ground her teeth. “Yes. She has.”
“Wait, how? It’s not in any of our records and that’s way late–”
“Fuck you.” her patience snapped. “I don’t know who you are, but my mother is none of your business. Get out of here or I’m calling the cops!”
The man gasped. “Your mother?” He leaned forward, studied her face, then stood up straight again. “Shit.” He put a hand to his jaw, frowning. “This puts a wrench in things.”
Samantha slammed the door and stalked back to the computer, grabbing her cell on the way. If he knocked again, she was calling the cops. If he wasn’t gone in ten minutes, she was calling the cops. Should she call the cops now?
No. She had work to do.
* * * *
Eli stormed into the office, tossing the file onto the Doll’s desk and leaned over it. “Want to explain this to me again? With all the information this time? For instance, the part where the firstborn of Marie Parker is in her twenties, and her mother dead?”
The Doll gave him a look. “If you’d read the whole file, it’s all in there. Marie swore her firstborn to Diego in exchange for lifelong happiness. Diego was snuffed before he could pick up the payment.
“How the hell did this get buried for so long? She’s twenty-five for fuck’s sake!”
The construct rolled her eyes. “It was Diego’s case. We just got around to sorting out his outstanding files is all.”
“Talk about your lag time. What are you people doing down here?”
“Look, are you going to finish it or not? It’s easy enough, just read her the same speech you’d read the mother and do it. Done.”
“You’re supposed to give that speech to the mother, who, in case you missed it, is also dead!”
“Technically, she isn’t dead, since her soul hasn’t passed through. So she’s either bound to someone else or still kicking.” The Doll shuffled through her papers again. “Whatever, Eli. Do it however you want. Just do it.”
“So I’ve got clearance to do the regular snag and bag?”
“As long as her soul is in the coffers, we don’t care. Diego’s oversight was just stupid, and it’s seriously throwing the balance.”
“Throwing the balance?” Eli frowned. “How?”
The Doll huffed. “We don’t know how. When we tracked the paperwork, we found a long-standing list originating from his death.”
“Anything super serious?”
“Not yet.” She adjusted her glasses. “Honestly, we probably would have tossed the papers altogether if the balance hadn’t come into the equation. That’s what usually happens.”
“I guess it isn’t protocol?”
“Technically the office has the right to pursue the souls regardless. It’s our power which primed them in the first place, and we have first dibs. A lot of time no one wants to pick up the goods. Too much trouble, too much paperwork, too much work when you could just go to the bar and grab one on the fly.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean.” Eli huffed, brushing off his shoulders. For a second there, he’d been sure Samantha had seen through his glamour, glimpsed his true form. That was just creepy. “Seriously, this chick is quarter of a century old and no idiot. She wouldn’t even open the door, much less invite me in.”
“I hate those damn firstborn deals,” the construct mumbled. “Granted, it’s practically a two for one, plus the bonus for innocence and virginity, but when there’s complications it’s never anything a good murder can fix.”
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.” Eli waved. “All right. I guess I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“You want my input, Eli?”
“Sure.”
“You did damage when you assumed she was your average target. Figure out how to reverse it. Pull out your blue suede shoes.”
Eli snorted. “Come on, doll. I’m a Damned. I’ve got a blue suede suit.”
* * * *
He followed Samantha to the coffee shop the next morning. Changing his looks to be inconspicuous was easy enough, but if she was a sensitive individual than it could cause problems. At first he just stood in line some three people away. He needn’t have worried though. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the dulled luster of her hair, she’d been up all night. Maybe trying this now wasn’t a good idea. People were touchy when they were tired, and she’d already told him off once.
No, he should at least get a foot in the door. He considered being cavalier and buying her drink but decided against it as she ordered a triple shot vanilla latte. Damn. Even as a demon, he didn’t need that much caffeine. What the hell did she do for a living?
She sat in one of the arm chairs and pulled out a laptop, pulling her hair up in a bun as she pushed a pair of glasses up her nose. Had she been wearing those last night? No–either contacts or she’d been blind. That would explain why she’d ignored his dashing good looks.
Or she was just sensitive and smart.
He was fucked if it was the latter.
Stop thinking negative, Eli. There was nothing like a sugar-packed pastry to lift a lady’s spirits. Clearly he would need to lay on the charm.
“Large coffee, a cookie, one of those blueberry bagels, and a pumpkin muffin.” He paused. “And oatmeal.”
Might as well cover all the bases, just in case she was a health nut.
* * * *
The website was still up and running. No bugs, no glitches so far. Thank God. The stuff she’d done last night had been quick and dirty, and she’d half expected the server to crash during the night. Hopefully the latte would let her get some better quality coding going.
She’d just finished identifying her plan of attack when someone settled into the chair next to her. Not looking up, she moved her latte from the middle of the table so they could set their tray down.
“Thank you.”
“No prob.” She didn’t take her eyes off the screen, but glanced up to make sure her latte wasn’t about to fall off the table. It was the same man from last night. She jumped. “What the hell?”
Samantha leaned over and dug in her pocket for her phone. “Okay, look, mister. I don’t care how well you knew my mom. If you don’t get the fuck out, I’m calling the cops on your ass.”
The man held up his hands. “Hey,” he said. “Look, just give me a second, okay? I know I fucked up last night. You’re right. If someone pulled that shit on me, I’d have a shotgun in their face in a nanosecond, and you
