Temping is Hell (10 page)

Why am I noticing that
?

Why do I keep noticing
her
?

She wasn’t all that beautiful. But there was something about her that clicked with him, that made him feel more focused. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad one.

Then her chin went up, and her eyes gleamed. “Add fifteen percent to that,” she said, “and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Now his eyes widened. “Isn’t that a little much for a glorified I.T. training position?” he drawled.

“You’re the one who needs me, pal,” she said, echoing him.

More true than she knew. “Okay,” he said. “But I’ll probably want you to do some other stuff, too. Personally. For me.”

Her eyes went round as dinner plates, and that sexy mouth of hers fell open in shock.

“Administrative stuff,” he amended quickly, then wondered if the sudden heat in his face meant he was turning red. “You know. Filing and, er, typing or something.”

“Oh. No problem.” She took a deep breath. “There’s one other thing…”

“You’re one hell of a negotiator. You want a company credit card, too? Maybe you want the limo service to take you to work?”

“The guys,” she said, and her jaw set stubbornly. She even took a step closer to him, close enough that he could smell the light notes of perfume she was wearing. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “If I work with them, that means they get treated with decency. That means rest breaks, meals, and absolutely no physical abuse.”

He stared at her, evaluating her. Admiring her.

“This is a deal-breaker, Thomas. I’m not working anywhere that mistreats people like that.”

He felt his chest warm, just a little. Al was probably going to shit kittens—but he wanted her. No, he needed her.

Of course this would be her deal-breaker. It made him happy.

And ashamed.

“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.

Her hand was surprisingly small in his, her grip surprisingly firm.

“Deal,” she said, then laughed, a rueful sound. “Feels like I’m making a deal with the devil.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dry. “Those need contracts signed in blood.”

And God, didn’t he know that one.

Chapter Eight

What would you do for a paycheck, huh?

Kate had barely slept the night before. She told herself that at least this way, she was ensuring that the workers wouldn’t be mistreated. At least, they wouldn’t while she was there, watching… and that was assuming Thomas was a man of his word. Right now, she didn’t trust anyone, least of all the man who had come to her house in his limo, offering a deal she couldn’t refuse.

And who might still have me killed, right?
One to grow on.

She was here because her parents needed the money. For the first time, they needed
her
to bail
them
out. She wasn’t going to hurt people or allow them to be hurt, but she wasn’t going to stand rigidly by her principles and let them lose the house, either.

Now more than ever, she wasn’t going to fuck it up.

When the elevator doors opened on the basement floor, Thomas was waiting for her. Unfortunately, he looked as handsome as ever, and her stomach traitorously did a little mambo.

She’d need to have a little sit-down with her hormones to discuss the finer points of things like ethics and humanity and anything beyond a yummy-looking torso.

To her surprise, Al was standing next to Thomas, scowling like an octogenarian peanut leaning on his bone-handled cane. “You’ve got some nerve, missy,” he said, by way of greeting.

“Good morning to you, too.” She refused to let him cow her. He’d gotten away with torturing the guys because no one would stand up to him. She figured he was like any other abuser—blaming the victim and doing whatever he could get away with.

Well, fuck that.

She was laden down with shopping bags. He ignored her as she put the stuff on a table, pointing a gnarled, pencil-thin finger at her instead.

“You think you can handle this crew? Do you have any idea what they’ve done? What they’re capable of?”

Kate felt her back go straight as a ruler. “I think they’re capable of a lot,” she said, with exaggerated cheer meant for maximum annoyance. “They’ll find your documents in no time!”

If Al’s scowl went any deeper, you would see it on the other side of his head. “Let’s just see how long you survive down here, girl.” His voice had an almost wolf-like growl.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Thomas said, pulling a folded document out of his breast pocket with a flourish.

“
That
reminds you?” Kate asked, bewildered.

Thomas smiled. Damn his nice smile. He held out the document and a pen. “Paperwork. You’re not a temp anymore—you’ll be my employee.”

She glanced at Al, then back at Thomas.

“Answering directly to me,” Thomas added. She could hear Al’s teeth grinding like the gears on a truck, and she suppressed her own grin of relief. Working for Al would suck.

She glanced over the paperwork. “I don’t have to sign in blood, right?”

“You told her?” Al said. “Well, I doubt her soul’s worth much, but every bit helps, I suppose.”

“Not this time,” Thomas said, frowning at Al.

“Very funny,” Kate muttered, signing.

Al stepped up to her. He smelled like tobacco, she noticed, and cedar. And dust.

“You’re not going to get anywhere,” he said. “This lot? Incorrigible. They’ll see how soft you are, and they’ll use you. Without the lash, they won’t do anything. They’re lazy, they’re conniving, and they’ll do whatever they can to screw you over.”

“You can’t go around
hitting
people to get them to work!” Kate felt like shaking the old man. “We’re not building the pyramids here! What’s
wrong
with you?”

His eyes widened. “They’re not exactly
people
.”

Thomas made a warning noise. They both ignored him.

Kate stepped up to the old man—and noticed she was about three inches taller. “They’re people to me. If they don’t get treated humanely, then I walk. That was the deal.”

“You’re challenging me, girl?” Al’s onyx eyes gleamed; she couldn’t tell if he was pissed or thrilled. “Because I know exactly how to handle women, and other subordinate creatures who don’t know their place.”

“You hit me, old man,” she said, in a low voice, “and you’d better—”

“All right, you two, that’s enough,” Thomas said, stepping between them. “Al, that was the arrangement. You’ll be here as facilitator, but Kate’s in charge of the…
guys
for right now. She’s going to train them on how to use the scanner.”

Kate nodded, feeling a little boost of triumph as Al glowered—and backed down.

“But Kate,” Thomas said, “if the guys give you a hard time, or don’t do the work—if you don’t have the twelve names in one month—then we’re going to have to come up with a different solution.”

She glanced around. There were mountains of paperwork. As in the warehouse scene in
Raiders of the Lost Ark
scale. The stuff seemed endless.

Al was the one grinning triumphantly now. She could only imagine what the “different solution” would be if she failed.

You should get out of here
, her conscience murmured.

This place is dangerous
, her subconscious warned.

But as she was looking at the paperwork, she saw that the guys were looking at her, too. Some with puzzlement, some with gloating—but some with a tentative, almost curious shine of hope in their eyes. Best of all, it seemed like Dexter was gone.

She saw Slim, who nodded at her, smiling.

She straightened. “We’ll find your names,” she said to Thomas, but then addressed the group. “Right, guys?”

They looked at one another. “Yes?” Slim answered for them tentatively.

She sighed. “Okay. We’ll practice the teamwork,” she muttered to herself, then stepped in front of them.

Thomas stepped next to her, his arms crossed. “For the time being, Kate is going to be the one directing you. The Overseer is not.”

They definitely looked surprised at that one.

“She will teach you to use the machinery,” Thomas said. “And she’ll make sure that I get the results I need. She’s my
employee
,” he emphasized. “So I don’t want there to be any… incidents. Understood?”

Incidents?
Kate thought, but then Thomas turned to her. “Care to address the troops?”

She cleared her throat. They were all staring at her, nervous, expectant. Some were even looking at her warily, like she’d pull out a cattle prod and go to town.

“Well, let me start off by saying that there’s a new sheriff in town,” she said.

They stared blankly.

“Don’t know that one. Ah.” She felt her cheeks heat, but she plowed forward. “We need to find twelve names… Well, eleven now. Based on a special symbol,” she said, holding up the picture.

“We know that,” one of the guys said, his voice sulky. “Why do we need to use the machines?”

“It will be faster. More efficient, fewer mistakes. A lot less reading.”

Their expressions showed they were obviously unsure about this whole situation.

“Also, your schedule’s going to change a bit,” she said. “You’ll get rest breaks. You’ll have meals. And you won’t get beaten or physically punished.”

Now they looked gobsmacked.

“So… how do you think we will work?” a man asked. Unlike the first guy, he wasn’t being a smart-ass—he seemed genuinely stunned.
You mean people actually work without being beaten? How does that happen?

“Oh, honey,” she murmured, then walked over to the shopping bags. “Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to…”

She held up a box of Ho Hos.

“The Incentive Plan.”

From that moment, she had them riveted. Within the next hour, she had them paying attention to her every word. By lunch—which Thomas provided—they were steadily trying to work their scanners, although she swore she saw one of them
sniff
it.

“First box of Ho Ho’s to the guy who meets his quota by dinner,” she said, and was gratified when they let out a ragged cheer. She decided that the Ho Hos were like gold, and so she went to ask Al if he could at least lock the suckers away—being in control of someone’s happiness seemed up his Evil Overlord alley.

Al was on the phone, she noticed, and he didn’t know she was there. “This is a farce,” he told whoever was on the other line. “But probably a short one.”

She felt her chin go up. Well, it wasn’t a surprise that he didn’t believe in her. It
would
be a surprise when she got the names without a single whiplash—
surprise for you, asshole
.

“Well, I don’t expect her to last that long.”

She’d heard that before, too, from nicer places than this. She grinned smugly.

“If the workers don’t murder her,” he said, “I imagine exposure to the contracts will cause possession, if not insanity, in a matter of days, at that.”

She froze.

Wait, what?

…

Thomas was proud of himself for not going down to the basement to check on the progress until lunchtime. He figured it was natural to have some eagerness—the contracts they found would be the key to saving his ass and his soul, not necessarily in that order—and he was wary, as well. He’d found out about the two dead temps when he’d first arrived in Oakland, and their deaths preyed on him. He didn’t balk at the idea of death, or even killing, considering what he needed to do in the next year. But stupidity and careless, pointless deaths were unacceptable. They’d died because only he—and by extension, “his” people—were protected. Temps did not count. The employment contract Kate had signed would prevent the demons from killing her.

At least, he hoped.

He wasn’t sure if any other bodily harm was included in that, or if Al had conveniently left another “loophole.” Despite the surprisingly ironclad nature of these metaphysical contracts, there was always a loophole.

Just like in the “real” world.

He also wasn’t sure if Kate was in the throes of possession, like Pablo from I.T. had been. He dreaded the thought of seeing that ugly, misshapen process hitting Kate.

So why are you risking her?

He set his jaw, stepping out as the elevator doors opened on the sublevel, ignoring the slight but insistent nudges of his conscience. He was risking her because he had to. He needed the names. He needed to get free before Cyril took possession of his soul and his will.

He’d protect her as best he could. With the amount of money he was paying her, and the bonuses he’d lavish on her, he felt certain he’d make it up to her. But for right now, risking her was a necessary evil.

Sure. You keep telling yourself that.

Yagi was there in the basement, waiting. Thomas had sent him to check on the progress several times, saying to only report if something had gone seriously wrong. While he trusted Yagi, he got the feeling Yagi’s definition of “seriously wrong” and his were probably grossly different.

“Is she okay?” Thomas said without preamble. Then he scowled. Damned sneaky conscience.

Yagi’s eyebrow shot up at the question. “
She’s
shockingly well.”

Thomas stopped. “What do you mean?”

“She got them to use the scanners. She drew pictures on a flip chart. She’s got stickers for those of them going through the paperwork correctly; she’s already distributed two boxes of… Ho Hos.” He made a sneer of disgust. “It’s like demon daycare.”

“Woot! We have another winner!” Thomas heard Kate yell. He glanced over to see her on a table-top, her red hair pulled up in a jaunty ponytail, her face bright with excitement.

The demons at her feet yelled “Woot!” in response.

She presented a box of Ho Hos, and the demon who won was grinning like a five year old—while simultaneously fighting off other demons who were scrabbling for his prize.

“Hey, now,” Kate said, snapping at them. Physically
snapping her fingers
at demons. “Fair’s fair. You can win your own box!”

Thomas waited for the teeth to bare, the snarls to start. They might not be able to kill her, but they could sure as hell
frighten
her.

But they didn’t.

The damned things backed down. A couple of them with sheepish expressions.

Thomas turned to Yagi. “Okay, what just happened there?”

“I have never seen anything like it,” Yagi hissed. “And I survived the Oni Uprising of Forty-Five.”

Thomas had no idea what that meant, but from the sounds of it, it wasn’t good. “Is it the sugar?” He made a mental note to stock up on Ho Hos.

“No. I think it’s her.”

“You positive?”

“It’s like she has them in thrall, somehow.” Yagi nodded at Al, who was watching the proceedings, seething. “If she didn’t, your sour friend wouldn’t be quite so upset.”

“Has she found any more signatories?”

“Three since the first hour.”

Thomas felt a punch of triumph. “No wonder Al’s pissed.” Considering the amount of time Thomas had wasted on Al’s suggestions, he was pretty pissed himself. “And she’s showing no signs of possession?”

“None that I can see.”

Thomas caught the edge in Yagi’s voice. “You don’t sound happy about that.”

“She should be insane. She should be
dead
, Thomas. It’s unnatural.” Yagi paused meaningfully. “And it’s suspicious.”

“Everything’s suspicious to you,” Thomas said, nonetheless feeling a little twinge of alarm skitter across the back of his neck. “In fact, that’s why I hired you. You get to be paranoid for me.”

“I’m not joking,” Yagi said quietly. “The only reason I can think of for why she isn’t possessed as a result of contracts exposure is that she’s already possessed by someone else… Or that she’s already signed.”

That stopped Thomas cold. “What do you mean, already signed?”

“If she has already signed her soul over to someone, it’s not in play. Possession is not an option in that case,” Yagi explained. “It would be like renting out an apartment that’s already occupied.”

Already signed. He could just imagine who would have signed her… and sent her. “How do we know for sure?”

Yagi closed his eyes, going still as a stone. Then he glared at Kate.