Page 8 of Love and Brimstone


  She’d lost track of the conversation. Albert noticed her tendency toward distraction around Matthias.

  But that was fair, since Matthias was just as bad. He frequently lost himself in her green eyes.

  “Sorry?”

  “Mister—Robertson? How is your working relationship with Ms. Proctor?”

  “Oh, it’s fine—”

  “Perfect!” Matthias stuck out his hand to Tim, who did a good job of looking genuinely surprised. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Robertson. Glad to have you.” Matthias looked at his buzzing BlackBerry. “Sorry, but I have to take this.”

  Then he left. Taz was so surprised she never noticed Albert slip his own phone back into its holster.

  Later, while Taz was in her office, Albert was “showing” Tim around. They’d ordered Matthias out of the building because of the silly grin he couldn’t control.

  “We did it,” Tim practically crowed.

  “About time, too. I don’t know how much longer I can rein Matthias in. He’s totally besotted by her.”

  * * * *

  After lunch, Taz returned to her office to work. Murry sat in the chair and stared at her, twitching the end of his tail in an irritated fashion.

  At one point she thought she heard someone say, “Silly girl,” but there was no one around. She stared at the cat.

  Murry innocently blinked at her from his perch in the chair.

  Chapter Ten

  Two weeks later, Taz was settled and busy. The office layout was a little smaller, but similar to the LA building, with their executive offices on the top floor. Except now Tim had the office on the other side of her, there wasn’t a security office, and they had a lovely shaded outdoor terrace she took the liberty of outfitting with several large potted tropical palms.

  Matthias was out of the office, or so she thought. Albert and Tim were somewhere together doing research when the receptionist buzzed her.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Proctor. There is a Mr. Babson here to see you.”

  “Babson?”

  “Yes.”

  Taz checked her calendar. “I don’t have anyone listed,” she said.

  “He says he doesn’t have an appointment. He’s very sorry about that, but needs a few minutes of your time for some forms.”

  Murry chose that minute to jump on her desk. Taz gently shooed him off. He returned, meowing loudly, and she wondered if he’d been fed yet. He suddenly seemed very agitated.

  “Okay, ah, hold him for ten then send him up with a visitor access pass.”

  “Yes, Ms. Proctor.”

  Just what I need, she thought.

  Murry jumped up on her desk again and loudly meowed.

  “Stupid—listen!” she thought she heard someone say. But she knew she was alone and shook it off.

  Must be a radio on somewhere. “Murry, you can’t do that. What’s gotten into you?” She scooped him up, scratching him under the chin. “Are you feeling ignored?”

  He shrugged out of her grasp and bolted out the door. She sighed, finished what she was working on, and kept an eye on the time.

  * * * *

  Murry knew Matthias, Albert, and Tim were two floors down. He ran for the stairwell.

  This is bad. Very bad.

  * * * *

  Taz eyed the elevator lights and timed it so she was standing in the hall when the doors opened. She caught a whiff of a strange odor, rotten eggy, reminding her of high school chem lab. She’d have to call Engineering to look at the AC unit.

  “Mr. Babson, was it?” she asked.

  He nodded. He was about her height and wore a cheap grey business suit a size too large. He had flat slate-grey eyes, and thinning reddish hair stuck up at odd angles like he’d been caught in a wind tunnel. He carried a large, scuffed leather briefcase.

  “Sorry to drop in unannounced like this,” he said. “I was told to ask for you in person, that you had the authority to look through these papers.”

  She motioned him to follow her, suddenly not wanting to shake hands with him. “What’s it regarding?”

  There was that funny odor again. Chemical? It was acrid, not smoky, but close. Sharp, odd. She led him to the conference room.

  “Beecham Manor.”

  “I don’t know what that is. I’ll need to get my laptop. Please wait here and make yourself comfortable.”

  He nodded, and she walked to her office.

  * * * *

  Murry found the three men and bounced, hard, off Matthias’ knees.

  “COME NOW!”

  The men looked at the cat and then bolted for the stairs as one.

  * * * *

  Taz smiled as she returned and set her laptop on the conference table. Babson had opened his briefcase and laid a couple of files on the table. He now stood across the room, examining the bookcases, his back to her.

  “Can you please spell that for me?” she asked.

  He did, working his way along the wall toward her, browsing titles while she searched, his back to her, hands in front of him.

  Taz turned to speak to Babson and saw him approaching, a large knife in his hand. She didn’t have time to register what was happening. Matthias suddenly roared through the open conference-room door, carrying a large, upraised sword, and sliced through the intruder.

  By the time Taz scrabbled backward away from them, the knife Babson wielded hit the floor, a bright orange flash lit the room, and then an acrid cloud of dust settled to the carpet.

  Her mouth fell open, her scream imminent.

  Albert and Tim flanked Matthias, who turned to her, lowering the sword as he reached out to her. “Anastazia, are you okay?”

  Murry chose that moment to jump on the conference table, startling her. She screamed—loud, long, panicked. She backed away from Albert and Tim, her hands in front of her, warding the men away.

  Albert turned to Matthias. “Put that damn thing down. Can’t you see she’s frightened?”

  Matthias looked at the sword, laid it on the conference table, and held up two empty hands. “It’s okay, Anastazia. It’s gone. I took care of it.”

  She stopped screaming only because she had to take a breath.

  “Here it comes,” Tim said. Albert shot him a warning look.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  * * * *

  Taz looked at the men, still backing away, still warding them off. Had time slowed? Stopped? Because in the space of less than a few seconds a strange-smelling man attacked her with a knife, her employer took him out with a sword, and the attacker disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

  Not your normal day at the office.

  Matthias tried again. “Anastazia, it’s okay. You’re safe—”

  “What the hell is going on?” she shrieked. Matthias winced.

  Robertson smiled. He was used to her volume. “That’s my girl. She’ll be fine.”

  She turned on him. “What the hell is going on? I want answers!”

  Matthias took a step toward her. She backed away from him. “Calm down and I’ll—”

  “Calm down? Did you just tell me to calm down? What the fuck just happened? Where did that guy go? What the hell is going on—is that a sword?”

  Murry, always helpful, chose that moment to reveal himself to her. “Calm down, sweetie. It was just a demon. Well, not technically a demon, but close enough.”

  She’d started to scream something else, but it died on her lips as she stared at the cat. Her eyes grew even wider as a frightened squeak escaped her slack jaw.

  The cat stepped toward her, across the table, deftly avoiding her laptop. “Yes, you heard me. A demon.”

  She looked at the men, certain she’d just lost her mind. Obviously, what happened was that stress had triggered some sort of mental breakdown and—

  “Yes, Murry just spoke to you,” Tim said gently.

  Must. Focus. On. Breathing. And Taz did just that, the astonishment frozen on her face. She thought. She couldn’t tell for sure, because her whole body had gone numb
.

  * * * *

  She kept the conference table between herself and the men and warily eyed the sword. Albert had pulled Matthias back for fear she’d bolt from the room. They let Tim take point.

  “Taz, honey, it’s okay.”

  “What?” It came out a whisper. She wasn’t screaming anymore, but somehow this was worse. She sounded like her sanity had slipped a cog. Tim couldn’t blame her. Get her through the initial shock first, then figure out how the hell a demon not only tracked her down, but got into the office.

  “Anastazia, Taz, look at me—look at me, sweetheart.” If he could just get her to look into his eyes, he could hopefully calm her, or, if necessary, push her over the edge into a faint. Then they could regroup.

  Her eyes glazed over. She still wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she looked from the sword, to Matthias, who still had his hands up in front of him, showing her they were empty, to Albert, to the cat, who was now licking himself.

  Repeat as necessary.

  “Anastazia, look at me,” Tim tried again. When he took a step forward, she took a step back. He was actually happy to see that, because it meant at least some of her instincts were trying to kick in.

  She was slipping toward shock. Barely a minute had passed.

  He opted for a change in approach. “Anastazia!” He used his angry parent tone, and she looked at him, but before he could catch her gaze she stared at the sword again.

  With his focus still on her, Tim said, “Get. The sword. Out of here.”

  Albert grabbed it and set it around the corner, outside the door.

  “See?” Matthias said. “The sword—”

  “Shut up, Matthias,” Tim and Albert said together.

  Surprisingly, that was all it took to bring her back.

  “What did you call him?” she asked Tim, her tone still too low and far too quiet for his liking.

  “Anastazia, it’s okay. We have a lot we need to talk—”

  “Oh, you bet your ass we do!” Her normally calm and professional veneer had finally shattered.

  The Ice Queen, melted.

  Her eyes still wide, her gaze rapidly skipped from one man to another. She started to tremble, shock imminent.

  Tim tried again. “Sweetheart, look at me. Now.”

  She finally focused on his eyes long enough he could take her. He motioned to Albert, who brought a chair.

  “You have to calm down.” Tim reached out for the woman he loved like a daughter, took her hand, and gently guided her to the chair. He stepped back. He didn’t like to do this to her for too long, but at least she was seated.

  He released her. She blinked and looked at the three men. Her voice still trembled, sounding near breaking. “Will one of you please explain what the hell just happened?”

  Tim struggled to keep his voice low and soft. “It’s very difficult to explain, and it’s a very long story.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Albert poured Taz a glass of water and handed it to Tim, who set it on the table and slid it close to her. She still looked like she could bolt from the chair and run at any moment.

  Or faint.

  She grasped the glass with trembling hands and took a sip.

  When she next spoke, her voice sounded calmer, more like herself, but still unsteady. “What happened? One of you better explain, right now.”

  The men deferred to Tim.

  “It was a daemon pulverem,” he said, pulling a chair close to her so he could face her in case he had to take her again. “A ‘dust demon.’ Technically not a true demon. It’s more closely related to a goblin, but people erroneously call them demons because of the name. Please listen to me. I know this sounds incredible—”

  “So not the word I would have used!”

  “—but please hear me out.” He knew there would be interruptions and chose to ignore most of them. He’d never seen her this way, and it worried him. “For whatever reason, that thing came here today to hurt you.”

  “I’ve never seen that man before in my life!”

  “—and thank God Matthias stopped him.”

  “What happened to the guy?”

  “He went up in a puff of smoke. It’s what happens to a daemon pulverem when you run it through with that sword. And the next—”

  “A demon?”

  “—step is we need to find out who sent it here today, and why.”

  “How long have you known Matthias and Albert? You’ve known them all along, haven’t you?” It didn’t escape anyone’s notice but hers that she’d used Matthias’ first name.

  Finally.

  “We’ll get to that in a minute—”

  “No, we’ll fucking get to it right now!”

  “—because right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Did he hurt you?”

  “Matthias? You came up with him.”

  “The daemon. Did it touch you or hurt you? Did you shake hands with it?”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t a demon?”

  “For the sake of argument, let’s call it that. Did it touch you?”

  She shook her head. “What was he doing here?”

  “Did it say anything, or—”

  “He had the weirdest odor.”

  Tim nodded. “I know. It didn’t touch you? You didn’t shake hands with it?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, good.” Tim reached out, and she let him take her hands. They felt ice cold. He patted them, squeezed them, tried to warm them. “Did it say anything to you?” Tim tried again, not releasing her hands.

  Her tone grew weak as the adrenaline rush faded. He would lose her soon. “No. He said he needed to discuss Beecham Manor, whatever that is. I got my laptop and was looking it up—”

  “That’s fine, Taz. That’s good.” She missed the sharp looks the three men exchanged. That was Matthias’ Florida compound. They hadn’t given her that information yet.

  So how had the intruder found out that information?

  “Do you understand what happened?”

  Wide-eyed, she shook her head. He tried again. “For some reason, that creature was sent here to attack you. We don’t know why.”

  “But we will.” Matthias growled from the corner where he stood, arms crossed, watching.

  “Do you understand?” Tim asked her.

  She shook her head. “There’s no such thing as demons. What’s going on? Have I had a nervous breakdown?”

  Tim worried. She was definitely growing weaker. He needed to piss her off again, refocus her. “You’re not going crazy, but we have been keeping secrets from you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. There she was.

  That’s my girl.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “I work for Matthias.”

  “I know you do.”

  “No. I mean I’ve worked for Matthias for a very long time.”

  She started to speak, stopped, and chewed on that information. For the first time, she really looked at Matthias, then back to Tim. “What?”

  Tim nodded. “I have worked for Matthias Hawthorne since before you were born.” No need to tell her how long.

  Yet.

  She still looked back and forth between them. “You worked for him? You’ve always worked for him?”

  “My job was to protect you and your parents.” And again, no need to tell her more than that just yet. Little bits. Digestible bites.

  “Demon?”

  All three men nodded.

  Taz looked where Tim still massaged her hands. She jerked them away. “I trusted you!” she hissed. “You’re the only family I’ve got!”

  “I have never lied about how much I love you. You are the daughter I never had.”

  She looked at Matthias. “And you! You suckered me into this job.”

  “I had to keep you safe.”

  “Oh, great! I worked for Bob Stanley for ten years and was never attacked by a d
emon a single time!” She looked at them, trying to make sense of the information. “What is so special about me and my family we’d need your protection?”

  Matthias exchanged looks with the other two. He was on his own.

  “Because,” Matthias said, “I’m not normal.”

  “Tell me something I don’t fucking know, Matthias!” Anger had to be a good sign, right? And she was still calling him by his first name.

  Matthias smiled at her.

  “I’m a vampire,” he said.

  She obviously waited for a punch line that wasn’t coming. “And?” she finally asked.

  She looked at the other men. They weren’t laughing.

  “You know, this stopped being funny before it ever started,” she said.

  “No one’s kidding, Taz,” Tim said. “We all are.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Vampires.”

  He nodded.

  She stared at him. “Vampires.”

  He nodded again. She looked at Matthias. “Vampire?”

  Matthias nodded. She looked at Albert. “Vampire?”

  He nodded.

  Back to Tim. “Vampire?”

  He nodded.

  She looked at the table, put her hands on it for balance, and cautiously stood. “Well gentlemen,” she said slowly, eying them. “This has been real, and it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun. If you don’t mind, I’m not sticking around for the second act.”

  “Anastazia!” Tim sounded stern, looked her in the eye, and took control of her again.

  * * * *

  A moment later she found herself back in the chair, wondering how she got there. Tim knelt in front of her and held her hands again. “Please, listen to me. You must believe us.”

  She nodded. “Sure. Okay. Whatever you say.” She ran through the options in her mind. 5150 psychiatric hold? No, that was California. What’d they call it here in Florida? Baker Act, that was it.

  She could get them Baker Acted, and that would mean a hold for evaluation. She had Matthias’ power of attorney, and she could do Robertson because he was family. Albert would be a problem—