time, so you’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Set up a schedule—I don’t care how rigorous it is—and make those slackers start putting in their time at the alley.”
I stared incredulously. “You’re here about the bowling competition?”
Both men looked at me, Jerome seeming irritated at the interruption. “Of course. The sooner you start practicing, the better.”
“You know what else might be better the sooner it happens ?” I produced the well-worn HR memo with a flourish. “You telling me if I’m being transferred or not. My money’s on it being a mistake because surely, surely you wouldn’t put off telling me. Right?”
Several heartbeats of silence hung in the room. Jerome held me in his dark, dark gaze, and I refused to look away. At last, he said, “No. It’s real. You’re being transferred.”
My jaw wanted to drop to the ground. “Then why . . . why am I only just now hearing about it?”
He sighed and made an impatient gesture. “Because I just found out about it. Someone jumped the gun and delivered the memo to you before telling me.” His eyes glinted. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t too thrilled about that myself. I made sure they know my feelings on the matter.”
“But I . . .” I swallowed. “I was so sure there was a mistake. . . ”
“There was,” he agreed. “Just not the kind you were thinking of.”
I wanted to sink to the floor and melt away but forced myself to stay strong. I had to ask the next most important question, the question that would shape the next phase of my life.
“Where . . . where am I going?”
Jerome studied me once again, this time I think just to drag out the suspense and agony. Bastard. At last, he spoke.
“You’re going to Las Vegas, Georgie.”
Chapter 5
I ’d been bracing myself for “Cleveland” or “Guam.” I was too much of a pessimist to think I might be offered something even moderately appealing. If I was already going through the trauma of leaving Seattle, then surely it would be for somewhere terrible.
“Did you say Las Vegas?” I asked, sinking down onto my couch. Immediately, I guessed the catch. “Ah. It’s not Las Vegas, Nevada, right? It’s a different Las Vegas. New Mexico ? Or some other continent?”
“Sorry to disappoint you and your martyr fantasies, Georgie.” Jerome lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “It’s Las Vegas, Nevada. I think you even know the archdemon there—Luis. Isn’t he a friend of yours?”
I blinked. “Luis? Yeah. I mean, in as much as an archdemon can be.” That got a small smile from Jerome, though I only barely noticed. I had worked for Luis a long time ago, and if I had to be honest, he was probably my favorite boss of all time. That wasn’t to say Jerome was a terrible one, but Luis—while strict—still had an easy way about him that could sometimes make you forget you were damned for all eternity. “So . . . my orders are to go to Las Vegas and work for Luis.”
“Yes,” said Jerome.
I looked back at him from where I’d been staring vacantly out the window. “Is there any way to change that? To stop it? Isn’t there anything I can do to just stay here? And are you sure it’s not a mistake—what with the delivery mix-up?”
Jerome’s dark eyebrows rose. It was one of those rare moments when he’d been caught off-guard enough to display surprise. “You don’t want to go? I mean, I’m flattered you’d want to stay under my rule, but I’d think you would be pleased with this situation. Las Vegas is perfect for a half-ass succubus like you.”
I ignored the jab—though he had a point. Las Vegas was such a breeding ground for sin and salvation that it was nearly packed to bursting with servants of both Heaven and Hell. It probably had one of the highest concentrations of succubi in the world, meaning it was easy to slide by with quotas. Here, I was the only succubus, so my number of corrupted souls was scrutinized heavily. In Las Vegas, there’d be
I stared incredulously. “You’re here about the bowling competition?”
Both men looked at me, Jerome seeming irritated at the interruption. “Of course. The sooner you start practicing, the better.”
“You know what else might be better the sooner it happens ?” I produced the well-worn HR memo with a flourish. “You telling me if I’m being transferred or not. My money’s on it being a mistake because surely, surely you wouldn’t put off telling me. Right?”
Several heartbeats of silence hung in the room. Jerome held me in his dark, dark gaze, and I refused to look away. At last, he said, “No. It’s real. You’re being transferred.”
My jaw wanted to drop to the ground. “Then why . . . why am I only just now hearing about it?”
He sighed and made an impatient gesture. “Because I just found out about it. Someone jumped the gun and delivered the memo to you before telling me.” His eyes glinted. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t too thrilled about that myself. I made sure they know my feelings on the matter.”
“But I . . .” I swallowed. “I was so sure there was a mistake. . . ”
“There was,” he agreed. “Just not the kind you were thinking of.”
I wanted to sink to the floor and melt away but forced myself to stay strong. I had to ask the next most important question, the question that would shape the next phase of my life.
“Where . . . where am I going?”
Jerome studied me once again, this time I think just to drag out the suspense and agony. Bastard. At last, he spoke.
“You’re going to Las Vegas, Georgie.”
Chapter 5
I ’d been bracing myself for “Cleveland” or “Guam.” I was too much of a pessimist to think I might be offered something even moderately appealing. If I was already going through the trauma of leaving Seattle, then surely it would be for somewhere terrible.
“Did you say Las Vegas?” I asked, sinking down onto my couch. Immediately, I guessed the catch. “Ah. It’s not Las Vegas, Nevada, right? It’s a different Las Vegas. New Mexico ? Or some other continent?”
“Sorry to disappoint you and your martyr fantasies, Georgie.” Jerome lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “It’s Las Vegas, Nevada. I think you even know the archdemon there—Luis. Isn’t he a friend of yours?”
I blinked. “Luis? Yeah. I mean, in as much as an archdemon can be.” That got a small smile from Jerome, though I only barely noticed. I had worked for Luis a long time ago, and if I had to be honest, he was probably my favorite boss of all time. That wasn’t to say Jerome was a terrible one, but Luis—while strict—still had an easy way about him that could sometimes make you forget you were damned for all eternity. “So . . . my orders are to go to Las Vegas and work for Luis.”
“Yes,” said Jerome.
I looked back at him from where I’d been staring vacantly out the window. “Is there any way to change that? To stop it? Isn’t there anything I can do to just stay here? And are you sure it’s not a mistake—what with the delivery mix-up?”
Jerome’s dark eyebrows rose. It was one of those rare moments when he’d been caught off-guard enough to display surprise. “You don’t want to go? I mean, I’m flattered you’d want to stay under my rule, but I’d think you would be pleased with this situation. Las Vegas is perfect for a half-ass succubus like you.”
I ignored the jab—though he had a point. Las Vegas was such a breeding ground for sin and salvation that it was nearly packed to bursting with servants of both Heaven and Hell. It probably had one of the highest concentrations of succubi in the world, meaning it was easy to slide by with quotas. Here, I was the only succubus, so my number of corrupted souls was scrutinized heavily. In Las Vegas, there’d be
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