took another delicious sip, savoring it.
“Of course. Damn, we really didn’t know what to do with you,” she murmured. “Trust me, we haven’t had a personal assistant in a long while.”
“Why now?” I asked.
Amelia’s gaze darkened. “Suppose Cillian’s changed his mind.”
“On what?”
The elevator doors opened, but instead of answering, Amelia left me with more questions.
Of course. That seemed to be the modus operandi of everyone here.
I should be annoyed, but the burst of color and general hubbub around the casino stole my attention.
Even this early in the morning, people were standing by the slots, gambling their life savings away, humans and monsters alike.
Had my father been gambling? Did he have debt?
Or had he been charged for something he didn’t do?
I’d tried to ask via text, but he’d just stated he was unfairly accused. What for, he hadn’t clarified. With the number of cryptic answers I’d received over the last week, I was desperate for any clarity.
“Over here,” Amelia said, leading me past the high-roller tables.
There weren’t too many patrons clustering around them at this time of day, but the dim lighting from frosted sconces, the rich red and yellow carpeting, and the polished mahogany tables and detail all created a lush picture.
Far different from the overly black décor in Cillian’s “lair.”
Amelia bypassed the room for an ornate door in the back right corner.
When she tugged it open, a huge official-looking room stretched out before us, just as rich as the high-roller area and with more of the same motifs.
This room had bookshelves filled with old leatherbound books along the wall, though, and brass fixtures that glowed under the yellowed lighting.
Runes I recognized as demonic from the books I’d read were painted along the wall in decoration, though I didn’t have a hope of deciphering their meaning.
“Cillian will be sitting here,” she said, gesturing to the head of the table, as per usual. I withheld my eye roll as she gestured to the seat next to him. “And you’ll be there, mostly because it’ll piss off Chadwick.”
I arched a brow. “There’s someone actually named Chadwick?”
She shrugged. “Who can fathom the whims of the wealthy?”
“Ah, my assistant’s arrived before me?” The rich voice sent a shock of electricity through me, and I looked up to see none other than the asshole in charge.
Cillian was in full boss mode again today, a gleam to his obsidian horns, and his suit a tailored charcoal one that fit him like a glove.
Everything he wore accentuated how large he was, and a shiver rolled down my spine again.
His jaw was sharp and defined, his dark brows wicked, and his black hair was tamed and swept to the side.
Even in the genteel clothes he wore, there was no denying the man’s predatorial nature, and I could guarantee even this shareholder meeting would be interesting.
“I take my work seriously,” I responded, looking him in the eyes and lifting my chin. I couldn’t afford to show this asshole weakness.
A slow smile curled his lips, the sort that made my gut simmer.
Those fangs poked out again, and I straightened, irritation welling inside me.
The man might be gorgeous, but I wasn’t swayed when it came to arrogant pricks.
I’d dealt with them my whole life, and he was just another to toss onto the stack.
“Good,” he said, his voice low and sensual. “I’m looking forward to putting you to work.”
Fuck him. Even as my anger flared, the pulse in my groin was undeniable. Because as much as I hated it, I had my own secret fantasies, ones I’d never admit to. Ones I wasn’t sure I even wanted fulfilled. I sucked in a sharp breath.
This was my captor.
The reminder delivered the ice water I needed, dousing any complications.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Amelia said. “Contact me when the meeting’s over.” She glanced between Cillian and me. Right. So that she could return me to my cage.
I didn’t bother responding, just settled into the seat with my coffee and then extracted the laptop from the bag.
Once I got it started, a bolt of normalcy shuddered through me, something I’d been craving for so long.
The idea of just settling behind the keys, losing myself in typing and notes, sounded like total bliss right now.
Silence spread between us because the man was as sociable as a kumquat.
“Any preferences for the notes?” I asked as I opened the software on the laptop.
“Most of what my business partners have to say is drivel. They don’t understand the inner workings of the Spires, and the way they run their casinos repulses me.”
What a gem this guy was. It was a marvel that anyone showed up to these meetings in the first place. I shook my head, continuing to stare at the screen.
“Holding back?” he asked, his voice low with a dangerous edge. “How unlike you.”
“How’s there any room for your business partners when your ego’s taking up all the space?” I commented dryly as I set a header for today’s notes.
His chuckle reverberated through the room. “Careful, Beau, unless you want to find out if the rumors about me are true.”
Even though a frisson of fear trickled through me, I stared him square in those golden eyes. “Well, if you dispose of me, you’ll be out one hell of a personal assistant.”
“That remains to be seen.” He settled at the head of the table, dripping pure arrogance.
And I had to sit beside him for the next three hours.
I swallowed another gulp of coffee to protect my sanity.
***
“The upper areas are a waste of prime real estate,” Frederick, one of the owners of Red’s Casino, spoke up. While I agreed they were a waste, I didn’t think the space needed to become yet another hotel or casino. We could do so much more, something productive for the denizens of Peregrine City.
“What I do with the upper areas of the building I own is none of your damn business,” Cillian growled, as sociable and charming as ever. He’d been surly and disagreeable throughout the entire meeting with just about everyone at the table. Why did he even bother entertaining them?
“You know Thorin’s expanding his territory here. It won’t be long before the Spires loses its steady stream of clientele. He’s going to make a grab at installing more of his people in the Pits too,” Chadwick complained.
Cillian’s brows drew together, his gaze stormy. “What do I give a damn about Thorin? Let him try to press in on this space.”
“The rest of us are concerned,” Frederick said. “You might have the reputation of being ‘The Beast,’ but that will only go so far.”
Most of these men were human and older, though a vampire and a naga sat at the table as well.
It was refreshing to see the variety, though it made sense that a demon like Cillian would include other monsters in the mix.
While Cillian was as stubborn and unyielding as the rest of them, I could admit the whole meeting felt a bit pointless.
Still, my notes were detailed yet succinct, and I utilized necessary bullet point lists and summaries for each section.
We’d paused for breakfast when it had been delivered, which had resolved my question about food, and I’d even been able to refresh my coffee.
The buffet had contained a variety of pastries and fruit, including the usual danishes and croissants, but the inclusion of saltwater tarts—a New Atlantis delicacy—for the naga, and blood biscuits for the vampire, was surprisingly considerate.
“We need to wind this meeting down,” Cillian said. “Our time’s almost up, and I have other matters to address.”
A few of the guys bristled, annoyed at the way Cillian dismissed them, but the others heaved a sigh, as if they were used to his rudeness and also eager for the meeting to end.
I made some quick readjustments to the notes I’d taken while the guys made a few more attempts at pushing their agendas, which Cillian promptly blocked.
I tucked away the name Thorin, though, curious as to why he’d elicited such a strong reaction.
In this mode, digesting information, I operated at my greatest function, and I felt the best I had since I’d first agreed to take my father’s place.
“Since you’ve got better help now, can we get a copy of the notes your assistant’s been taking?” Chadwick asked.
I withheld my lip curl, barely. These men treated me like I didn’t exist, which told me everything I needed to know about their merit. “I can provide copies,” I announced, stepping in without invitation.
Cillian arched a brow at me, and I arched one back at him. If he wanted a docile, submissive thing, he’d picked the wrong man.
He turned and stared down at the group still at the table. “You heard him. If you want notes, send an email. This meeting is concluded, so see yourselves out.”
Wow, what a charmer. I saved the notes and shut off the programs before powering down the laptop.
Rustling sounded all around me as everyone started to meander out, some leaving and others chatting with each other in quieter tones.
Cillian remained seated next to me, as looming and ominous as ever.
I slipped my laptop into my bag and rose, and he did as well.
“Come with me,” he rumbled, his tone brooking no argument.
“A please wouldn’t hurt,” I responded, not bothering to sheathe my tongue.
The intensity of his stare almost caused my limbs to betray me, my legs quivering, but I held my own.
“I’m not begging you to do the job you were hired for,” Cillian responded, pushing up and heading toward the door.
I chewed on my lower lip, tasting blood, but followed.
As much as he was insufferable and arrogant, I didn’t want to sent straight back upstairs. If I could extend my time down here, I’d claim every damn second.
And eventually, I’d claim my freedom.