Draevus cupped his hands and shouted the squintable distance away. “Go to hell, Calamisis!”
“Fuck you!” a small voice retorted.
“He likes me.” Draevus smiled and waved, earning a finger in response. “He’ll be out by the end of the year.”
I wouldn’t hold my breath. Esmeray seemed intent on anything else but accepting his father’s aid. But I couldn’t blame him. I admired it.
Maybe I’d come to love that stubborn side.
In the meantime? I could definitely fuck it.
Chapter Ten
Esmeray
I arrived at the office parking lot two days before my official restart date, appreciating the gentle purr of the new car that I had purchased for a song and a dance, and it reminded me of the last time I’d gone vehicle shopping and been so sickened by the salesmen that I’d just left and bought the first piece of shit with readily available online DIY videos and spare parts.
Gre walked in with me, directed me toward a sales agent, and told him in no uncertain terms that I got whatever I wanted. He wrote a small check, and that was it. I drove a shiny little manual Mazda home, all leather interior, heated seats, the works, for absurdly cheap. Gre had apparently rectified a coital issue of the owner’s, which had given him his first son. Everyone was happy. Especially me. It didn’t feel like charity.
Ausmius crawled around the new car that morning as I parked in my assigned spot up front, one of the few perks I allowed my father. Pissy clients and horny alphas didn’t take well to omegas with power or status, and it had resulted in a confrontation or two that I’d fended off quite easily, but had almost snuffed a gentleman who would forever remember to keep his hands to himself. In a jar on his desk. Perhaps he would keep his nubs to himself, too.
When I walked through the front doors, the front desk receptionist stared at me with wide eyes and simmering fear, the look not unique as I made my way to the elevators and then the third floor where I sidled into my back, windowless office. Having an office with a lockable door for omegas was handy when I needed to work during my estrus. It could bedistracting.
Whispers and rumors followed me as I opened my office door and found a mountain of paperwork sagging in my in-basket, all data aggregation and summary files that I needed to catalogue and organize for the partners. I enjoyed the work immensely. I cracked my knuckles, settled into a seat, and started my computer. While it did its thing, I upended the pile on my desk to work from the bottom.
The Randall account had more accounting documents. The Morrison divorce needed more financial discovery because Annabelle was certain her husband was hiding assets.He was.But, such was the norm, and all things were found eventually if the pay was right.
Each file I organized, ticked off boxes and put them into correct piles to go to the other interns or departments as needed. I kept the mage files, as that was my specialty—magic law.
Toward the more recent of my files, I spied a name, Lymmings. “Motherfucker.”
Ausmius, who hadn’t recovered from my mating, rose up the wall and peered over my shoulder, his shape reflecting in the little glass ornament I kept on my desk. “Basstaaarrrrdddd.”
His hiss made me raise a brow, the sharp, thin, line of my manicured brow arching in a pleasing fashion. I liked the way it did that, fierce and confident. Succubus genes were no joke.
“Tell me about it.” I opened the file and glanced over the paperwork as my stomach knotted. Malarthe Lymmings had issued a complaint with the bar that I had used my succubus powers to seduce him and had cornered him in a stairwell after the hearing in an attempt to sexually assault him.
My upper lip curled, sharp teeth glinting back at me. “Shit.”
My door opened soon after, Father standing there with a sickened sneer. “This complicates my other cases with the guild, you understand. His suit against you makes our main magic law expert a conflict of interest.”
“Fuck, what is he playing at?”
“Playing a stupid game with decent prizes.” Father leaned against the doorway, face a mask of anger that I really didn’t want to test. “How is your mate?”
I glanced up. “Succeeding where you failed.”
He frowned in thought for a moment and raised a brow similar to my own.Ok, perhaps not succubus genes.“At what, dare I ask?”
“Did you see the new car out there?” I gestured, pen in hand, toward the lot as Ausmius slithered about lamely. He feared Father to an extent but was far too deflated, unenergetic.
“I did. It’s not a luxury car by my standards, but it is one less shitty car in that lot making me look like a miser.” He sniffed.
“When you pay the other interns more, I’ll take more money.” I turned my attention back to the documents and glanced at his accusations. “I’ve done no such thing as he’s claiming. I don’t even have seductive thaumaturgy.”
“I know that. You know that. Many know that, but it’s our burden to prove in the court of law.” I huffed and pulled out a sticky note of some pestilent yellow variety, as was the professional norm, for some hellforsaken reason.
“I’ll need to see a hell-borne cleric for a letter of attestation for my gifts.” I made a quick note in my slanted, sharp script. The felt-tip pen I preferred scratched so delightfully in the silence.
