Page 9 of Wicked Little Tricks
The fire escape groaned again, another boltstarting to come loose from the brick. The asphalt below was looking pretty damn hard.
“I estimate that metal is going to snap in about sixty seconds,” the devil’s cultured voice sounded above me. “Wouldn’t you like to take a job instead? I’ll even still pay you. You can consider me saving your life a favor.”
My hands slipped a little further. It was going to be a race to see whether I lost my grip or the fire escape pulled free first. “If you really want me to work for you,” I said through gritted teeth, “you’re not going to let me die.”
“Would you care to bet your life on it?”
I didn’t have the strength to lift my head again to look at him. I inhaled sharply. Was I willing to bet my life on it? I had only met him roughly twenty-four hours ago. I didn’t know anything about him. Maybe he just wanted any night runner who was easy to access, and I had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he would just let me die.
The metal creaked and groaned.
“Five,” he began the countdown on my life.
He was a devil. He probably did actually know when it was going to fall.
“Four.”
The breeze kicked up, swaying my body, making my fingers ache.
“Three.”
Crap. “I’ll do the job,” I panted, clingingon for dear life “but, no contract. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”
“Two,” he said pointedly.
The metal groaned again. Shit.
“One.”
“I’ll do the damn job! I agree to your contract, but only for the job. After that, we’re through.”
The metal snapped, flinging me away from the building. I expected the pain of impact, but I didn’t go crashing down. I found myself standing on my landing with my hand wrapped in the devil’s. A wash of magic hit me—a hint of evil.
He smiled the proverbial crocodile’s smile. “You begin work in the morning. Sweet dreams.“
I blinked, and he was gone, my hand still extended stupidly before me. I took a moment to catch my breath amidst the pounding of Braxton’s music.
Curse that stupid annoying music. I balled my fist and pounded on the window. After a minute Braxton’s music shut off, then the window unlocked and slid open.
Braxton looked me up and down. “What in the hells happened to you?”
I glared at him. “Braxton, you have terrible taste in music.”
Still shaking, I climbed through the window and trudged past him. I stopped halfway into the living room, sliding my fingers into my pocketand finding something that shouldn’t be there. I pulled out a playing card—the two of hearts. It thrummed with magic.
Braxton had followed me to look over my shoulder at the card. “Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”
“It’s what you think it is.”
He let out a low whistle. “I knew that devil was too hot for you to resist.”
5
Normally my blackoutcurtains blocked every hint of light, so I wasn’t expecting a glowing object on my bedside table. I sat up with a groan, rubbing my eyes, then reached for the playing card I had left there the night before.
I lifted it in front of my face. The entire surface glowed like there was a light within, the two hearts almost seeming to pulse with life. Having no idea what it meant, I slapped it back down on the bedside table, then sat up with a huff. I could only see the barest hint of light around the curtains, which meant it was just after dawn.
I slid my feet into my fuzzy slippers, then stood, stretching my arms overhead. I usually just slept in an oversized shirt and underwear. Not the most modest of me, but the shirt covered enough. I shuffled out of myroom to make some coffee, leaving the card where I had placed it.