Page 6 of Asher

The front door of the post office opens, and a man comes out, his face sober in the way that demon faces always are. I’ve never spent too much time studying demons specifically—another reason this is such an exciting opportunity—but colleagues have told me that due to their denser muscle mass, demon facial expressions are less explicit than anyone else’s. So a neutral face could mean nothing, or it could also mean they’re happy to see us. The trick is to look for subtle relaxations and shifts.

“Dr. Smythe?” he calls, and I smile.

“Hello. Please call me Garrett. You must be Jesse, the species leader.”

We meet halfway and shake hands. “It’s so good to meet you,” he says, and I watch his face closely. “Thank you for co— Is there something on my face?” He lifts a hand to his mouth.

“No, I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I’m trying to learn to read demon facial cues. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Note to self: their own subtle muscle movements allow them to read other species’ expressions more easily. I’m not going to be able to hide what I’m feeling here.

“Oh!” His face barely changes, but because I’m paying such close attention, I get the impression of pleasure. “That’s great. The children aren’t used to being around other people, so they don’t exaggerate their expressions like we’ve learned to. You’ll get plenty of practice with them.”

I shoot a glance at Sid, wondering if he’s paying close enough attention to guess what I’m thinking. He pulls out his notebook to scribble something. I hope it’s “educate newcomers on demon subtlety” and not “teach kids to make faces.”

Waving them forward, I introduce Jesse to my team, and he greets them both with handshakes and thanks for being here. Demons have a reputation for being grumpy, but that’s not strictly true. They do tend to have short tempers and are more serious-minded than hellhounds, for example—my species’ reputation for levity is well-earned—but mostly they get a bad rap because of the whole rarely smiling thing. Jesse in particular seems to be quite laid-back.

“Are you going to keep them standing out there?” a new voice demands, and I look past Jesse to see an older woman in the doorway of the post office. The frown on her face makes me swallow hard. Other than that, though, she doesn’t look angry at all—her hands are loosely by her sides, no foot tapping. Her posture is impeccable, and she’s immaculately groomed. If I had to guess at her age, I’d say she’s approaching her millennium.

“We’re coming now,” Jesse calls patiently. He turns back to me and lowers his voice a lot. “Some of the families here are very influential.”

That’s all he says, but I get the hint. This woman, whoever she is, is a member—possibly the matriarch—of one of those influential families. We hellhounds have them too, and while some are just pretentious pain-in-the-neck blowhards, others take their position and wealth seriously and do a lot for the community. I’m not sure what kind this woman belongs to, but based on Jesse’s comment, it’s not worth upsetting her.

We stroll to the building, and the woman steps aside to let us enter what looks like… a post office. It’s unstaffed at the moment.

“Damaris, meet Dr. Garrett Smythe and his team, Dr. Annie Adarsh and Dr. Sid Lane. This is Damaris Bailey, who sits on the village council and is instrumental in the management of our settlement.”

Bailey… a relative of Gideon, the lucifer’s boyfriend? Gideon Bailey has been a high-ranking member of the lucifer’s team for decades, beginning when the former lucifer, Percy Caraway, was in charge. Now that I think of it, his scowl is remarkably similar to Damaris Bailey’s.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” I don’t offer my hand. I’ve been around long enough, and dealt with enough older members of the community, to know that she’d be offended if I did. The prerogative to shake hands is hers. “Thank you for allowing us to be here and compile our research.”

She stares at me for a long moment with her piercing dark gaze. Sweat breaks out along my spine, and I force myself to remember that she’s probably not planning to kill me and hide my body somewhere in the mountains. Behind me, I hear the familiar rustle of fabric that means Sid’s squirming.

Finally, she holds out her hand. “Thank you for coming, Dr. Smythe. Your academic history is impressive. I'm sure you’ll be adequate for this task.”

Not sure if she’s put me in my place or complimented me, I shake her hand and smile.

“The rest of the council is waiting,” Jesse says diplomatically. “Let’s go through.”

Damaris turns away, freeing me from her gaze, and it takes everything in me not to sag and fan myself in relief. I really want to shift into my hellhound form and feel the reassurance of claws and teeth. Instead, I ask Jesse how often the mail is delivered up here.

“It’s not,” he informs me. “We have a post office box in Zurich where all our mail is delivered. Our postmaster teleports there daily to collect it, then will deliver what he can. The post office is open for two afternoons a week for people to collect anything else.”

It's not the worst system I’ve ever heard of. But it would only work for demons. It also seems like a lot of work for one person—there are a thousand people living here, and even though letters are on the decline, online shopping is not. I make a mental note to interview the postmaster.

Jesse leads us through an archway into a wide hall. “Over here is the town management office. Any requests for permits or neighborly disputes are managed here. Our administrator is Bethany.” He gestures through an open doorway at a woman sitting behind a desk, talking on the phone. She glances up, sees us, and waves. Ithinkher face changed a little to show… interest?

This is going to be a steep learning curve.

“And here is the main meeting room.”

We walk through a doorway into a… meeting room. There’s a boardroom table surrounded by chairs, five of which are filled.

Damaris takes a seat near the head of the table, and Jesse introduces us to everyone before we find places to sit. “We won’t keep you long,” he promises. “I know the road is rough, and you must want to relax and refresh yourselves. We have a lovely five-bedroom house ready for you, and I’ll take you there as soon as we’re done. We’ve hired a housekeeper for you, and I know they want to discuss your requirements.”

I glance over at Annie. She’s got color back in her face and seems a lot better, so I nod. “Of course. We have some initial plans based on your existing curriculum, but we think it might be best to meet the students before we finalize anything. Children learn in different ways.”

Damaris’s expression changes somehow. Did her eyes narrow? What did I say that she disapproves of?

“Obviously your job only extends to the school-age children,” another woman whose name I can’t quite remember says. “But would it be possible to have the occasional session with the younger ones?”

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