Мишель Роуэн - Angel with Attitude

“The Underworld that looks like Miami Beach.”

He nodded. “Part of the mayor’s punishment was an inability to perform personal glamour.”

“So that means that he can make everything look good except himself?”

“Precisely.”

“He must hate that.”

Nathaniel smiled and shook his head. “Have you ever heard the story of the emperor’s new clothes?”

“Wasn’t that a Disney movie?”

“That was The Emperor’s New Groove,” Reggie piped up. “I have it on DVD. David Spade’s my hero.”

Nathaniel gave Reggie a withering look. “In ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes,’ the ruler is naked but his underlings have convinced him he wears beautiful clothes. He is unaware of his own humiliation until someone points it out to him.” He paused. “The mayor has convinced himself, and no one has argued with him, that he is very desirable and attractive.”

“You’re kidding.”

“So, it would be best if you say nothing that may belie that delusion. Understand?”

Val took another look at Jabba and grimaced. “What if it just slips? What if he says ‘Don’t I look good today?’ and I say, ‘For a slug you look good.’ What then?”

“Then,” Nathaniel looked away, “you would count yourself lucky if you only lost your tongue.”

“Nathaniel!” The mayor finally noted their presence, and waved his flipper-like appendage.

“Come here, my boy.”

Nathaniel slipped an arm around Val’s waist, which took her by surprise and steered her toward the mayor.

The mayor extended a flipper and Nathaniel dropped to one knee and kissed it. “I’m so pleased you could make it to my party. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“The pleasure is mine, great one.” Nathaniel rose to his feet. “I wanted to come by and tell you personally that I have been giving your generous offer of employment much serious thought.”

“And? Will you join me?”

The way the mayor was eyeing Nathaniel made Val think he left off the “in the hot tub,” part of the proposition.

“Like I said, I have been giving the matter much thought.”

“That is not an answer. Things are brewing, my demon friend, a great opportunity has only today presented itself, and I would relish the chance to have you on my team.”

“What opportunity is that?”

The mayor raised a lump of flesh on his forehead, which could have been his eyebrow.

“That’s privileged information. But join me, and you will be one of the privileged few.” His gaze tracked along Nathaniel’s form and came to rest on Val.

“This is . . . Claire,” Nathaniel said. “She is with me.”

“I see.” His lump of eyebrow traveled higher. “Do I smell human? A human in the

Underworld? Nathaniel, I’m shocked at your audacity.”

“She may be human, but she’s striving to be so much more than that. She is a practitioner of black magic.”

The mayor nodded. “Ah, a witch. Very nice. Very nice, indeed. Welcome, my dear.”

Val wondered how an evil witch might answer him. “Thanks a bunch.”

“I enjoy magic very much, myself,” the mayor continued. “Would you do a demonstration for me?”

A demonstration? Val’s eyes widened. Of magic?

She swallowed hard. “Do you have a deck of playing cards handy?”

Nathaniel laughed. “Claire, don’t tease. Great one, forgive her, please. Her magic is so dark, so malicious in its nature, that none of what she does can be demonstrated here since there is that Belligerent Magic Decree you so wisely put forth.”

“Yes, yes, of course, you are right.” The mayor eyed Val and she tried to eye him right back.

Evil witches didn’t get intimidated by Underworld bosses. If there was a handbook for evil witches, that would be on page one.

Fallen angels, on the other hand, were intimidated very easily. And often. At least this fallen angel was, she thought.

The mayor nodded at her. “Your familiar is very well-behaved. An interesting choice, I must say. It must ensure that all but the bravest demons will stay away from your business.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your familiar.” He waved a flipper at her.

Val looked at Nathaniel.

“Squeak,” Reggie offered.

“Oh, right. My familiar. Yeah, he’s . . . quite well-trained, actually. Not housebroken, though, but what can you do?”

“Squeak?”

“Well, you’re not.”

The shirtless waiter delivered a drink to the mayor who was unable to pick it up, so he stood there while the mayor sipped it from the tray with a long, bendy straw. When he’d sucked the last of whatever the oddly puce-colored liquid was, the waiter wandered back toward the topless women.

“This party will be quite the event,” the mayor said. “It was originally simply one of my regular bashes, but now I’m celebrating.”

“What’s the occasion?”

The slug shrugged. “It has to do with the privileged information I spoke of before. But a word from you could change all that. I would love to have you in my folds. Err . . . I mean, have you in the fold.”

“I would enjoy”—Nathaniel seemed to shudder ever so slightly—“discussing it further with you.”

The mayor eyed Val again. “In private.”

She took a step back. “Yeah, you guys talk. I’ll just go snag a drink and leave you two at it.”

Nathaniel held eye contact with her for a moment before he went to grab a nearby lounge chair, pulling it up alongside the mayor’s chaise.

Not that she was one to judge, but it was quite obvious that the mayor preferred handsome demons to sexy evil witches.

Can’t say she blamed him. It. Whatever.

Val backed away until she was out of earshot. She was putting a lot of faith into the fact that

Nathaniel wouldn’t give her away. She felt fairly assured he wouldn’t, what with the whole

“command” thing, but either way it was a risk she had to take. If it meant finding Julian and getting the key, then it was worth it. Then straight back home to Barlow. She’d been gone long enough already.

“So what do you think about that, Reggie?” she whispered. “So strange. I so want out of this crazy place.”

“Squeak.”

“That’s cute, but you can talk now. At least for a moment. I guess familiars don’t usually talk.

You’re doing a good job. Have you been practicing? Sounds like a very realistic squeak.”

“Squeak, squeak.”

She frowned. “A sound which is now getting on my nerves. Would you just knock it—”

Reggie bit her.

“Ow!” She pressed a hand to her neck and stepped back . . .

Into something firm.

She turned around slowly.

“Well, well,” Julian stood there looking at her, from stiletto heels to rat. “Aren’t we a pretty one?”

Val opened her mouth but found that she’d lost her voice—perhaps forever this time.

“Please, allow me.” He reached forward and took her hand in his, pulling it away from the little wound Reggie had made while he’d tried to warn her that frigging Julian himself was standing behind them, wearing an expensive-looking dark blue suit with a white, partially unbuttoned shirt. Looking very nice and appearing to not be afraid of Reggie at all. No, he seemed very calm, cool, and collected. For a demon with low self-esteem and a hidden rat phobia, that is.

Julian looked at her neck, and then touched the wound with his index finger. She felt a familiar tingle . . . the same feeling she got when Nathaniel healed her broken ankle in the alleyway. He smiled at her. “All better.”

Val forced herself to not try to pull away from him in disgust and fear. He didn’t know who she was. She looked completely different from when he’d last seen her at the Paradise Inn after he’d vanquished Alexa and stolen the key. However, he looked exactly the same. Tall, ice blond, high cheekbones, and his arrogant “Aren’t I hot?” mask was firmly in place.