in surprise at our sudden entrance, and Emil lifts one frosty brow. “Ms. Pond? Why are you manhandling one of our staff?”
I give him a sweet, toothy smile. “How many gifts do you shower on me?”
He frowns, his eyes shifting between us. “None. We share household responsibilities.”
I turn to Tobias. “How many of your credit cards do I have?”
Suspicious, Tobias pulls his wallet from his pocket and checks the contents before tucking it away. “None. Why?”
Releasing her arm, I stab a finger against Ms. Turner’s chest with more force than strictly necessary. “Just to clarify, I am not a prostitute. I do not wait at home to be fucked and spend the rest of my day shopping with other people’s money. And if you accuse me of that one more time, I will eat you down to dust.”
Narrowing her eyes, she smooths a hand over her french twist, smoothing back the fiery strands. “As I said, you do not have a meeting scheduled, and—”
I turn back to Emil and Tobias. “I’m going to eat her.”
Tobias rises from the couch, his arm out as he directs the woman back toward the door. “Ms. Turner, I’m not sure why you’re interfering with Ms. Pond’s ability to come here, or even why you’re still in the executive secretary pool. I was under the impression HR spoke with you this morning.”
She stumbles as she tries to face him while being herded backward. “Well, yes, sir, but the transfer doesn’t go into effect until Monday.”
“Ah. I will speak to HR again.” He nods in understanding. “The position change is supposed to be effective immediately.”
“But I can’t move to another branch location until after the weekend,” she protests. “I haven’t even been able to file transfer paperwork at the clerk’s office to be allowed to leave town.”
“You have exemplary organization skills, Ms. Tuner,” Tobias murmurs as he shoves her out the door. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
As the door snaps closed, I throw back my head with a groan. “Just fire her already.”
“There are processes to be followed, Ms. Pond,” Emil says coolly from his place on the couch.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll just catch her in a dark alley and—”
“Ms. Pond,” Emil cuts in sharply. “You are forbidden from destroying the corporeal form of any of our staff.”
“Forbidden,” I scoff. “Well, you’re forbidden from having any more horny secretaries.”
“Why are you here, Adie?” Tobias interrupts before we start picking at each other. His warm hand settles on the back of my neck, massaging my tense muscles. “Aren’t you closing at the bakery tonight?”
Moaning, I lean into his touch. “Have I complimented your magic fingers, yet?”
“Quite loudly last night. I barely got any sleep with all the shouting.” Emil rises to his feet. “What’s going on, Adie?”
Reluctant, I push Tobias’s magic massage fingers away. “I just had a visitor at the bakery and thought, as my representative, I should inform Tobias of what happened.”
Emil’s gaze sweeps over me. “Are you okay?”
“Creeped out and angry, but uninjured.” I walk over to the sofa and take a seat next to Emil, then wait for him and Tobias to settle back down before I launch into a word-for-word recount of what happened.
They stay silent through the explanation, exchanging glances every so often that send prickles of warning down my spine. They don’t look especially surprised.
When I finish speaking, my attention jumps between their blank expressions. “Did you guys already know about this?”
“Not know, per se,” Emil hedges.
Tobias, never one to tiptoe around a topic, says bluntly, “It’s one of the options we’ve discussed for how to get you out of this situation.”
“Bullshit.” Disbelief colors the word, and my eyes drop to the papers spread out on the table. Grainy surveillance photos, demon law books, and other legalise I don’t recognize. “I’m not scapegoating Julian.”
My heart stutters when I spy a Grievance and Vengeance claim form. They can’t be serious. They have to know how I’d feel about this.
Emil lifts his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s only one of the options we’ve discussed.”
Anger bubbling back to the surface, I look between them. “Well, cross it off the list! I’m not turning on Julian!”
“Adie, listen—” Tobias begins.
“No!” Unable to stay still, I lurch to my feet. “You listen! I. Am. Not. Turning. On. Julian.”
Tobias rises as well, a storm brewing in his expression. “If Victor Hesse came to you offering a deal, we have to assume he offered the same one to Julian. That’s how these things work. The