In the reception area, Sinnamon was indeed investigating our variety of snacks, tiny sparks falling from his nose as he sniffed. The moment he saw me, he abandoned his exploration and trotted over, tail wagging frantically.
"No," I said firmly, pointing at the door. "Go home. Back to Ashcliff. Shoo."
Sinnamon sat down, looking up at me with glowing eyes that somehow managed to be simultaneously demonic and adoring.
"I mean it," I continued, trying to sound authoritative. "I don't need any more complications. Your master has already given me plenty to deal with."
At the mention of Malrik, Sinnamon's ears perked up, and he made a sound that was suspiciously like a snicker.
"Don't you start," I warned him. My frustration caused the air conditioning to kick on with unusual vigor.
Mariposa appeared in the doorway, her wings fully extended in what I recognized as her maximum gossip-collection posture. "Charlie, darling, is everything alright? I heard some commotion and—" She spotted Sinnamon and gasped in delight. "Oh! It's absolutely adorable!"
Sinnamon pressed his warm body against my leg with what could only be described as protective devotion.
"Well," I said, looking down at my new shadow, "this complicates things."
"Nonsense," Mariposa chirped. "He's clearly chosen you. How romantic! A gift from your new client."
"He's not a gift," I protested. "He's an... escape artist. He somehow found his way here from across town."
"Darling," Mariposa said with the patient tone of someone explaining basic facts to a child, "hellhounds don't just wander around Mystic Ridge. They're drawn to compatible power." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Which raises some very interesting questions about your recent activities."
Before I could formulate a response that didn't involve admitting to the Malrik mishap, my next appointment arrived early. Through the glass door, I could see Mrs. Sanderson from the botanical society, clutching her purse and looking around nervously.
"I should take this meeting," I said, grateful for the interruption.
"Of course, darling." Mariposa gathered her things. "But we're definitely continuing this conversation later. I want every detail about Ashcliff Manor." She paused at the door. "And Charlie? You might want to invest in some fire extinguishers. Just a thought."
After she left, I looked down at Sinnamon, who gazed back with what I could have sworn was smug satisfaction.
"This is still temporary," I told him firmly. "Just... a longer temporary than initially expected."
Sinnamon yawned, revealing tiny ember-bright teeth, then settled his head on my shoe as if to say, "Keep telling yourself that."
I pulled out my phone to call... who? Animal control? A priest? The demon who'd caused this mess in the first place? The screen flickered, as if mocking the idea that I had any control left.
6
MALRIK
The connection snapped tight again, flooding me with embarrassment so acute I actually winced. Followed by anger. Directed squarely at me.
Somewhere across Mystic Ridge, Charlie Davenport was discovering exactly what I'd done to her.
I set down the contract I'd been pretending to read for the past hour and crossed to the window. The manor stretched out below, grounds perfectly maintained, cliffs dramatic against the churning sea. Everything in its place. Everything under control.
Except for the mortal woman who now carried a piece of me and was, apparently, having the worst morning of her life.
Another pulse hit me. Frustration this time, sharp as broken glass.
I'd been sensing her emotions since dawn. Not thoughts, thankfully. Just feelings, raw and unfiltered. Every spike of frustration, every flash of embarrassment. It was intrusive. Distracting. And far more intimate than I'd anticipated when I'd assured her the transfer was "harmless."
I should have been concerned. Should have been devising ways to help her manage until the effects faded.
Instead, I found myself wondering what had set her off this time. Malfunctioning coffee maker? Rogue electronics?
The irony was exquisite. I, who had orchestrated wars with nothing more than whispered temptation, was undone by the temper of a mortal woman and her malfunctioning electronics.
