But Eden was at a loss of a good excuse to use.
Darrak, however, was not.
“We’re with Publishers Clearing House,” he said smoothly. “Mr. Franks has won our latest sweepstakes, and this is our initial contact visit. It’s very exciting for everyone. Do you feel the excitement, good sir?”
The guard regarded him skeptically. “For real?”
“The realest. Three million dollars. A trip around the world. Uh . . . a whole mess of balloons. There’s even a cake. And a party. It’s going to be amazing. My lovely associate and I just need to talk to Mr. Franks and have him sign some release forms and then we do the whole presentation with the big check and confetti.”
Eden didn’t think their reason behind looking for Brendan Franks needed to be this elaborate, but the guard seemed very impressed.
She was also impressed. Darrak was a fantastic and very creative liar.
She stepped back a little to give him space to keep talking with the guard, who was now checking the employee database.
The guard frowned. “Sorry, but I’m not finding that name.”
“Keep looking,” Darrak suggested. “He’s got to be in there somewhere.”
A dark-haired woman on her way toward the elevators slowed and glanced at Eden. “Is that right? Someone in this building won a major prize?”
Eden cleared her throat. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”
“Who is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Brendan Franks. You don’t happen to know him, do you?”
The woman frowned. “I’m afraid not.”
Damn. This wasn’t going to be an easy assignment, but she already knew that.
Darrak waited, leaning against the security desk. He glanced over his shoulder at Eden and gave her a thumbs-up.
At least one of them was staying positive about this.
This was ridiculous. They had better things to do today than chase after half-baked clues for Lucas. If it took much longer, it would have to wait for another day.
Something caught Eden’s eye then. Darrak wasn’t leaning against the desk so much as he was hanging on to the side of it. His shoulders were slumped and a trickle of perspiration slid down his temple.
He wasn’t feeling well.
She’d think he might have contracted the flu, just as her symptoms were coming on slowly but surely this week, but there was just one very important thing . . .
Demons didn’t get sick.
Then what was going on? Or was it just her imagination? “Darrak—” she began. She was going to suggest they leave and try again tomorrow. Lucas would just have to understand that all good things came to those who waited—even if they were the Prince of Hell. Triple-A didn’t offer twenty-four-hour turnaround for anybody.
“You don’t mind if I wait here, do you?” the dark-haired woman interrupted her. She hadn’t budged a step from where she stood next to Eden, gazing at the security desk. “I’d hate to miss any of the excitement.”
“We’re probably going to go soon. I don’t think they can find his name on the employee list.”
“Brendan Franks,” she repeated. “You’re sure about that?”
“Do you work here?”
“Tenth floor. I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“Not at all. I’d be happy to help if I can.”
Eden wanted to leave, but she couldn’t turn down a solid lead when one presented itself to her. This woman might know where to find Brendan. And if she could get to the bottom of this minor mystery today, then it was one less thing to think about and she could focus on Andy’s werewolf dilemma tonight and seeing Maksim again tomorrow.
So much to do, so little time.
“I definitely don’t have a Brendan Franks,” the security guard told Darrak to their right. “Sorry about that.”
Damn. That wasn’t very promising.
“However . . .” the guard continued.
“What?” Darrak prompted.
“I do have a . . . uh . . . a Brenda N. Franks. Do you think that might be it?”
“Brenda?” Darrak repeated. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I can see why there might have been an error made. One little dot can make a whole lot of difference, can’t it? Do you think Brenda’s the winner you’re looking for?”
Darrak turned his head in Eden’s direction just as she felt an arm clamp tightly around her.
“Middle name’s Natasha,” the woman purred into her ear. A whisper of sharp steel pressed against her throat. “Nice to meet you. Now what the hell do you want with me?”
NINE
The moment the woman pulled the knife, flames rippled down Darrak’s right arm and covered his hand. All archde-mons had an