Nicodemus Marsh sat on the white leather couch in his apartment, cell phone to his ear, listening to his most recent employer drone on about his assignment. This SOB thinks I don’t know how to handle a sweet human female? Who the hell does he think he’s dealing with? A fucking Jenai?

“Look, I’ll be able to deal with her. Nobody fucks with me; succubae have given in to me. What makes you think little Miss Janey Duvall is any different?”

“Because she’s a pain in the ass. I need this done, Marsh, and I need it done properly.”

“And that’s why you came to me,” Marsh muttered. “So, what exactly is the fucking job?”

“I need you to...take her into your care. I need her pliable, easily worked. I need her not only willing to do as I ask but to be happy doing it.”

Marsh laughed. He knew the demon needed him for a reason. “You need her broken.” “I’m sure it won’t be too difficult for a man of your talents.”

Marsh rolled his eyes again. “Indeed. Anything in particular she needs to do while I’m there? I’m sure I’m not being sent in to break her because she mouthed off. What’s the job?” Marsh got off the couch and grabbed a smoke.

“She’s recently taken full control of Duvall Senior’s organization. She controls all the fun things written in blood, if you get my meaning. I don’t know if you’ve heard about my recent trouble in China, but it’s proving difficult to move assassins there in a hurry. Ms. Duvall has a monopoly, and the best people report to her. I only work with the best. I need them there now, I’m far too pretty to stand in front of a firing squad, and it would ruin a perfectly good shirt. Plus, the fact that the bullets won’t kill me might raise a few eyebrows.”

The Demon walking away from a firing squad would be one thing that would turn a few cranks. Not that it mattered to Marsh; Djinn and Demons might share a slight common ancestry, but there was no love lost between the races. It didn’t matter who the demon was. Marsh was Marsh, and reverence be damned. He worked for the money, not for love or responsibility, and this job would set him up for quite a while.

“That’s all well and good, Taylor,” he said to the Demon, and rubbed his forehead. “Just tell me what I have to make sure she does for you, I’m losing patience here.”

The Demon prince Cassiel, who went by Sean Taylor topside, was ruthless and normally quite efficient. Marsh wasn’t sure which house he belonged to in the Afterverse, all he knew was that the Demon was well respected and brutal. That Marsh had been called personally by Taylor spoke volumes to his abilities. Still, while whatever mess he’d gotten himself into was intriguing; it really wasn’t Marsh’s business. The chit, she was to be his only business.

“Like I said, I need you to make sure she supplies me with enough assassins to kill my...witnesses. I have my own lawyer, but even he can’t get me out of this if there are people willing to speak up. Honest, bribe-refusing people look great on a witness stand. I refuse to burn a perfectly good identity and business because of a few stubborn humans.”

Marsh scoffed. “Yeah. Simple. Where the hell is she?”

“Rome. Her offices shouldn’t be too hard to find.” He gave Marsh a rough description o f the buildings located just outside Vatican City.

“Well, call the little chit and tell her she’s getting company. And Taylor, I have carte blanche to deal with her as I see fit, right?” he asked slyly, knowing that Demon would agree. As a Djinn, Marsh had certain needs that had to be met and, if he played his cards right, Janey might bargain...and he’d have a new harem girl.

Oh yeah, she’ll agree. She’ll take her three wishes, and then she’ll be mine. The thought was heady. It didn’t matter if she was pretty of not; there were certain things all women asked for, beauty being one of them. He never begrudged them their vanity; after all, he would be the one reaping the benefits in the long run, and that was the trick wasn’t it? To use his power for his own ends, and get them to make themselves perfect, just for him.

“You may do anything you wish with her; as long as I get those assassins and a much more compliant little Janey.”

“You’ll get it, Demon. A bargain is a bargain.”

“Perfect, so I trust you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“As always, Taylor. You’ll hear from me soon enough.”

Marsh hung up, stubbed his cigarette out, and looked around his apartment. The place was clean, sterile, as if no one lived there. That was as close to the truth as he could get. He didn’t actually live there; he just kind of stopped there between jobs and wanderings.

Janey Duvall, huh? He thought with a smirk as he flipped his cell open again. Sweetheart, you don’t have one clue what you’re in for.

“Yes, I’d like to book a first class seat on your next flight out to Rome.”

* * * *

Janey sat back in her leather chair and stifled a yawn. The Demon was ranting again, and Janey thought he was very un-sexy when he did that. Cassiel was well known for his rages. Even before she took over Duvall, Inc., she and Taylor would get into it over jobs. The son of a bitch thought his station in the demon world held clout in the human realm. Well, not with her. He was too used to getting his way, and Janey took a perverse satisfaction in telling arrogant men no. Taylor, as he was called by pretty much everyone with whom he dealt, was a dangerous man to piss off; however, his latest trouble was beyond belief. Trafficking in human organs was always a touchy situation, especially when children, and orphans at that, were involved.

Disagreeing with the Demon’s views, she denied him the power he needed to make it all go away. Partly because it was bad for business to have so many of her assassins in one place, but mostly because she didn’t like the Demon. She imagined his face turning beet red and steam coming out of his ears every time she said no. The thought always put a smile on her face.

The warm leather of her short skirt inched up her thigh as she crossed her legs, creating a sensuous feeling. She sighed; it had been years since a man had been that close to her, and not by her choice, either. For some reason men turned tail and ran at the mention of her name. Well, all the clever ones ran. She’d never been one for sleeping with the stupid ones.

Janey Duvall’s parents had died when she was very young, her guardianship passing over to the one and only Trent Duvall. Trent was the toughest, meanest bastard around, and he’d built the organization, which she now ran, from scratch. Sheer force of will and determination put them on top, and although Trent and the crew had recently parted ways, she knew he’d be back. He’d have to be. She wasn’t going to be able to take care of things here much longer.

She was going to die—terminal cancer. So far, a few witch spells kept the disease at bay, but it wouldn’t be long before she lost the battle. The tumors had spread rapidly through her body, piggybacking through her bloodstream to find new locations to nestle and grow. Her body was killing her, and with all the money in the world there was nothing she could do about it.

Dying wasn’t a prospect that thrilled her, but at least she’d made her peace and would go with her soul intact. No demons would get their hooks into her. It would have been so easy for her to make a deal, bargain herself away to one of them. Even Cassiel would gladly do it, and at first things would be great. Until the full impact of life indebted to him sank in. There was always a price, and she did not intend to pay whatever they asked. She’d die fully human and her own woman, not that it was much comfort. She’d still be dead.

“Are you even listening to me?” The Demon’s smooth, cultured voice startled her back to the phone conversation.

“Of course, I heard every acid-edged threat, darling. But I’m afraid that it just won’t do, Taylor. It’s impossible to have that many of my people in China by that date. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” She grinned not attempting to hide her glee at his predicament.

The one good thing about knowing that she was going to die was that she could afford to piss off the Demon. While she was sure that Cassiel would come up with some very creative retaliation, it hardly mattered. In fact, she was looking forward to it.

She heard him sigh and could almost feel his exasperation on the other end of the line. “Janey, love, you’re failing to see the seriousness of all this.”

“Oh, I see it, all right. To be honest, I just don’t care enough to try to bail you out. You’ve never done me any favors, Demon, and you don’t intend to. You think that you can call me—on my direct line, might I add—and you offer no deal, just expect your name and position will sway me. Frankly, I’m disappointed. Your skills in manipulation are somewhat lacking.”

“Would you like me to manipulate you, little girl?” he asked, his tone deathly cold.

She looked at her nails, scraping a little piece of dirt out from under one of them before replying. “Oh, it’d be nice.” She smiled. “But, from what I’ve heard, you’re somewhat housebroken recently. How’s that exile going? Still crazy?”

The Prince growled. “I will have those assassins, Janey,” he said with all the petulance of a child denied dessert.

She sighed. “Well, I wish you all the best in that, Taylor,” she answered caustically.

He chuckled suddenly, causing her to sit up and frown. “Yes, love, maybe you should wish. I will have those people, and I have offered you the easy way out. Now, unfortunately for you, I’m going to devote at least a full quarter of my time to making your life a living hell. There’s no need to kill you so quickly, not when there’s so many years of suffering…”

She hung up the phone on him and switched off the ringer. “Stupid Demon. I’m half way there anyway.” She chuckled, picturing the scene and the cursing that the nine-hundred-year-old Demon would be doing right at this very moment. She rolled her eyes and pulled some papers out of a file.

“Might as well get started on the next lot of contracts. They don’t sort themselves out,” she muttered into the empty office as she began to read.