Only the front wheels of the SUV had gone into the ditch; a good two thirds remained firmly on the wide shoulder. The engine purred quietly to itself, the sound barely audible and nothing came out of the exhaust in spite of the cold. It was a deep maroon with a high gloss finish that looked like it could withstand a meteor strike and, in spite of four-wheel drive and heavy duty suspension, this was likely as far off road as it had ever been.
Squinting through the tinted glass, Dean realized the thin, blonde woman behind the wheel was on the phone. When he tapped on the driver’s door window, she opened it a finger’s width but continued looking down at the laptop open on the leather upholstery of the passenger seat. “Ma’am, you don’t need to call for a tow. You’re barely off the road; you can just back up.”
She ignored him and kept talking.“…telling you the bank beat by nine cents the average estimate of sixty cents a share.”
“Ma’am?”
A slender hand in a burgundy leather glove waved vaguely in his direction.“But you’re forgetting that volatile capital markets allowed a forty-five percent increase in fees, and that’s where you can attribute most of the profit growth.”
“I’m after heading back to my truck now.”
“Look, Frank, it was loan volumes that brought the interest income up nine percent to three hundred and thirty-seven million dollars.”
“Ma’am?”
“Three hundred and thirty-seven million dollars, Frank!”
“Never mind.”
[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: img_5]
Claire and Austin were waiting inside the truck.
“I guess the driver’s all right,” Dean told them as Claire lifted Austin off the driver’s seat and onto her lap, “but she wouldn’t actually talk to me.”
“She? Should I go?”
“Got three hundred and thirty-seven million dollars?” When Claire answered in the negative, he grinned. “Then I doubt she’ll talk to you either.” Putting his glasses back on after carefully wiping the condensation off the lenses, he frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“A new Summons; stronger than these little roadside things.” She rested her chin on the top of Austin’s head. “It feels strange.”
“Is it the angel, then? ’Cause if I wasn’t scared abroad by Hell, an angel won’t trouble me much.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Only one way to find out.” He pulled carefully onto the highway. “Which way?”
“North.”
[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: img_5]
“So, dear, when you call yourself a demon—is that a club?”
“No.” Byleth sagged farther down in the back seat, the shoulder belt preventing a really good slouch. “It’s not a fu…”
“Language.” Half turning, Eva raised a cautioning finger.
“It’s not a club.” Byleth had no idea how the mortal woman did it. Something about her tone of voice, her expression, evoked an instinctive obedience. If the Princes of Hell could figure it out, they’d be…well, since they were already ruling Hell, nothing much would change but the shouting. Hell could do with a little less shouting in Byleth’s opinion.
“It’s not a gang, is it?” Harry asked, trying to catch her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Because I know how seductive gangs can be. Black leather and motorcycles and…”
“Harry.”
Under the edge of his tweed hat, Harry’s ears pinked.
Eva half turned again.“Harry had a bit of a past before he met me.”
“I’ll bet he did,” the demon muttered.
“What was that, dear?”
“It’snot a gang.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
The day was not going as planned. Coercing the old man into driving her to Toronto had somehow turned into a cheerful family outing. With snacks. She should have walked out right after that big homemade breakfast and found some punk kid who’d just got his license and who’d do anything she asked if she just bounced those really annoying breasts at him in a promising sort of a way. Not that she’d keep the promise, of course. Her kind excelled at broken promises.
“Shall we play license plate bingo, dear?”
Fortunately Harry answered before she could.
“Byleth’s too old for that, Eva. Remember what our lot were like at her age?”
“The boys,” Eva began, but Harry cut her off, one hand leaving the steering wheel just long enough to pat a rounded knee.
“The boys played to make you happy, but our Angela drew the line about the same time she started high school.”
“I suppose,” Eva sighed. Then she perked up and half turned one more time. “Where do you go to high school, dear?”
“I don’t.”
“Oh, you have to get an education, dear. After all, knowledge is power.”
“Power is power,” Byleth snarled. She should have power. She should be able to reach into the dark heart of humanity and twist it to her purposes. Not only had some extra anatomy put an unexpected crimp in her plans—and she was so going to kick that angel’s ass when she found him—but her current minions gave her very little to work with.
“Hey, Mr. Porter, that guy in the import flipped you the finger as he passed.”
Which is not to say she didn’t do what she could.
“Harry, that’s no reason for you to drive faster,” Eva warned.
He smiled at her briefly.“Of course not.”
But the speed crept up.
It didn’t take much to keep it rising.