Jez slapped my hand away from my face and shook a finger at me. “No wonder your nails are always bitten to shit. You seriously need a manicure, lady.”
I tried to glare at her, but I was too preoccupied by trying to hear the details of the commotion in Veryl's office. “A manicure would be wasted on me. I'd destroy it within hours.”
She huffed at me and turned back to her magazine. I perched on the edge of the table, straining to hear. Yeah, so it wasn't the most polite thing to do, but it sounded big, and I wanted to know.
“So, what are you doing here?” Jez asked after flipping a few more fashion pages. “I thought you weren't taking anymore private clients.”
“I'm not. My reputation has been drawing some pretty unsavory characters lately.
Either they want to kill me or they want me to kill someone that doesn't meet my criteria.
I'm tired of playing games with vampires too pu**y to do their own dirty work.” It also put me in a very vulnerable position. I'd taken many private hits in the past, rarely second guessing my decision. “Veryl asked me to come in.”
The work I did for Veryl was for one purpose only: take out the supernaturals that threatened the rest of us with exposure. I wish I could say it was because they were evil and had to be disposed of. Truthfully, most of them were just stupid, unable to keep a low profile like those of us who value our anonymity. The work I had done on the side was merely for the money. After streams of clients seeking an easy solution to their problems or those looking to get their hands on me, I was done with it. Ever since Harley had shown up at the office when I was alone, I hadn't felt comfortable taking on a private kill.
Before either of us could speak again, a loud bang came from down the hall as Lilah flung Veryl's office door open. The intensity of her anger preceded her.
“I am tired of being manipulated like everyone else around you. Do your own goddamn dirty work from now on. Trust me; I have far greater concerns than any threat you can throw at me.” Lilah's voice echoed down the hall, and the black taint of her power reached out to stroke me like an uninvited hand. It hurt as it rolled over me.
I jumped when she suddenly appeared in the doorway. Her flame-colored eyes flashed with fury. Fixing them on me, she gave her copper locks a toss. “He's ready to speak with you, and he's in the mood to ask for favors. Consider yourself warned.”
Without waiting for me to reply, she spun on her heel and headed for the door. The sound of her combat boots on the hard tile floor seemed unnaturally loud. The woman was an enigma. Nobody fascinated me the way she did. I was dying to know more about her. I'd seen her destroy a demon with no more than a word, so I was, of course, intrigued by her.
Meeting Jez' expectant gaze, I mustered the best poker face I could possibly manage.
When she gave me the thumbs up, I headed for Veryl's office. Neutral expressions were not my forte, especially with Veryl. He’d known all along that Raoul had attacked me and slaughtered my family, and ever since I’d found that out, I had developed a distrust and wariness of him.
I'm not a complete moron. I mean, Veryl is a vampire, an old ass one at that, but I'd invested a level of trust in him that I'd learned he didn't deserve. I couldn't help but feel like a naïve fool; he'd taken advantage of my personal life, my entire existence. Veryl had arranged for Raoul to bring me into his pack, all the while planning to recruit me later and make use of the things that set me apart from other werewolves. Because I was metaphysically gifted before Raoul turned me, Veryl decided that he wanted to see for himself how it enhanced me as a Were. It scared me, especially now that I was bonded on so many levels to Arys. If Veryl thought he was ever going to have access to my power, he had another thing coming.
I'd done my best to see him as little as possible over the last six months, and surprisingly, he had seemed uncomfortable around me, too. I wasn't sure how much he really knew about me lately. If Harley was aware of how much power I now had, how could Veryl not know?
As I drew closer to his office, my heart began to beat faster. Maybe I should have called in sick. I felt like I was on my way to stand in front of the firing squad.
Pushing the door open, I took a deep breath and stepped inside. Even after avoiding his office for months, it looked just the way it always had. Gorgeous furniture filled the space around his desk, which was covered in papers and computer accessories. Veryl seemed to blend in with the surroundings. His dark gray suit looked just as expensive as anything else in the room.
He looked up at my entry, gesturing to the soft leather chair across from his desk. I didn't want to sit, but I did anyway, anything to play my part and get this little meeting over.