Why did I feel like a cheating husband? She had given us the coffee—a brew I would be terrified to drink for fear of poison or a spell that would shrivel my balls to the size of dried peas—and sailed past as if I meant nothing whatsoever to her. And now, for no reason that made sense, I was chasing her, demanding to ride down with her and my “client,” who was still in the apartment, putting her dress back on. I should wait for her, let Safire go on her own, but something in me wouldn’t allow it. Demanded we stop her from going.
That something was a giant white polar bear who had been doing his best to get free and bat Beverly Bunny off the balcony with a clawed paw. He’d been beyond disgusted by her touch, grossed out in a way he’d never exhibited while we worked our way through dozens of females of all kinds in our tenure in the sulphur depths.
He’d actually been very quiet that whole time. And it had to have been miserable for the poor guy. I just hadn’t recognized it then.
I would have gladly left the rabbit behind if it wouldn’t have been a surefire way to get fired. As it was, who knew how many people saw what had happened on the balcony? The building across the street stood mute, but its tenants, had they been near their windows, would have had a bird’s eye view of me and a woman in her underwear grappling in the throes of what could have been anything from sex to anger to even attempted rape. Or murder.
We should do that. Let’s tear her up.
Oops, the bear was into the idea. No, we can’t do that. We’d be fired. Also I wasn’t into murder, but the bear and I had different opinions on what constituted murder.
Anyway, I would not make a bad situation worse by leaving her in the building unattended. Or letting Safire leave on her own. We were all going to have to make the trip together.
The elevator doors slid open just before I got there, and I slid straight inside, the slick soles of my brand new dress shoes finding no traction on the marble section of floor or the only slightly less slippery flooring of the car itself.
Two of my brain cells made a note to point out the safety concerns to Tarana or Giff.
The others got together to hit the door open button before I ended up in there alone. “Going down?” My voice sounded so calm, I was just the teensiest bit proud, but her glare ignited a burn in my torso. Hopefully only emotional because anyone who could fly like that was capable of almost anything. I had the impression she didn’t have much magic yet. That seemed to have changed.
I’d spent a fair amount of time with witches—not in Hell, since most of them didn’t believe in it anyway and therefore didn’t go there, but the local coven back home in Alaska. They ran several of the businesses in the nearby town, and there was an energy signature they all shared. A signature Safire almost vibrated with.
But I hadn’t seen her do anything with magic at all. Like…deal with the plug situation. Magic would have come in handy there. Perhaps she saved it for special occasions? Or only liked to do certain types—maybe only had the ability to do limited but really powerful things. Maybe later we could talk about that. If she didn’t consider it private. Some did. I felt such a strong connection to this little witch, it was hard to believe we’d met only the day before. Watching someone sleep in my bed was so intimate…
At this point, we seemed to have a stalemate. I was in the elevator, and she was still standing outside it, but her expression held indecision. She didn’t have to ride with us; perfectly good stairs stood at the other end of the hallway.
After a long, uncomfortable couple of minutes, Beverly Bunny came stalking up to us and stepped inside. The red of her outfit no longer radiated sexuality—rather it matched the shade of her face. Angry. Really angry. My brief tenure as rental agent would be over as soon as she spoke to my boss, something she’d told me I could count on as we re-entered the apartment from the balcony.
Also, she no longer wanted to rent a place in our building. I managed not to cheer. I could only imagine how fun it would be to run into her on a daily basis. My bear could only be held back for so long, and his anger more than matched hers. As he reminded me, bears occasionally ate bunnies for lunch—and not in the fun way. Beverly took her place in the elevator, standing next to me and facing forward. “You’ll regret this.”
I looked at Safire, extending a challenge. “Coming?”
Her lips curved up in a smile so sweet, my bear rumbled with pleasure, but I knew better. He only understood female bears, and they rarely hid negative feelings behind a smile. I shivered a little. “Why yes, thank you.” Safire stepped forward and inserted herself between us before turning around to face the same direction we did—elevator-appropriate forward. “Did you enjoy your coffee?”
The buzzer went off, protesting the open doors, and I pushed the button for the lobby. “Thank you for getting it.” In truth, I’d set it on the balcony railing, and would have to go get the tray after the client—former client—left to make her call and destroy any hope of my getting promoted from building super. A job Safire could do far better than I anyway.
Another half century in Hell loomed ahead of me. Or more. The Prince of Darkness seemed to enjoy my company, making me sit at his side for his “entertainments” often. I didn’t want to do that again. I’d gotten this chance to escape to cooler climes and was blowing it so badly, I probably deserved to be part of those entertainments. Torture. Like now. If Beverly said or did anything that upset Safire any more than she was, who knew what she might do in retaliation?
But when we reached the lobby and the doors opened, the little witch linked her arm with the bunny’s and gave me another of those smiles. “I’ll see you out. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”
Beverly’s anger had calmed a bit on the way down, if her expression and body language offered any indication. And at Safire’s touch, she shrank into herself and looked at me with a plea in her eyes. Since I was pretty well doomed as soon as she picked up the phone, and she’d behaved really badly, I couldn’t find it in myself to pity her. Or protect her.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Bunny. Sorry you didn’t like the units.” I watched them exit before hitting the button to return to the third floor. I wanted that coffee.
And some answers.