Chapter 3 #2
I slowly stroked him, careful to keep hold of him, not that he seemed strong enough to leap out of my arms. “He’s so soft.” Where he wasn’t bare. And the poor thing had sores all over.
“Indeed.”
I once more reached out and caught the devil’s sleeve but released him before he pushed me away. “And if something should happen to the rabbit? What happens to our deal?”
His eyes flashed with pity. “The deal would be off, Miss Charles. Discuss the details with Miss Rawley then have your father read it over. Take her to my office for that,” he said to the woman before giving me a polite smile as he edged away.
“I look forward to working with you.” He spun on his heel then, with a twitch of his forked tail, vanished into smoke that smelled like strawberry shampoo and regrets.
So that was the catch. I had to keep this creature alive when he already looked more than half dead. What if he was just a really, really old rabbit that was going to die from old age? Was he really magical or was this a completely lost cause?
I straightened my spine and tightened my grip on the sad rabbit.
This was my chance to have my own bakery and show people what I could do.
Maybe after the devil’s deal fell through, I’d be able to start my own bakery with real funding from a bank.
Not the Granite. Although maybe I could let the goblin king study me in return for a good loan rate.
Lieutenant Sato seemed absolutely trustworthy.
If I could make friends with her… She went to The Cat’s Pause often or she wouldn’t have recommended it to me. And the shop would be right next door…
“Are you ready to look at the contract?” the woman said with zero expression on her face. He was right. She would make a terrible Cheshire cat.
She didn’t look like much in the way of security, either, but looks could be deceiving. Also, “Why is the head of security showing me paperwork? Don’t you have more important things to do?”
She gave me a dead look. As in, I should drop dead.
I clung tighter to the rabbit instead. “Yes. I do have more important things to do, so if you could follow me, I would appreciate it.” And if I didn’t, she’d probably spit on me or rip out my fingernails.
She was in charge of torturing people, not brute force. That made sense for a cat shifter.
She walked with me into the shadows, a trail leading to the castle.
It was tall and shining, like a fairytale castle for marketing purposes, but when we stepped inside, it was much more cozy.
The office had a crackling fire with a pot of steaming hot cocoa on the large table surrounded by comfortable chairs.
The walls were lined with shelves containing objects that seemed an unorganized, jumbled mess.
In other words, it felt more like a kitchen than an office, without the pretentious marketing strategy in the rest of Wonderland.
“Sit,” she said, gesturing at one of the chairs. I sat, still snuggling the rabbit that I had to keep alive, as she dumped the papers in front of me before brushing off her hands. “I’ll go get your father. It’ll take some time to get the feathers off. They were stuck on with honey.”
I stared at her. “Why were the feathers stuck on with honey?”
She rolled her eyes. “Some of the Master’s servants get too creative. They think if something can be done, then it should.”
“Not you. You’re never creative.”
There was a flicker of something dangerous in her eyes.
“Not particularly, no. Read the contract. You may have as much hot cocoa as you like. It won’t hurt you, but it will make you feel less guarded.
Not because there’s anything in it, but because that’s the natural psychological reaction to eating something delicious someone’s given you.
It creates trust. And the chocolate is very delicious. ”
I nodded slowly and frowned when I realized I didn’t have my cake box. That is, I had the empty periwinkle one, but not my second-favorite coral one with the strawberry shortcake inside it. “What happened to my cake? Did I leave it by the pool?”
She gave me another dead look. They were quite intimidating, so I held my rabbit close and tried to think happy thoughts. “He took it. You didn’t notice? He always takes something when he makes a deal.”
“But I haven’t signed the contract.”
“It’s collateral for the conversation. You can’t talk to the devil without him getting something out of it.” She gestured at the shelves. “Never anything he particularly wants, but it’s one of his rules. I don’t know if it’s habit or nature.”
“He took my cake? He didn’t say anything!
That wasn’t part of the deal!” You didn’t just steal people’s pastries!
And it was for Lieutenant Sato, not him.
It wouldn’t be right for him. If I were going to bake something for the devil, it needed to be perfect, but he’d stolen someone else’s magic.
Was I going to cry over something that stupid? Maybe. My baking was important to me.
She blinked at me. “At least if he eats it, it will make him feel less guarded. He’ll be eating with you every day, like the last person who kept his rabbit. That’s a non-negotiable.”
I swallowed and nodded. I wasn’t going to cry. It was just a strawberry shortcake. “What happened to them?” Dealing with the deal was the most important thing.
She shrugged. “What always happens. She died.”
I stiffened. The rabbit didn’t squeak or make any noise, just stayed a limp lump in my arms. He was warm, though, and soft.
“From old age,” she added with the tiniest of smiles. She’d liked scaring me. “The Master has been waiting ever since. People like you don’t come here often.”
“People like me?” Obviously, fairy-goblins weren’t exactly coming out of the cracks.
“People like you,” she repeated with a nod then headed for the door. “Who cuddle things instead of considering how good they’d be for eating. He was pleased you asked him to take care of all your debts. Then you’re only indebted to him. The better to control you.”
My heart beat faster, but I only shrugged. “I’m fairly easy to control. I just want to get along, pay my bills, and bake. And this rabbit is the softest thing. Does the devil really have a positive-sum rule?” Right. Focus on the positive.
“Curse. Yes. He has a lot of things.”
“Do you think he can really protect me from all the things that want to rip me apart, just by being seen with him?”
“No. But your father will also be your bodyguard. He’s terribly vicious when he isn’t being slain by love. Of course he loves you, but that will make him extra vicious in your protection.”
“How did the devil get the positive-sum curse?”
She was answering more questions than I’d expected even though she clearly wanted to leave.
“He traded it for something else. That’s what a devil does.
You make deals with him for something, and give him something in exchange, then someone else makes a deal with him, and he can exchange the two.
He’ll probably pass on the positive-sum curse one day.
Then it’ll be back to business as usual. ”
“He can just pass a curse along? Then why hasn’t he done it already?”
“He likes the curse. It makes him seem more trustworthy. He isn’t.
But you don’t care. You’ve already accepted your fate.
Good. That means less paperwork.” She went out, slamming the door behind her, leaving me alone with the rabbit and the feeling that I was upside down and falling, spinning and spinning and spinning.
I took a deep breath, poured a cup of cocoa into an oversized mug with a chipped rim, and started reading.