Chapter 12 #2
Before I had a chance to reply, the Devil’s cell rang. With a wicked smile, he put the phone on my desk, accepted the call, and tapped the icon to switch it to speaker. “Lucifer speaking.”
“I surely have the wrong number,” Mr. Mortani spluttered.
“Oh, no, Mr. Mortani, I assure you, you have the correct number. You are calling me about Crystal Culling.”
“She works for the Devil?”
The blurted words, full of shock and consternation, put me on edge. On their cat tree, my kittens stirred, and their little heads turned to regard the phone, their ears twisted back.
At my feet, a warm and fuzzy body pressed close, and I could feel her purr.
I suspected the tiny beast did her best to comfort me.
“I am currently a liaison for her actual employer, Mr. Durant.”
“I do not know that name.”
“That is quite all right, most mortals do not. Mr. Durant is an older name for the dragon who paid Georgia a visit a while back. He was in need of a mortal caretaker, and Miss Culling was selected. Her neighbors call it sacrificed, as the job is not precisely voluntary, but she is the best person for the position. I must compliment you on your training of her; she is simply spectacular at handling executive level affairs.”
“I need to hire her back,” Mr. Mortani announced.
I had to give the man credit; he had more courage than sense to speak to the Devil in such a fashion, especially during a negotiation.
I wondered how Lucifer would handle the man’s disrespect.
When I had been in the company’s employ, I had ignored the comments, the looks, and the jeering and leering.
I’d pretended enduring harassment hadn’t been a daily burden.
I’d worked to leach away as much money from their coffers and into mine as possible.
In retrospect, working for the Destroyer of Georgia counted as an improvement.
I hadn’t been eaten, I was paid well, and I was treated with respect.
Things could be far worse.
My femur could have been stripped of meat, broken, and used as a toothpick.
Lucifer stared at me, shook his head, and rolled his eyes.
I couldn’t blame him for his reaction, although I felt justified for my opinion.
“You would have to at least match the Destroyer of Georgia’s opening offer, which is substantial.” Lucifer went on to relay the basic offer I’d been given along with the working conditions.
Mr. Mortani spluttered. “That is ridiculous! She is not worth nearly that much.”
Of course. I suspected the numbers pitched had been from desperation and that they would do their best to demote me and lower my pay. I wrinkled my nose at the commentary, but as Lucifer had asked me to stay quiet, I obeyed.
“She is worth far more than that. If you would like her to train a new secretary for you, that will not be an issue. I am certain we can come to a private arrangement regarding additional compensation for her work. She gave you sufficient warning about her departure for her to train and acclimate a replacement to handle her responsibilities. It is not her fault that there were issues with her replacement.”
“Her replacement committed suicide.”
I tensed, and all four of my kittens issued soft hisses. Fortunately, it did not seem that Mr. Mortani heard the animals.
While I’d been available to train a replacement, I’d been told one of the other secretaries would be taking over my responsibilities. Had someone actually committed suicide? Why?
I could understand the why; I’d endured some dark times over the years, but I had refused to give up. Having survived a brush with death, I shied away from even the thought of suicide. The instant Lucifer had expressed concerns about Ashley, I’d taken it seriously.
Once upon a time, I’d heard a psychiatrist comment about how sometimes, all someone needed was someone else reaching out and offering a stick. I’d questioned the stick part of things. What use could a stick be?
Then I’d realized the stick could be anything, be it holding a door, acknowledging someone, wishing somebody a good day, or even going over to somebody’s house with a few extra eggs. Company on an errand hadn’t been on my radar before, but it would become a tool in my arsenal down the road.
Someone had died, and it wasn’t just a someone.
It was someone I had known and worked with.
“I see. Please send the pertinent details of what you need in a secretary to my phone. I’ll be blunt with you, Mr. Mortani.
You can’t afford Miss Culling, not now. She has moved on from your business, and she has been given the opportunities she has earned and deserved.
I recommend you accept my offer of assistance on training a replacement secretary.
It is a good one, and it won’t cost you anything more than fair wages for the future employee and compensating Miss Culling.
Do think about it. I do have an important meeting I must attend to, but I will be keeping an eye out for your texts with your requirements. ”
Lucifer hung up.
I mustered my courage and asked, “Who died?”
“Her name was Belinda.”
My heart hurt at the answer, and I put some serious thought into crying over the sweet woman. She’d been a few years older than me, had worked hard, and had handled secretarial tasks for a small section of the marketing department. “That’s terrible.”
“Her soul is at peace,” Lucifer informed me.
That was something. Of everyone I had worked with there, Belinda deserved peace, but she had deserved peace in life, not in death. “Was she driven to suicide?”
“She had been, yes.”
Somehow, I would make those motherfuckers pay. “Was Mr. Mortani involved?”
“Yes, as were most of the upper management at the company. Upon their mortal expiration, I’ll have to open a raffle for them so the ladies can correct them in the dungeon. It will be brutal, especially if they find out the full extent of their crimes.”
I pushed my chair away from my desk enough I could scoop my little white kitten up, and I put her on my shoulder to cuddle with her.
“Perhaps you could make a suggestion to Mr. Durant to make himself useful and investigate the company. With different management, I’m sure it would be quite profitable for him.
And little appeals more to me right now than becoming the downfall of that lot. Belinda deserved better.”
“She did. She had no next of kin, so there has not been a funeral for her yet. Her body is still at the morgue.”
I stiffened. “How long has she been there?”
“She suicided three days ago.”
“Handle the paperwork for me, Lucifer. I’ll take care of her estate and make funeral arrangements.
” I’d spoken to Belinda numerous times, and several years ago, after a co-worker had been killed in a car crash, we’d discussed what we had wanted done with our bodies after death.
“I know what she wants done with her remains.”
“You do,” Lucifer confirmed in a gentle voice. “Her soul sleeps, and she would never know, you know.”
I considered him, and after a few moments, I understood what he angled for.
He wished to see my true colors.
“She won’t, but I will. Sure, the paperwork will be a beast, the journey itself will be long and tedious, but at least I can find a horse likely capable of carrying me. Think Death is up for that climb?”
Lucifer laughed. “I know he is, as are the other horses, and they can walk over the snow without even leaving footprints. I will make the arrangements so her body can be transported, and you can take her on one last adventure before releasing her ashes and securing her peace. I recommend that you wait until you have finished your races, and then you go with nobody else being the wiser. You are already registering to take time off to rest after the conclusion of the Triple Crown, so slipping away will be of no issue. Belinda can wait that long.”
She could, so I nodded my agreement. “Very well. You will need to handle the permits for transporting human remains, my visas, and transit. I’ll take care of begging the horses for their help.”
“No begging will be required, I assure you. They value what you mean to do deeply—and we have our ways of making certain souls like her understand that they were cherished beyond their deaths. That final gesture will be an excellent conclusion to her long journey, and it will be the true start of yours. Do take care when Mr. Mortani calls you back. He will not be pleased, and he will attempt to plant the same seeds that brought Belinda to her knees and left her without the strength to rise. You are cut from a different cloth, but should that seed be nurtured, it will leave scars, the kind you cannot heal solely from time. As such, I would prefer if all he finds is infertile ground for his scheming.”
I could guess at how he might go about it. “Some problems are easier to solve than others.”
My magic didn’t need a focus, it needed my will and determination, and as long as I took care with what I weaved, I could accomplish a great deal, including leaving the kind of curse on somebody a divine would struggle to unravel.
“I appreciate your confidence, but I’m concerned about the source of it. How many curses have you laid that require a divine to unwind?”
“None yet.” For Belinda, I would, however. Some might call me a fool for trusting the Devil, but who else would know the matter of souls better than him? “Can you tell me, with certainty, who holds responsibility for Belinda’s suicide?”
“I can.”
“Will you?”
“For a price.”
I nodded. All things in life came with prices, and I could accept that. “All right. I’m ready to hear your offer.”
“Mr. Durant is going to view you as a mountain he wishes to climb. You’ve already planted those seeds. In exchange for the names of those who hold full and proper responsibility for Belinda’s death, I wish for you to become a challenge for him.”
I laughed. “I’m already doing that for fun, Lucifer. Are you sure that’s actually a price?”
“Well, some prices are enjoyable to pay. I didn’t say you wouldn’t like the price. However, some of what I tell you will be upsetting.”
“I hold responsibility for her suicide because I left our place of employment, which put her in the position she was in at the time of her death.”
Life began, often with a quiet and distressed wail.
It often ended the same way as well.
I could accept the role I had played, because every action and inaction had consequences.
“You are correct. How does this change things for you?”
“It doesn’t. Let me rephrase my question. Who holds responsibility for her suicide due to deliberate and malicious intent?”
Lucifer smiled. “That’s better. Good.”
He began naming names, all men of higher rank within the company, all of them sleazy in some fashion or another. A notable exception, that of the Chief Financial Officer, caught my attention. “Mr. Noran wasn’t involved?”
“Mr. Noran grieves, and he dare not show it.”
As an eligible bachelor with no known dating life, at least when I had departed, Mr. Noran brought wealth and prestige to any woman lucky enough to land him. Everything I’d seen of the man indicated he would be a prize more than the money.
Handsome, although he couldn’t hold a candle to Yuless, kind, albeit not kind in the way I preferred, and considerate of those who worked underneath him.
“Were they dating?” I blurted.
Lucifer nodded. “Mr. Noran made certain to plan his business trips around hers, and they would slip away to spend time together in private. They shared hobbies, and they would craft together. With her loss, his purpose for continuing has been shattered.”
Damn it. Like Belinda, I would genuinely regret his loss.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“We can always do something. Like with Ashley, all he needs is a stick. You could choose to hold that stick and offer it to him. Like her, he battles quicksand he has no hope of conquering alone.”
If I could lure Mr. Noran away from his firm, I could arm Mr. Durant with one of the best money whizzes in Florida, and I could begin chipping away at the foundations of my former company.
With enough chips, I could make them fall, giving the Destroyer of Georgia a chance to swoop in and claim a prize, rebuilding it from scratch.
With me, I could revive dead relationships, rebuild good contracts, and redirect the entirety of the operations.
“And people say secretaries have no power,” the Devil teased.
“You will end up filling the entirety of your second floor at the rate you’re going, and every person would have a suite, and the only quibble would be a shared kitchen even ten families could work in without stepping on each other often. ”
“Not having a mortgage really helps with being able to do that.” I snuggled with my kitten. “Also, I love my little girls.”
“Yes, I knew you would, and they will be happy with you. When my father gets an idea, it’s best to just go with it. But I now have a better understanding of why. You will love and cherish them, but your new wards will need their special brand of care soon enough.”
Yes, they would.
Grief didn’t heal overnight, and it had ways of lingering.
“Please contact Mr. Noran on my behalf, set up a meeting, and do drop a hint that it is in regard to Belinda and her final wishes. With luck, that will get him on the move.”
“It will, although you may not appreciate having a disgruntled and distraught visitor in a few hours.”
“I can handle everything he throws at me, and what I learn from him will become the foundation of how badly I curse these bastards for what they have done. Mark my words, Lucifer. Today is the last day they hurt someone like that again without severe consequence, and nothing of the consequences will be good.”
With a rather chilling smile, Lucifer nodded. “And thus the scales rebalance. I will go do what you ask—and I will take care to make certain that call with Mr. Mortani does not come to pass. In exchange for your work, I will make certain this is the moment that seed shrivels and perishes.”
“Take peaches to Isaac, please. We’re all going to need some pie by the end of the day. Tell him I’m paying in elbow grease on his moving day.”
“It shall be so.”