Chapter One #4
“For your safety,” Gideon says bluntly. “We vetoed Percy going because we can’t guarantee his safety, and the same applies to you. We’d all be a lot happier if someone else could go instead, but there’s nobody who has the necessary skills and enough seniority to negotiate in Percy’s stead.”
This day has just been a complete clusterfuck, and it’s not even ten o’clock yet. I try to get my head around what they’re telling me.
“I appreciate your concern for my well-being,” I begin carefully, then toss aside the idea of being diplomatic. It’s Gideon, after all, and we don’t have time to pussyfoot around the issue. “I can take care of myself.”
“We know,” Percy says. “None of us doubts that. But if something bad happens, you’ll be outnumbered. Having Gideon there gives you someone to watch your back, at the very least.”
“What’s going on here?” I demand. “We need Gideon here today, not following me around like an overqualified bodyguard. If you’re really that concerned about me being there alone, I’ll take someone from security, or an enforcer.
We can’t spare Gideon—or Alistair, or anyone else from the team,” I add, just in case they get that bright idea.
I’m a little miffed that they’ve been discussing this but deliberately left me out.
Percy hesitates. “It has to be Gideon. If things go truly bad, he can teleport you out of there. We don’t have any other demon with as much strength and the right security clearance.”
Teleport me from another dimension? It’s been done, of course, but it nearly killed Noah.
Plus, he’s human. We don’t know if demons could replicate it or if they’re limited to same-dimensional teleportation.
And it’s really not something you want to experiment with under pressure, what with the whole risk of death and all.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Do you really think that would be a good idea? Really,” I repeat.
“Someone tell me what’s going on. Has the magic given you a hint that there might be a problem?
Because I don’t understand why you’d waste Gideon’s time like this and risk potentially losing both of us if something does go wrong. ”
Percy and Gideon exchange glances again, and it’s enough to make me want to yell.
“You guys are doing this wrong,” Alistair says, leaning forward. “I’m taking over.”
Alarm flashes across their faces, but before they can say anything, he continues.
“It’s like this, David. You’re Percy’s second-in-command, and a lot of things would go to shit if something happened to you.
That makes you a valuable resource, which means your safety is worth taking Gideon’s time and risking him.
Although we all hope that doesn’t become an issue, because Sam likes him and we need Sam to be happy, not all mopey and shit. ”
Fucking Alistair and his jokes. “I’m not Percy’s second-in-command,” I begin, but Percy makes a face, and I stop. “What?”
He shrugs. “I was going to get you to sign the papers to make it official last year,” he admits. “But when we were at the CCA compound to rescue Sam, that one enforcer said you were in charge when I wasn’t around—do you remember? And you went ballistic at him.”
“In your own way,” Alistair chips in. “Because ballistic for you is mildly irritated for everyone else.”
Would anyone really care if I smacked him?
My phone chimes with the reminder that it’s time to meet Caolan for the trip to his world. I stand.
“I don’t have time for this right now. Nothing’s going to happen, and—”
“Sit down,” Percy orders, and it’s so unusual to hear that tone from him that I find myself planting my ass back in the chair without even thinking about it.
“Look,” Gideon begins, “believe it or not, we’re not trying to make all the shit you’re doing harder for you.
You’ve been unofficially Percy’s second-in-command for a long time, probably close on ten years.
” He holds up a hand when I open my mouth to argue.
“You want to say that we’re a team, that we’re all equals, but that’s bullshit.
You’re our go-to guy. You know more about CSG than anyone.
Everyone comes to you when they have something they’re not sure if they should bring to Percy.
And you’re the first person people look for when there’s a major issue.
The thing is, it was fine for all that to be unofficial before.
None of us wanted the additional responsibility, and everyone at CSG knows the way things work.
None of us cared all that much about what your title was.
” He stops. “If we were better people, we probably would have said something to you so you could negotiate a higher salary.”
Now there’s a thought. Although, my current salary is more than sufficient for my needs. It’s not like I have expensive hobbies—I don’t have time for hobbies.
“But now we’re in the middle of the fuckup to end all fuckups,” he continues.
“Things that we could let slide before now need to be addressed. If the situation gets out of control and something happens to Percy, or we need to put him in secure lockdown, there needs to be a clear chain of command. We can’t have people wondering who they should take orders from, you or their species leader or whoever they see as an authority figure.
It needs to be you, and it needs to be official. ”
He has a point. We’ve never needed to think about it before, because things have been smooth sailing for centuries—and nobody’s ever before tried to upset the order of our reality. That’s a new crisis.
“Why can’t it be you?” Or anyone else.
For a second, I think he’s going to leap across the table and rip my throat out. Gideon doesn’t have a lot of patience. Great guy, though. Exactly who you want backing you up when you take on the forces of evil. His glare alone could make them reconsider.
Alistair saves me from death by demon when he bravely—foolishly?—puts a restraining hand on Gideon’s arm. “We need him alive, remember? Or it really might end up being you.” As Gideon sucks in a (calming?) breath, Alistair turns to me.
“You’re not listening, David. It can’t be Gideon because it already is you. You’re doing the job, just without the title and the paycheck.”
The practical side of me has to concede that what they’re saying is true. The stubborn side, though, doesn’t want to accept it. Too bad I pride myself on being practical.
Sighing, I nod. “What do you want from me?”
Percy pushes over his tablet. The document on the screen is the standard addendum to employment contracts that we use when someone gets promoted or changes departments at CSG.
It shows the new job title, a brief job description, and the updated salary and benefits.
I skim over the first page, trying not to wince when I notice that the job description is a pretty accurate summary of my workday, then flip to the next page and can’t hold in the low whistle when I see the dollar figure.
“Are you sure that’s not overpaying me?”
Alistair rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously arguing about being paid too much ?”
“It’s not too much,” Percy says before I can reply. “It’s actually at the lower end of the scale for the role and your experience, but I figured you’d prefer the extra money be used for one of the outreach programs.”
He really does know me too well.
“Why don’t you put the rest into programs as well?” I suggest. “Everything above my current salary.”
“No” is his firm reply. “If you decide you want to donate, that’s your call, but CSG is paying you at least somewhat close to what you’re worth.
Use the extra to find a place closer to the office so you don’t end up crashing here all the time.
” The level look he aims my way tells me we’ll be discussing that in more detail later.
And here I was thinking I’d been so sneaky.
Huffing, I grab the stylus he’s holding out, sign the doc, date it, and enter my employee ID and password when the little box pops up. There. It’s official. I’m now continuing to do my job.
“Are we good? The king is expecting us.”
“The king is expecting you sometime in the morning,” Percy counters dryly. “And we’ll all be surprised if Caolan is actually here and waiting already.”
“You’re feeling sassy today,” I point out, and he laughs.
“I’m enjoying this. It’s not often I get to turn the tables on you. Now, about Gideon coming with you.”
“It’s really not necessary,” I protest. Percy just grins, somewhat evilly. It’s Gideon who speaks.
“That’s no longer your decision to make. Being Percy’s second puts you in the command hierarchy, which means that determining the danger level of any given situation and deciding whether it merits additional protection or force is my and Alistair’s job. And Andrew’s, Ellie’s—even Sam’s.”
I blink. “I’m a member of the team myself. That doesn’t apply to me.” The act of law he’s referring to gives us seniority over pretty much everyone, including Percy, when decisions need to be made to ensure their protection.
“It applies,” Alistair tells me cheerfully.
“We checked. In a situation where the lucifer is under threat, all members of the hierarchy are immediately put under increased guard and are subject to protection orders.” He smirks.
“And we decided after Noah was kidnapped that there was a direct threat to Percy. Remember? We all agreed, and you were the one who sent out the directive to increase protection for him and the species leaders.”
I remember, of course. And I stand by our decision. I just didn’t think it would be biting me in the ass like this.
“Funny how you didn’t mention this until after I’d signed the paperwork accepting the job title.”
Gideon holds up his hands, palms out. “To be fair, we did tell you what we wanted from the beginning. Making it your legal obligation was our fallback.”