Page 7 of The Devil in the Details

“Sounds tedious.”

He was impossible.

“Malgraxon, life is tedious. This conversation certainly is.” Maybe a little vinegar would make him go away.

No such luck. He flashed a dazzling smile, her sour response only seemed to delight him. If he had a tail, it would be wagging. Actually, he might have a tail. He was a shapeshifter.

“Mal, please,” he said. “I will speak to your boss. It is not a problem.”

He tossed a credit coin onto the counter and headed toward a doorway with a beaded curtain. “Purchase the necklace. I want to see you wearing it when I return.”

“Geneva’s not back there.”

“I hear a second heartbeat. Either it is the shop’s owner, or you have an intruder. Either way, you will thank me.”

She turned to watch him go by, not to check out his butt. Other reasons. She couldn’t think of one, but definitely other reasons.

Mal looked over his shoulder and gave her a wink before disappearing through the beaded curtain.

Zelda slumped against the counter. She needed Mal’s help. That hadn’t changed. She wished he were more discreet. Deals with the Daimoni were illegal for good reason. The Daimoni were unpredictable. Tricksters. They’d deliver a contract to the letter yet manage to screw you over and do it with a smile on their faces. They couldn’t be trusted, and Mal was in the back doing who knew what to Geneva. Mind control? Spinning lies? Making another bargain?

Geneva was savvy. She wouldn’t be charmed by a pretty face. She’d see through Mal’s facade to the Daimoni demon he was. As long as she didn’t have proof, as long as he didn’t reveal himself, Geneva could be as suspicious as she liked. The older woman was suspicious of most people.

The thought calmed her. Geneva’s natural disposition leaned more to mistrust than trust. She’d toss Mal and his handsome face out on his nice butt.

Whistling, she rang up the necklace, adding the inconvenience fee they used for annoying customers, and gave herself a generous tip. Very generous. The necklace was all bagged up when Geneva emerged, dragging Mal by the wrist.

“Zelda! You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday,” Geneva said in an aggravated tone.

“Because it’s not—” she started to say.

“Not important,” Mal cut in, speaking over her. “I told you she would say that, Miss Geneva.”

Geneva folded her arms over her chest and made a disapproving noise. Through thick glasses that magnified her dark eyes, she glared at Zelda. It was terrifying.

“Take the afternoon off,” Geneva said, frowning.

Correction:nowshe was terrifying. This had to be a trap. Geneva wasn’t a tenderhearted person. She ran a shady-at-best pawn shop in a shady neighborhood. It’d be nice to think that she’d hired Zelda because she didn’t give a fuck what other people thought, but Zelda knew it was because Geneva saw the chance to grab a highly qualified expert for practically nothing. Zelda was a bargain, and Geneva was shrewd. Giving afternoons off didn’t figure into that.

What had Malgraxon done?

Then came the thought that chilled her. Did Geneva know the truth about Malgraxon?

“You’ve got those boxes from the estate sale to sort through,” Zelda said, watching Geneva’s reaction for a clue.

Her frown intensified. “Let your nice fella spoil you on your birthday.”

Nice fella? Oh, Geneva knew. She absolutely knew.

“I’m not sure what he told you, but it’s not true,” Zelda said.

Geneva snagged her arm and dug her bony fingers in. She spoke quietly, “Mal told me enough. I’m just glad you’ve met someone. The way your last man treated you was a disgrace.”

Zelda blinked. She hadn’t shared all the mortifying details with her boss, so Malgraxon must have spilled the beans. “Yeah, Walker was a real piece of work.”

“Go enjoy your day. The boxes from the estate sale will be waiting for you,” Geneva said.

“Thanks,” Zelda said, still suspicious, but she grabbed her bag and left before Geneva could change her mind.

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