Will

  After having to spend an obnoxious amount of time searching, Will finally tracked Nyx down to a large grain warehouse in Seaside. The main transport gates were locked with a heavy chain, but he quickly found an unlocked side entrance.

  He spotted the demoness immediately upon entering the open floor space, her back turned to him. She was overseeing two burly Builders who were beating some poor Trader up against a sprawling stack of crates, the victim whimpering and begging incoherently.

  "Hello, William," Nyx said without turning. Today, her outfit consisted of a trio of strategically placed fig leaves, the rest of her lithe, ashen-skinned body on full display.

  "Peace!" the Trader cried, holding out his hands, but nothing happened. Too emotionally compromised to cast skills. Pathetic. The man's attempt at saving himself had the opposite effect, the two Builders lighting into him harder with annoyance at his presumption.

  Will sighed as he approached the demoness's side. "You were expecting me." Not wanting the others in the room to overhear the conversation—whoever they were—he cranked his Light Touch passive and placed one finger against Nyx's upper arm to include her in the effect.

  "Yes," Nyx said, giving a self-satisfied smirk at Will's touch but making no effort to avoid it. "In truth, I'd expected you sooner. I'm a little offended that I wasn't your first stop upon returning to the city."

  "I have better things to do than keep you company. That's what you have Mongrel for, isn't it?"

  Nyx glanced over at Will, her eyes aglow with an inner fire. "Very true. And how is Matthew? Healthy, I trust?"

  "Last I saw him, sure."

  "He didn't come back with you, I take it."

  "No. He and Sam are going north to track down your old friend Buck."

  "Ah. Yes, I suppose you could do worse than him for the high chair, though he is dreadfully boring."

  "Are we talking about the same man?"

  "Being flamboyant does not inherently make one interesting, William."

  "Fair enough." Will nodded toward the merchant receiving a generous beating and his two very enthusiastic tormentors. "What am I looking at, exactly?" he asked.

  "Just a minor business dispute," Nyx said, giving a small wave of her fingers as though to dismiss the matter entirely. "Nothing you need to worry about, dear. Now, why don't you tell mommy Nyx what's the matter? Let me know what you need, and I'll certainly see what I can do."

  Will's lip twisted in a disgusted grimace, and it was only with some effort that he kept from yanking his finger back from the demon's too-hot skin. "What makes you think I want anything from you?"

  Nyx laughed and gave the back of Will's hand a soft pat. "I have no illusions about our relationship, William. I'm well aware that you would never seek me out just for the sparkling conversation."

  "Well, you're not wrong."

  "I have Samantha's champion purse in secure storage, if that's what you're concerned about. And your cut of Matthew's winnings, as well."

  "Good."

  "If you come by my office tomorrow, I can have it ready for you."

  "That's all right—keep it for the time being." Will paused, watching the two toughs ply their trade with mild disinterest. "Also, what do you mean by 'office'? Where is that supposed to be, exactly?"

  Nyx looked around her at the interior of the large, open building, her insufferable smirk widening. "Why, right here, of course. As soon as that good gentleman over there finishes signing a few silly little papers, that is."

  "Right." The Trader was looking pleadingly in Will's direction, one eye nearly swollen shut and a trail of bloody drool extending from his bottom lip. Will, not particularly in the mood for heroics, ignored him. "Well, you're right. I do need something."

  "Do tell," Nyx purred, cat eyes narrowing in smug satisfaction.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Will sighed. "Apparently, there's a slave named Bill who works in the pits. A sanitation worker, or something like that. I would like you to buy his freedom. Apparently, Sam promised to set him free."

  "That should not prove any issue."

  "You can put some of the money you've set aside for me toward this. Just be sure not to overpay."

  "Oh, I never do, dear. Anything else?"

  "Pleeease!" the Trader wailed, shaking hands raised in pitiful defense. "I'll sell! I'll sign whatever you want! Just leave me be!"

  One of the Builders paused with his fist halfway to the man's gut, holding him up by the back of his collar with his other hand. The second Builder turned back toward Nyx, brows raised in a silent question.

  Nyx motioned for them to continue with an impatient wave of her fingers.

  "It sounds like he's had enough," Will noted.

  "He needs to be taught the consequences of denying one of my kind," Nyx replied without a shred of emotion in her voice.

  "He's had enough," Will repeated, more firmly this time. "You're just playing with your food at this point."

  The demoness shrugged and gave a small sigh, arms folded beneath her (almost) bare chest. "Oh, very well. Boys, take this one upstairs and have him sign the paperwork. After that, wait for me."

  The two Builders each gave a shallow bow, then took one arm each as they dragged the half-limp Trader across the warehouse, then up some stairs, the toes of his boots making a rhythmic thump, thump, thump as they hit off every stept.

  Once they were no longer in earshot of anyone, Will was quick to remove his one finger from Nyx's arm, feeling like he needed a bath even though he had barely touched her.

  "What is it you're trying to do here, exactly?" Will asked, not entirely sure that he really wanted to know.

  Nyx paced about the warehouse with the slow, graceful steps of a stalking panther, her bare feet never upsetting the thick layer of grain dust covering the floor. "Just some minor business dealings to keep me occupied until Matthew returns," she said. "I have a tendency to get bored—it's a flaw of mine. I keep busy to combat this." She spun to face Will and plopped down on top of a wooden crate, her legs thankfully crossed. "But you're not here to talk about me, and I sense that you have something else on your mind."

  "Yes," Will said, crossing his arms as he regarded the demoness from the other end of the room, glad to have a little distance between them. "There's also a woman I need to find. Her name is Serene, I believe. A friend of Sam's."

  Nyx nodded sagely. "I know of her, yes."

  "Good. I'm supposed to check up on her and let her know that Sam is doing all right, but I'm not sure she can be trusted with that kind of information. Sam is dead as far as the public is concerned, and I would like to keep it that way for the time being."

  "I have a vested interest in the girl. If it's all the same to you, I'll tend to her myself. One less thing for you to worry about, busy man that you are."

  Will nodded. The fact that she was the one to suggest it made his hackles instantly rise, but in truth he was happy to dump the responsibility on her. Sam evidently had a bad habit of picking up liabilities, and he was not in any mood to figure out how to deal with them at the moment. He had enough on his mind.

  "Anything else I can do for you?" Nyx asked.

  "Do you know if Buck has any allies in the city? Folk who are likely to stand behind him if he makes a bid for the high chair? I imagine he might still have some friends in the pit fighting scene."

  "He does indeed. Hasan was very enamored with him."

  "I'm not on a first-name basis with every sleazeball in the city. Who's Hasan, exactly?"

  "They call him Golden Boy these days."

  "Right. Yes, he might prove useful."

  "Would you like me to reach out to him for you?"

  "Please do."

  Nyx gave a self-satisfied grin. "Your wish is my command."

  "That's all, then," Will said, and turned to leave. "Stay out of trouble, demon."

  "Oh, don't worry on my account, dear," Nyx said with a sparkling laugh that echoed through the high-ceilinged warehouse. "I wouldn't do anything Matthew would disapprove of."

  "Good." Not that that constrained her rules of engagement very much.

  Will was at the door when he had a thought, pausing as he reached for the handle. "Demons are shapeshifters, aren't they?" he asked, turning back toward Nyx.

  "Of a sort," she replied, still sitting on her crate with her chin resting in her hand, a bemused smile playing on black lips. "Why?"

  "If I showed you a person, could you copy his appearance?"

  "Ah. I'm afraid not. The First Contract forbids us from impersonating humans. So unless you want me to assume the identity of another Fallen One, I can't help you."

  "I see. That's a shame."

  When he tried to leave a second time, it was Nyx who called out. "How would you like to make a deal, you and I?" she asked. "Off the books, no contract involved. Just an agreement between two gentlebeings."

  Will cocked an eyebrow at that. "What kind of deal?"

  "To help each other out." She hopped off the large box and came swaggering across the room, a dangerous glow in her fiery eyes. "After all, we both know what it's like to work tirelessly on someone else's behalf. And we both know how difficult it can be to nudge them along the right path." She stopped in front of him and extended one clawed hand, the other resting on her naked hip. "So why not join forces? I'll help you with Samantha in whatever capacity I can, and you do the same for me and Matthew. I believe the human term is 'wingman'. Deal?"

  Will gazed long at her offered hand. "Off the books?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "You don't invoke the First Contract?"

  "No."

  "All right, then."

  He shook her hand.