Page 22 of Of Blood and Smoke

Sleep pulled me back under, wrapping me up in its darkness.

ELEVEN

Della

The next morning came, hot and humid. Despite the stickiness in the air, I stuck with the outfit I’d picked out last night. As I walked into Ipomoea for my second interview, I had to keep plucking my shirt from my skin, hoping no sweat stains would appear and pleading with the universe my deodorant wouldn't fail. So far, so good.

This time, I’d grabbed a cup of an amazing vanilla coffee from the free bar downstairs, and I now sat in the upstairs waiting room again biding my time until I was called. Christina had greeted me, given me a quick pep talk, and disappeared to wherever she went when she wasn’t herding job candidates.

Last night’s visitation kept popping into my head, forcing my skin to flush despite the artificially cooled air. Previously, I’d thought maybe Brett was messing with me but after my last experience it was glaringly obvious he hadn’t done a thing to me.

No, my faceless man was a complete stranger. I pressed my thighs together, wishing I’d brought a backup pair of panties. Now was not the time to be this turned on, especially by remembering a dream.

It killed me how I didn’t know what he looked like. As bad as I wanted to see his features, at the same time, I was almost worried about a reveal. What if he was hideously disfigured and that’s why he disguised himself? What if he was so terrifying beautiful that one look at him was fatal? I nearly chuckled aloud at my dramatic imagination; I’d never had such vivid dreams before.

The door latch twisted, and I schooled my face as Christina walked in and beckoned me. Following her down the hall, we passed the room I’d been interrogated in yesterday and then stopped outside a black-lacquered door. The wood paneling was carved beneath the slick surface, a mix of modern and old-world style, and starkly beautiful.

Christina knocked twice and the door opened. “Good luck,” she said with a smile. When I entered the room, she sealed the exit with a soft click of the lock.

The man who’d introduced himself as Micha stood and greeted me. “Welcome, Miss Dubois. Please have a seat.” He held an elegant hand out toward a seat facing a large, molded desk.

As directed, I sat down. The man he’d been with previously, who now introduced himself as Josiah, was behind the desk, his back stiff and long fingers steepled in front of his mouth. I had to wonder if he ever took the sunglasses off.

Micha leaned back against the desk and began speaking. “During the interview process, we allow certain liberties. However, once you are on board, there are immutable rules which must be obeyed without question.”

He paused to make sure I was listening, and I nodded my head.

Continuing, he stated, “Josiah and I do not allow eye contact. You must pay attention when and if we speak to you, on the rare occasions we do—but do not meet our gaze. The dress codeis nonnegotiable. No jeans or sweatshirts, no sneakers. Personal grooming must be immaculate without question. It does not appear that will be an issue with you but under no circumstances will you be ‘too tired’ to bathe daily and arrive at work reeking of sweat or sex.” Micha’s nose wrinkled while he glared at me, as if I’d been working on a farm under the hot sun all day before coming here.

Without meaning to, I glanced at Josiah. I caught the slightest hint of a smirk before I quickly turned away. I’d already broken a rule, and I wasn’t even hired yet. Did it count if I wasn’t an official employee?

Micha sighed deeply. “Miss Dubois. Eyes on me.” He gestured to emphasize his directive, spreading his index and middle fingers at his two silvery gray orbs. Which, of course, I looked at.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I really, really needed this job and I was already shooting myself in the foot. “My apologies, I’m sorry,” I said softly, trying to focus on Micha’s neck to demonstrate I’d be a good choice and the ideal employee.

He picked up a tablet from the desk and glanced at it. “There are several positions remaining unfilled, and we’ve considered your attributes against them. At this time, we believe we’d be best served by you being assigned as assistant to Christina.”

My attention was diverted when Josiah gently drummed his fingers against the mahogany. For a moment, I stared, transfixed by the almost mirror-like shine of his nails. I really needed to get my nails done.

“Miss Dubois, must I rethink our decision?” Micha’s stern voice drew me back.

I swallowed before answering. “No, thank you. I was just surprised. I thought there’s be more but thank you. If you are offering, I accept.”

Inwardly I cringed over my sudden presumption. I sensed Josiah moving slightly and had to force myself not to glance his way and instead fixated on Micha’s forest green tie and the gleaming gold pin holding it in place.

In my peripheral vision, I could tell Josiah had removed his glasses and I wanted more than anything to look his way, the mystery compelling me to be fired in my first fifteen seconds of employment. Instead, I bit the edge of my lip and then took a deep breath. He came out from behind the desk and began walking toward the front of the room.

Stubbornly, I forced myself to try and count the diamonds on Micha’s jewelry. Josiah paused right by the back edge of my chair, so close that if I dared to breathe, I’d have touched him. I still didn’t turn, even though the fabric of his suit beckoned me with its buttery soft appearance, even though I could feel the heat emanating from him, pulling me in. It took everything in me to resist the draw. I suspected giving in would’ve meant complete destruction.

“Welcome,” he said, the smooth cadence of his voice flowing over me and sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

What the hell was happening?

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice cracking on the last word. I almost gasped when I finally allowed a rush of oxygen to fill my lungs.

Micha pushed off from the desk and stood in front of me. “Christina will come fetch you in a moment.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “Josiah, we still have business in your chambers.”

Chambers?

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