Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(84)

Oh. Yeah. Because that made me feel better. “He’ll be safe?” Because if she gave me her word, then Lukas would be fine. She wouldn’t be able to hurt him.

The receptionist nodded with a little too much enthusiasm.

“From you and anything else that might come across him, right?”

She flashed a mock frown. “You know your stuff. You have my word. He’ll be safe.”

I pushed open the door and stepped through. As it closed behind me, I heard her mumble, “Spoilsport.”





Chapter Thirty-two




The elevator opened to a sprawling hallway lined in red and gold. I waited for the room to shimmer like the lobby, but thankfully, it didn’t happen. I was sure the pristine carpeting and flawless paint job wasn’t real—just a glamour to put people at ease. But honestly? It wasn’t really working.

Forty-seven. That’s how many steps it took to get to the end of the hall. And to Valefar’s door.

Twenty-two. That’s how many times I thought about turning back and heading home to try finding another way.

And sixteen. That’s how many deep breaths I took as I stood in front of the door, trying to gather the guts to knock. But it wasn’t necessary. As I raised my hand, the door creaked open and soft light spilled into the hall.

Subtle. Real subtle.

I’d never met Valefar before, and when I stepped into the room, the guy that stood before me wasn’t what I expected. Wasn’t even close.

Black leather pants—what was it with demons and leather?—black silky button down, and worn black shit kickers. The guy had a generous mop of unruly blond hair and a pair of the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. The color belonged on the cover of a Caribbean vacation brochure—not a demon’s face.

Hotness aside—and yeah, he was hot—he looked a little older than me. Early twenties, tops. I knew that wasn’t his true form. Dad had told me once Valefar was among the oldest in the Shadow Realm’s hierarchy. The older demons were, the less human they looked.

His smile widened at my approach. “Now this is a pleasure.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Little Jessie Darker. You’re Damien’s girl.”

“You’re not surprised to see me? Here?”

His smile widened, and he winked. “Not in the least, Sugar Plum. What can I do for you?”

“I need help.”

He laughed and clapped his hands together. The sound echoed through the room, making me jump. “I like you. No beating around the proverbial bush.”

I stuffed both hands into my pockets. Play it cool, Jessie. “No time.”

“As I’m sure you know, my aid—should I choose to give it—does not come free.”

This was the part I’d been dreading. “I know.”

“What is it you need?”

“You sent my dad to stop the sale of the box containing the Seven Deadly Sins.”

He picked up a small blue container and popped something into his mouth. I tried not to imagine what it was. “I did.”

“And as you’re aware, the box was opened.”

“I am.” He held out the box and I forced myself to look inside. “Hershey’s Kiss?”

Hershey’s Kiss. My favorite. I shook my head. “The Sins found a witch. They’ve taken my parents.”

“What would you like me to do about it?”

“Obviously, I’d like your help getting them back alive,” I snapped.

In the blink of my eye, he was in front of me, lips twisted in an angry snarl. “Watch your tone, child.”

I froze.

He took a step back. “So you’d like my aid in reacquiring them, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“And what are you willing to trade?”

I had to be very careful. Wording was tricky when it came to demons. Making deals with them was even trickier.

“If you want me to consider helping you, I need something in return.” He waited a moment.

“I’m guessing you won’t take a check?”

He shook his head. “What else ya got?”

“Um, I have a fifty dollar gift card to Barnes and Noble, but something tells me you’re not a reader…”

Circling like a vulture, he said, “May I make a suggestion?”

“Sure.”

“Service.” He stopped and leaned back against the edge of his desk.

“Huh?”

“Your parents for fifty years of service.”

“Why not just ask for my soul while you’re at it,” I yelled. Somehow, though, when I’d chosen to go this route, I knew this would be his request. Mom was too eager—too willing—to keep Dad and his element away from me. There was more to this than they’d said. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to find out what. Not with their lives on the block.

“I just did.” He circled again. “I would own your soul for the next fifty years. Think of it as—a loan. In that time, you would work for me—in a similar manner as your father. Should you breech that contract in any way, I keep possession of your soul.”

I didn’t answer right away. He smiled. “Take it or leave it, pumpkin. Going once…”