Page 51 of Primal Mirror

Her heart stuttered, even though she knew that was foolishness.

Then the door opened.

Charisma walked in first. “NDA signed.” She slid a copy of the physical contract over to Auden. That was a quirk of changelings—they wanted things in physical form.

Auden ran her eyes over it, but saw nothing, her attention on the leopards who waited outside. “Good,” she said out loud. “Let’s get this meeting underway.”

Her skin prickled before he prowled into the room. The predator she’d decided to trust because there was no other choice…and because he’d never yet caused her harm. She couldn’t say the same for any other person in her immediate circle.

“Ms. Scott,” he said, with an incline of his head, while she fought not to let her mouth fall open.

Remi Denier was wearing a suit. A cool gray one he’d paired with a white shirt and a tie in a darker gray. His hair was neatly brushed back, his jaw shaved. You’d have taken him for one very good-looking CEO…but for the wildness that prowled beneath his skin and lived in his eyes for a heartbeat in a glimmer of yellow-green.

Relieved beyond belief at seeing that he was still the same wild creature, even in this corporate skin, she said, “Mr. Denier. I apologize for not rising to greet you.” She’d now passed the eight-month mark, and her body felt like it was all belly.

“Call me Remi,” he drawled, following her lead without a hitch. “And I’d have been insulted if you rose. This is Mliss Phan, my chief operating officer. She’ll be your people’s first point of contact should you accept our proposal. Though, of course, you will always have a direct line to me.”

“Ms. Phan.” She greeted the other woman before waving to the seats. “Please.”

“Ms. Scott,” Mliss Phan responded with a smile. “And please, call me Mliss.”

Tall, with a stylish haircut and a light layer of cosmetics applied with a skilled hand, Remi’s chief operating officer wore a black pantsuit paired with a simple silk shell of dark green. Look at her corporate appearance, her complete civility of expression and you’d never, not for a second, guess that this woman was a changeling, much less a leopard.

“You’ve met Charisma Wai,” she said to Remi. “Mliss, Charisma will be the primary contact person from our end.”

“I think we’ll work well together,” Mliss said with a smile. “From our correspondence thus far, Ms. Wai is efficient and thorough, and I prize nothing more in business.”

Charisma, her seat beside Auden’s, leaned forward to brace her forearms against the table. “I must say the same. I was pleasantly surprised by our interaction. Forgive me if this is ignorant, but we’ve heard rumors of less than businesslike dealings with changelings.”

That was a ringing endorsement coming from Charisma.

“Bit players.” Mliss sighed. “I’m sure you have them among the Psy, too. RainFire takes its business operations as seriously as the DarkRiver leopards in San Francisco. In fact, we based our business model on theirs—no point in messing with success.”

“I see.” Charisma’s telepathic voice in Auden’s mind. This is excellent. While DarkRiver has been problematic in many ways politically speaking, their business reputation is stellar. The only complaints come from the usual quarter.

Those who wish to find loopholes in contracts and throw a tantrum when they can’t, Auden answered. The lack of emotion in Silent Psy had never stopped behavior that Psy like her mother and father found excruciating.

To them, cheating your partner in business was fine—if you could do it in a way that no one ever caught on and there was no risk to your reputation. That they’d both thought that an acceptable way of doing business—and had taught their minor child the same—was an accurate assessment of their morals and values.

The worst of it was that they’d done it to her: made her believe in a truth except for the one right before her eyes. Henry more so than Shoshanna—but even Shoshanna had convinced Auden she had value to her: as a genetic legacy if nothing else.

“So”—a deep voice, clear eyes of topaz brown rimmed with yellow-green, drawing her back from the past—“you’ve seen the proposal and since we’re here, you must like it. Shall we talk contracts?”

“That’s highly presumptuous of you,” she said, playing the game because it was expected, even though she was exhausted from maintaining her front for four endless days. “Your proposal is passable, but we need to negotiate more than a few matters.”

Remi’s eyes narrowed, his gaze skimming her face as if he could read her tiredness. His response when it came, however, was even. “Where do you want to start?”

An hour of vigorous debate later and they had a satisfactory-to-both-sides breakdown of contract terms. “Charisma,” she said, “please take charge of drafting this up and sending it to our future partners for review.” She winced. “I apologize. Ris, would you be able to get me a glass of nutrients?”

Remi looked like he was about to offer to rise, but she met his eyes with a silent no. He frowned. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” she said, as Charisma got up. “I just need an infusion of energy. Happens at times with my current status.”

The instant the other woman was out of the room, she turned the contract terms toward herself, went to an empty page of the physical pad on which they’d been working, and made a note. “I have an idea about point seven,” she said. “It’s minor, but it could prove profitable on both sides.”

Remi read the note before throwing back his head in a laugh that was a caress over her parched skin. “It would only be profitable for you,” he said, then ripped out the page and scrunched it up into a ball in his hand. “We’re new, Ms. Scott, but we’re not green.”

Though her pulse was racing, Auden lifted a shoulder in a mild shrug. “It was worth the attempt. You may have been more gullible than it appeared.”

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