Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
My new job doesn’t end up starting on Monday morning. I only get halfway through Sunday before getting a phone call from Lily.
“Can you come in to the office? I need to virtually sit in on an interview some of our investigators are doing in another state, and I need someone to take backup notes.”
Um… “Why don’t you just record it? I mean, I can come in, but surely a recording would be better.”
She sighs. “I’ve tried that, but even with top-of-the-line phones, a recording of a teleconference is usually pretty crap quality.”
I take a minute to puzzle through that. “Lily, are you using your phone to record video meetings on the teleconference system?”
“Yeah. Why?” She sounds puzzled.
I bite back a groan. “There’s a recording function on the system. Are the others doing that too?” For fuck’s sake, how can they possibly not know how to use the equipment properly?
“There’s a recording function? Really? Since when?”
“I’ll come in,” I tell her.
So I spend Sunday afternoon showing her how the recording function works and then sitting in on the meeting anyway, since it’s a good learning experience for me.
With the team having so few members and not being able to be everywhere at once, they rely pretty heavily on investigators on the ground in other states to do legwork for them.
It’s actually really fascinating, and I go home excited about my new job.
Which brings me to Monday.
I arrive bright and early at the office and go straight to my old team to start the handover process to the new administrator. I’m the first one there, which is great. I get most of the handover notes written up before the first person even arrives.
It’s Jim, the six-foot-three hulking demon who lied to me about the availability of demon spice, something I plan to discuss with him in great depth—except before I can open my mouth, he bursts into tears.
Tears.
And not delicate, elegant, trickle-down-your-cheeks tears. Oh, no. These are great, gasping, snotty sobs.
I don’t know what to do.
“Jim? Are you… Is everything okay? Do you… need a tissue?”
Before he can pull himself together enough to reply, three more of our team members (a hellhound, a felid, and an incubus) come in. They see me and start to cry.
Uhhhhh-huh.
Something smells fishy.
I grab the box of tissues from my desk, thrust it at my nearest teammate, then pull out my phone and call Alistair.
“Sammy, hey!”
“Fuck you, you dick. What have you done?”
“That’s not nice, Sam,” he says in a hurt voice. “I thought we were friends.”
“Oh, we are friends.” Somehow, I make it sound like a threat. Because I’m awesome and have skills. “That’s how I know you’re responsible for the festival of fucking tears in the office.”
“What?” He sounds genuinely confused, and I pause for a second. Maybe he doesn’t have anything to do with it?
Two more of our teammates walk in, look at me, and burst into tears. “Oh, Saaaaaaaaam!” one wails.
“Alistair, I don’t know what you’ve done, but you’d better get here now!” I hiss.
“I’m in the elevator. Less than five minutes. I swear, I didn’t do anything!” The line goes dead, and sure enough, just a few minutes later, Alistair races in, skidding to a stop. He takes in our bawling teammates and winces, looking somewhat guilty.
“Okay, so, it’s possible that something I said was misunderstood,” he admits. He looks around and swallows hard. “Really, really misunderstood.”
I sigh. “What?”
He hangs his head and mumbles something.
“Gruel would tear UFOs in half?” No way did I hear that right.
Huffing a laugh, he looks me in the eye and says, “You’re not allowed to hurt me if I tell you.”
I bite my lip. “I feel as though I should just hurt you anyway.”
The big, scary hellhound who stands eight inches taller than me and weighs half again as much as I do takes a huge step back. I’d be proud of myself, but I’m too busy trying to deal with the situation.
“Whatever you said to cause this, just fix it.” I don’t have time for crying investigators. The new admin is due to arrive any second, and I want to start handing over so I can get to grips with my new job.
Alistair takes a deep breath, then raises his hands and shouts, “Hey, need your attention—for Sam’s sake.”
A hush falls. There’s still the occasional sob, a nose being blown, but everyone’s attention turns to me and Alistair. There are lots of big sad eyes.
That makes me nervous. What the hell did he tell them?
“So, the message I sent you yesterday might have been… misleading,” Alistair begins. “When I said that this cruel world is tearing Sam from us forever, I didn’t mean that he was… permanently leaving this world. He’s not dying.”
“He’s not?”
“Really?”
“Oh, what a relief!”
I’m swarmed by hugs and spend a few minutes patting backs and reassuring everyone I’m okay. Have you ever been group-hugged by people who are all bigger than you? It’s an overwhelming experience.
When everyone is finally settled and calm, Jim turns to Alistair and asks, “So… what did you mean?”
“Yeah,” someone else chimes in. “You better not have put us through this for a joke , Alistair.”
He holds up his hands, palms out. “No joke. Sam really is being taken from us—by the lucifer. He’s going to be the admin for the senior investigative team.”
“Nooo!” someone howls. Somebody else bursts into tears again. I’m seized in another hug, this one with the kind of firm grip that tells me I’m not getting away anytime soon.
“Alistair!” I hiss.
He shrugs. “I just told them the truth. It’s not my fault they don’t like it.”
“You can’t leeeeeave uuuuuussss!” Jim whines. “You’re our human! They can find their own!”
I feel as though, once I get this settled, I should talk to HR about some sensitivity training. There are way too many people who seem to think of humans as toys.
For now, though, I have to—
“What is going on in here?” The strident female voice cuts through the noise in a way I will never be able to achieve. For the second time this morning, the room falls silent.
An older woman—definitely a shifter, and I’m going to guess hellhound from the way Alistair immediately drops his gaze—is standing just inside the door.
She’s dressed in a power suit and pearls, her hair and makeup immaculate, and her gaze is so confronting that it wouldn’t surprise me if she declared she was planning world domination.
“Aunt Vivienne?” Alistair mumbles. “What are you doing here?”
She sweeps in and plants her laptop bag on the nearest desk, which happens to be mine. “I,” she declares, “am the new administrator for this team.”
I grin. Oh, Harold, you naughty boy . I’ll have to buy him a present.
Alistair turns sheet white. A quick glance around shows all the other hellhounds reacting similarly.
“B-But—”
“No buts. Mark, if you don’t let go of that poor boy right now, I’ll—” She doesn’t even need to finish the sentence, Mark lets me go so fast I stumble a little, then regain my footing and step forward with a welcoming smile.
“Hi, I’m Sam, the old admin. It’s so nice to meet you.”
She casts a disparaging glance around at the rest of the team.
“I’m sure it is. I’ve heard about you. You’ve done good work here, and I won’t let them hold you back.
” She extends a hand for me to shake. “Vivienne Sanford. I’m Alistair’s great-aunt—and Elinor’s too, so if she gives you trouble, just let me know. ”
I love this woman!
“Thank you, that’s a very kind offer. Can I get you some coffee?”
She shakes her head. “I’m all set, thank you. As soon as these hooligans get on with what they’re supposed to be doing, we can get started.”
The hooligans scatter.
Six weeks later, I’m firmly ensconced in my new job and absolutely loving it.
Honestly, it’s the perfect fit for me. There were some initial teething problems with leaving my old team and then teaching my new teammates how I like things done, but those didn’t take us long to overcome, and now it feels as though I’ve been here forever. In a good way.
I’m even making new friends. Lily is amazing, and I feel more comfortable with her than with almost anyone else—except maybe Alistair.
But I can talk to Lily about things I wouldn’t with Alistair.
I’ve never really had a woman friend before, and it’s made me realize that I need to be more open to new experiences.
I’m nearly forty, and unlike my colleagues, that means my life is almost half done.
So my social life is opening up some, since between Lily and Alistair, I get out a few times a week, and I have an incredibly interesting job working with intelligent, capable people.
It’s just my love life that sucks. Which is ironic, because lately, my sex drive has been picking up.
The door slams open, making me jump and nearly knock over my coffee. Gideon storms in, throws his phone toward his desk—which is, as always, meticulously tidy—then stomps around the room in a circle.
I watch him. I’m not sure how to treat him, to be honest. He rearranged my whole house and fondled my dildos, but at the office, we’re kind of awkwardly distant. We said we’d just forget the past happened, but it’s still hanging over us.
Should I ask him what’s wrong? Offer him coffee? Ignore him? Keep staring at him until he notices?
Decisions, decisions….
“Call the others in,” he snarls, turning so suddenly that I jump again . I’m really not this nervy a person, I swear. “I need a meeting.”
I pick up my coffee and take a sip, then casually put the cup down and point to where his phone lies haphazardly near the edge of his desk.
“There’s your phone. Although Lily may not answer; she’s doing interviews.
” My job covers a lot, and making calls as part of a caseload is included in that.
Calling in team members because Gideon’s in a foul mood and occupied by pacing is not.