A Darker Past (The Darker Agency #2)(2)



“What the hell?” I mouthed as soon as he got to the front of the room.

With a wicked grin, Kendra held up the paper with a proud little wave for me to see. It was blank.

She was a witch. The daughter of Cassidy Belfair, leader of the New York Coven. Until recently, Kendra had major issues with her spell casting. It usually wielded unpredictable and often humiliating effects. The poor girl had cursed herself with a pair of horns at one point while trying to fix the horn in her car. But she was practicing hard and getting better every day. The horns were gone, and she hadn’t turned anyone into a snake in over a month. That was major progress!

“I’ve got this awesome one to try on Mom tonight, too. It’s a Liar’s Bane,” she whispered, beaming. “Makes it impossible for the person to tell a lie.”

“Nice,” I mouthed and turned to check the clock above the door. But the clock wasn’t there. Well, it was, but something was obstructing my view. A pair of Caribbean blue peepers and a mop of blond, unruly hair. “Ahhh!”

All heads swiveled in my direction. “Is there a problem, Miss Darker?” Fritz asked, annoyed.

My eyes went from the grinning demon in my face to the unhappy math teacher at the front of the room. I did my best not to cringe, and said, “Um, sorry. I thought I saw a spider.”

There was a chorus of soft snickers as Fritz shook his head. Kendra looked at me funny, but I waved her off and turned my attention back to the uninvited—and unwanted—visitor. No one could see him except me.

Lucky them.

Valefar leaned back and kicked up his feet in the empty desk next to mine. I hated the demon, but you had to admit he had a certain kind of presence. Being a bigwig in the Shadow Realm—AKA, Hell—could do that. He batted his eyes and clutched his chest in mock dismay. “Do I get the impression that you’re not happy to see me?”

I scowled in silence, hoping it conveyed hell yes, because honestly? I was never happy to see him. I was indebted to him, which translated into a multitude of unwanted and ill-timed visits. He’d made a habit of popping up at the most inconvenient times. I was convinced it was for no other reason than to annoy me. You’d think someone like him would have more important things to do than test the mental stability of a teenager. Governments to overthrow. Babies to steal. Mattress tags to rip off.

He tsked and tapped the side of his face, still grinning. “What’s the matter? Demon got your tongue?” Sliding from the seat, he did a little twirl and landed on my desk. My pen rolled to the edge and went over. “It’s okay. You can chat me up, Sugar Plum. They can’t hear you.”

“What are you doing here?” I rasped, worried someone would hear me. They didn’t, though. Fritz was once again absorbed in his own lecture, while the rest of the class did their best to pass the time until the bell. “Didn’t we go over the whole personal space thing a few days ago?”

In order to save my parents from a madwoman, I’d been forced to ask Valefar, my dad’s boss at the time, for help by making a deal. Our arrangement freed my parents, but ultimately enslaved me. I’d agreed to work for him for the next fifty-five years. I had no idea how the whole thing was going to work in the long run. Did he expect me to go running around, tracking people down with a walker? Maybe use my dentures of death?

He cocked his head to the side and sighed. “I seem to recall telling you that you had no personal space. I own you. Remember?”

Remember? I’d been trying to forget. He’d caught me coming out of the shower a few nights ago. I’d kept that one to myself. Pretty sure Dad would blow a demonic gasket if he found out someone of the male persuasion—Hell spawn, or otherwise—was having shower visitation time with his little girl. And telling Lukas? Well, let’s just say you don’t go pissing off the ex-incarnation of Wrath without a really good reason. The guy still had serious anger management issues. In fact, lately it seemed to be getting worse.

I sighed. There was no point in arguing with him. I always lost. “Did you want something specific?”

“Your time in the kiddie pool is over.” He waggled his eyebrows and a delighted grin spread across his lips. Sometimes it was tough to reconcile with the idea that Valefar was a powerful demon. He came across more like an irritating college guy from some obscure motorcycle frat. Always dressed in black from head to toe, with longish blond hair, sexy smile, and black chain band on his left wrist, he looked like he belonged on the set of Sons of Anarchy. “It’s time to get those darling little digits dirty.”

I knew this would be coming. It was already the end of January, and since our arrangement in October, he hadn’t made me do much of anything. I checked up on a person here and there, and last week he’d tasked me with delivering a package to another demon’s earth-bound office, but nothing that could be considered unpleasant. Annoying and inconvenient as hell, but nothing to lose sleep over. Still, we’d made a deal, and there was no way out. I was up a demonic creek without any fairy dust.

I stole a peek at the front of the class. Fritz was tapping the blackboard with a wedge of chalk and stomping his feet over the lack of participation in the room. The poor guy was likely to have a heart attack by the end of the school year if he didn’t calm down a little. “What do I have to do?”

Enthusiastically, he snapped his fingers. A small slip of blue paper appeared. “This account has come due. I need you to collect.”

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