Page 39 of Client from Hell

“I wouldn’t know. I generally refuse to lick raccoons,” the incubus replied. “If you want to lick a raccoon, be my guest, but don’t expect me to rescue you. If the raccoon tries to lick you without your permission, I’ll step up, but all bets are off if you approach them. And since we’re discussing ridiculous things to begin with, I don’t care what Lucifer says, these are not kittens, and we are not rescuing them.”

“I have zero interest in being attacked by angry raccoons.”

“That implies you are okay with being attacked by other types of raccoons, Sandra.”

I eyed the raccoons, who kept their distance and continued their cacophony of warning cries. The younger ones, a quarter of the size of the adults, were rather cute. “How cute does a baby animal have to be to justify being attacked by raccoons in order to pet them?”

“I would generally tolerate being attacked by raccoons of any type to rescue a baby human, a baby dog, or a baby cat of the domestic variety. I’d stop and think about it when it comes to rescuing baby cats of the non-domestic varieties. I’m quite fond of my sister, but she has one hell of a bite, and she leaves scars if she decides to whip her claws out. I have a few trophies on my back from having survived her wrath.”

“But baby raccoons are not cute enough to justify being mauled, right?” I pointed at them. “They’re kind of cute.”

“In a possibly rabid sort of way, I suppose. Honestly, they rank pretty high up there, but I have a sense of self-preservation. I recommend you develop one.”

I laughed. “I’m inviting an incubus over so I can be his dinner and dessert daily for an undetermined amount of time. You should recommend I develop one after this happens.”

“Ah, but I’ll leave you happy afterwards. They’ll leave you rabid, and there’s nothing fun about having a rabies treatment done. Also, I don’t want to see a rabid lycanthrope. A regular lycanthrope is dangerous enough.”

I nodded at his admirable common sense and left the raccoons alone—and took care to give their section of the sitting room a wide berth. Then, as I’d immortalized enough of our stupidity, I stopped recording our imminent demise on my phone. “I have a date request.”

“I’m listening.”

“We make that fucking brother-in-law of yours rue, lament, and regret the day he sent us here using kittens. Because I like kittens enough to deal with this shit. I don’t even want to know what I’m stepping in.”

Jonas snickered. “I’d guess raccoon shit judging from the little hissing bastards pissed that we’re in their territory. Don’t fret. We’ll get cleaned up before we get into the car.”

“Damn straight we’ll get cleaned up. I will use every single practitioner trick I know to purify us of this filth before we get anywhere near my new baby.”

“Our new baby.”

I pointed at my feet, grateful I wore proper shoes and not sandals. “Until these are spotless, and I’m not driving it but am inside the vehicle, it’s my new baby. You get to call Lucille your new baby when you are the driver.”

“Neither of us are driving, so it’s our new baby.”

I debated the benefits of allowing him to win. When I couldn’t think of anything worth justifying my loss, I asked, “What are you giving me to make it our new baby?”

“I will pay in positive physical and emotional attention once per day for joint ownership of our new baby.”

As negotiating our future relationship status beat thinking about what I stepped in, I asked, “What does it say about me that this seems like a really good deal? I am willing to concede she is our new baby when neither of us are driving or have dibs to drive next, and dibs to drive next can only be claimed twenty minutes prior to departure.”

“This is a fair arrangement.”

“Deal. We are not getting anywhere near our new baby until we’re spotless, Jonas. Absolutely spotless. Pure. Cleansed of evil and filth.”

“I don’t want to be cleansed of evil.”

Right. Incubus. “Okay, fine. Just cleansed of filth. You can cling to your evil ways if you must.”

“I must. My evil ways are sexy and sinful, and my marvelous powers as a bed buddy would be greatly diminished if I lost my evil.”

I snorted, as I hadn’t thought it was possible for someone to spout almost as much bullshit as the Devil. “Until I get a bed buddy demonstration, you are all talk, Mr. Incubus.”

“You are not supposed to be hungry for bed buddy activities until after I’ve corrected your hormones, Sandra. Simmer down.”

I didn’t want to simmer down. I wanted a bed buddy. Sighing, I shrugged. “It beats thinking about what I’m walking through. Do we really have to go deeper into this creepy horror house?”

“Lucifer’s inclusion of a time implies things I don’t want to think about, like the kittens will either leave or they’ll be eaten, possibly by the rabid raccoons.” Like me, Jonas sighed. “I am spoiled, and I don’t want to go deeper into the creepy horror house, either. This is something we must do. But considering what we’re walking through? You should have a unique assortment of diseases by the time we get out of here.”

“This is the dumbest damned errand, and if we die doing this, we deserve it. Divide and conquer, search every room except the sitting room, because there is no amount of money on this sweet Earth, in the heavens, or in the hells to convince me I need to fight the raccoons to look in their shitty little hellhole.”