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That was a good-night kiss? he asked in awed tones.
I was impressed.
He nodded and swallowed hard. I have to go. I ll see you
tomorrow. He gently but firmly put her on the ground, and backed
out the door, edgy as a cat in a thunderstorm. Dayne watched,
bemused, as he all but ran down the walk across the deserted yard
and jumped into his car. The motor revved to life, he jerked and
sputtered out into the street, missed his gear a couple of times, then
finally found it and roared away acting, Dayne thought, very
much like a man who d never before been kissed.
She chuckled and closed the door. If that was a sample of what
kissing him was going to be like, she could as easily say she d
never been kissed either.
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Chapter 35
Lucifer was on the horn the instant Agonostis reached his car.
I have never seen such a colossal screw-up! he howled. He
didn t sound angry, though; instead, he sounded like he was
gloating. An imp could have done a better job of getting her
signature on that contract. And you can t take her another one
she isn t going to sign it after she bleeds on it.
I ve got a line on that. In the next couple of days, I ll have one
of the techs draw her blood. I ll use that in the ink, and have her
sign the same day. It can t miss.
It can miss. You re almost out of time. Agonostis heard cruel
amusement in Lucifer s voice. I m going to hang you over the Pit
yet. His chuckle twisted Agonostis bowels into a knot.
I have time.
Lucifer was no longer laughing. He said, I don t think so. I
don t think so at all. Two more days.
Agonostis slammed on brakes, and the man who had been
driving behind him far too closely swerved to miss him and
went head-on into the rear end of someone else s parked car.
Agonostis was too distressed to even enjoy that. I have a month
of which I ve used only four days.
I changed my mind, Lucifer said. I ve put someone else on
the job but . . . if you can bring Dayne Kuttner in by midnight
Wednesday, I ll gift you with this other as a slave in Hell when I
recall you and perhaps on Earth before then, if it amuses me to
do so. If you can t bring me Kuttner s soul . . . well, after I ve
ripped out your heart and fed it to the Pit beasts once every hour on
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the hour for a millennia or two, I might just make you her slave.
Her who? Dayne s?
Jezerael s.
Agonostis blood felt like ice in his veins. His archenemy was
once again placed to take away from him everything he d earned.
You sent Jezerael to take this job from me, too?
I thought she d enjoy the opportunity. And it seemed a good
idea to let her get familiar with the territory, since I have no doubt
that she ll be taking your place day after tomorrow.
But you promised me a month! Agonostis yelled again.
I lied, Lucifer said, and broke the connection.
Agonostis was furious and he felt no better when he pulled
into the parking lot of what had, only days before, been the
abandoned warehouse. Satco was looking good; after sandblasting,
the brickwork of the building was attractive, and a whole horde of
imps had been put to work landscaping. He could see bits of the
work by the light of pale yellow spotlights scattered among the
sculpted shrubs. A discreet, elegantly lettered sign over the top of
the main doors now done up in black thermopane read, SATCO,
A TINY LITTLE DIVISION OF NETHER-LANDS INDUSTRIES.
Inside, the receptionist, a leccubus emulating female mode for
the night, greeted him with a polite nod of its lovely head and
murmured, Lord and Master. He nodded and looked around the
reception area. He d stepped into deep, plush pile carpet, jade
green that was new and a deeper green-on-green textured
wallpaper, also new. The (new) reception desk was teak, and the
lighting was subdued, recessed and chrome. Several chrome-and-
black-leather chairs sat around a marble cube coffee table covered
with upscale magazines, and potted plants sat in the corners under
their own little puddles of light . . . and the whole thing looked like
it had cost a bundle.
He thought of the money he d signed for and winced. The
prostitution business was pulling in big bucks, but if his underlings
were going to spend money like that, he needed other sources of
income right away.
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He walked past the receptionist as the phone rang, and stepped
through the black glass doors into the main work area. He noticed
the piped-in music for the first time; he tipped his head and
listened. It was an all-tuba Muzak cover of Herman s Hermits
Henry the Eighth which only proved that, wherever Satco was
buying its furnishings, it was still getting its music straight from
Hell.
He stalked past cubicles full of underlings working away on
Hell s business, stepped into his office, and slammed the door
behind him.
In the semi-privacy of his office, he groaned. He dropped into
his chair, kicked his shoes off, and closed his eyes. Dayne s kiss
still tingled on his lips, still vibrated along every trembling nerve in
his entirely too human body. Her kiss . . .
It wasn t supposed to be this way, dammit. He wasn t supposed
to feel anything for her he wasn t supposed to feel anything. She
was meat, nothing but meat.
And yet, when he closed his eyes, he could feel the silk of her
hair against his cheek, and smell the scent of her, sweet and
musky. He could taste her lips as they roved over his, and he could
feel the tight, compact weight of her body held against him, the
firm heaviness of her breasts pressed against his chest, the hard
muscles of her thighs tightening against his waist
Enough! he roared, and jumped to his feet. The chair rolled
backward and bumped into the wall. It was his human body the
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