Page 17 of Hellbound

“My hat. I need my hat.”

The next thing Marian knew, she was sitting in that same plush chair in Mr. Vale’s office. She’d traded the towel for a black chenille blanket Mr. Vale had produced from one of the many cabinets on his wall. She stared bleary-eyed at her reflection in the window, the sky outside black, cloudy, and moonless.

She had no memory of bickering with Mr. Vale in the hallway or insisting she could walk unassisted. He claimed she’d hurled a rainbow of curses at him when he set her down, only to immediately rescue her from falling flat on her face.

Now she clutched a scalding mug of unwanted tea as she tried to piece together those lost moments. The finest Earl Gray in the world wouldn’t do a damn thing to soothe what ailed Marian. She also disliked bergamot, but the stony-faced demon had ignored her refusal and thrust it into her shivering hands.

“Why are you doing this?” She’d asked. Any other demon would have kicked her sopping wet ass to the curb.

“I protect my investments,” he’d answered.

His cold pragmatism quieted some of her confusion while simultaneously making her feel like even less of a person despite his insistence on treating her like one.

“I’m pretty sure I’m ruining this chair with my saltwater butt. Protect that investment.” But the words slurred together, losing the edge she’d tried to convey.

Vale looked downright pleased.

He moved to his desk and opened a drawer. “Your backside? I intend to.”

Marian blacked out again between the sound of a pen scratching paper and footsteps on the carpet. When Marian came to, Mr. Vale was standing over her, scowling again. She was sprawled out across the chair like she’d been shot, the tea precariously close to spilling down the front of her. He held out a check and plucked the mug out of her grasp. Marian sat up and glanced at the swooping strokes of ink on the slip.

Six thousand dollars. Cash.

Marian took the paper and shoved it into the pocket of the jacket folded up in the large white bag that had appeared beside her. She eyed the demon warily as licks of shadow wafted off his body.

That’s twice in a row now you’ve fucked up a deal. But this time, she had something to show for it. She needed more.

She wanted success; to prove she was worth the money and then some. She wanted answers to the questions about Elio Ramirez that kept her up at night.

“I’m going to find that goddamn key.”

Mr. Vale considered her quietly, the weight of his gaze exceptionally heavy. After a moment, he reached into her bag and pulled out the trucker hat from the top of the pile. He then set it on Marian’s head and tugged the brim down. “I thought you might say something like that. I don’t intend to dissolve this bargain.”

A strange thrill surged through Marian at his words. Fear wasn’t far off, but it didn’t matter then; the demon was going to give her another chance. The chair creaked as she leaned forward. “I can try again?”

“Yes, but not tonight.”

“You’re not killing me again. Next time, I go on my own terms with my own team. That horse shit you pulled back there was weird as fuck.”

Mr. Vale’s eyes fluttered shut as if being near her exhausted him. “You have such a way with words. It’s like being kicked in the ear.”

Marian’s upper lip curled. “I hope you’re speaking from experience.”

When he opened his eyes, his expression shuttered. “Assemble a team if you must. But you won’t speak to anyone about who financed your hunt or what I’m after. Understood?”

Marian nodded as she wriggled an arm out from under the blankets and offered him a hand to shake. Mr. Vale shook his head.

“You’ll keep this secret because I asked you to, not because you are bound to silence.”

Marian frowned in confusion. His words sounded far too much like trust to her liking, which seemed suspect. But she pulled her hand back under the blanket and shrugged, relieved to not have to have another clause etched into herself. “Fine. I promise.”

Goddamn weirdo.

“Good.” A wan smile stole over his features for a moment. Then his impassive mask returned as he rose to his full imposing height.

Marian watched and wondered what was going on in his head. Any other demon would have bound her to her word and named a consequence for breaking it. Mr. Vale was adept at treating Marian like she wasn’t a complete pile of garbage, which set him apart from the rest, but she knew better than to think he acted on altruism.

They all wanted something from her. Some were harder to read than others, and Mr. Vale was the most difficult of all.