A Wolf at the Door

Well, I did, and I could easily go change, but the obstinate part of me balked at having my wardrobe dictated. “Nothing like pinning a big sign on your back saying ‘Hey, I’m a bodyguard!’”

“The appearance of force often does more good than the application of force.” Tai shrugged his broad shoulders and had a seat on the other couch while I blinked in surprise. I liked him already. Man, I hoped he didn’t turn out to be the bad guy.

The next hour was rather pleasant. I put Bobby through the disk test too, with the same unimpressive results, then sat and watched some TV with the bodyguards and got to know them a bit. They seemed like decent guys, really, and serious about their duties. They weren’t just arm candy for some celebrity princess.

Tai, of course, had played college football until he blew out his knee. He’d gone on to finish his degree after his injury, and had been drafted into some light bodyguard work due to his impressive size and tattoos.

“Most people don’t care if their guards can actually do the job, they just want the scariest-looking mother they can find.” He shrugged. “I decided, if I was gonna call myself a bodyguard, I should at least know how to do the job. Got into some training classes, some certifications, found out I had a knack for it. Bounced around a little, mostly working big events instead of any specific celebrity. Then Gretchen had that stalker thing going on, and she put the word out she was looking for some help. Hired me after the first interview.”

“And you?” I looked at Bobby.

“I was a marine for twelve years, did two tours in Afghanistan. When I came back, a buddy suggested this kind of work. Like Tai, I bounced around a bit before Gretchen hired me. People hire for appearance and reputation. I don’t look scary like the animal man over here.” He nudged Tai with his boot and a grimace that I was starting to understand passed for his smile. “So I had to get some cred behind me to get the good gigs.”

The military background didn’t surprise me. It was more than his buzzed haircut. It was something in the way he stood and sat, something in his posture. I can’t really describe it, but I’m pretty good at spotting it. Ivan stood the same way, and I’d always suspected he was military at some point, too.

“Do you like it?”

Bobby thought for a moment before answering. “It’s not like being in combat or anything, and the money’s decent. So that’s good. But it can be pretty damn stressful at times anyway. Gretchen can be pretty demanding.”

Inwardly, I cringed. Yeah, I’d noticed that. “She get like that a lot?”

The two men traded looks, trying to decide how much to reveal to a total stranger. I could respect that. I imagine bodyguards didn’t stay employed long if they started blabbing secrets all around Hollywood.

Finally, it appeared that Tai relented, but I caught a subtle nod from Bobby. Well, that settled which one of them was in charge. “Gretchen can be a bit…high maintenance. I mean, everybody knows that. But she’s not some dumb bimbo either. She’s wicked smart, and really good at what she does. She has Reggie managing her stuff, sure, but she keeps super-close track of every penny, every investment. And if she’s really into getting her own way, it’s because she knows her shit and how it all needs to be done.”

“And she’s good to us,” Bobby added. “We always get a Christmas bonus, and she’s real good about vacation time if we want it, or sick days or stuff. I’ve had way worse jobs.”

It occurred to me that I’d constructed some kind of preconceived notion of what I’d find in Miss Gretchen Keene. A spoiled, self-entitled princess, walking all over everyone around her and making unreasonable demands just for giggles. The imperious orders from on high earlier had kind of borne that out. But I hadn’t expected this kind of genuine loyalty from her people. I thought I had a pretty good handle on what kind of men Bobby and Tai were, and if they were willing to back her up, there had to be more there than I was seeing.

Still, there was that whole “collecting souls” thing. Selling your own was one thing. Screwing other people over was another. Wasn’t sure I could get past that part.

But, wasn’t my job to decide what kind of person she was. It was my job to watch her back. “So, what do you make of all…this?” Neither of them had even blinked when Gretchen called me a demon slayer, and their reaction—or lack thereof—intrigued me.

“What, like this whole demon-slaying thing?” Bobby shrugged his shoulders. “This is Hollywood, man. Anything goes. Doesn’t surprise me that there’s people running around selling their souls.”

Tai nodded his agreement. “Just one more crazy thing in the long line of crazy things we see every day.”

“So you’ve seen one? A demon?”

They exchanged looks, then shook their heads again. “Nothing like that. Just…seen stuff sometimes, y’know? Weirdness. Figure it’s all part and parcel.”

“Have you guys noticed anything weird going on lately?”