headed back to the Guild.
All in all I'd done spectacularly well, I decided. I lost the client for at least two minutes, let him get his stomach ripped open, watched him stab his attacker in the eye, which was definitely something he shouldn't have had to do, and cost him his special acorn and roughly five months of work. The fact that my client turned out to be a scumbag and a sexual deviant really had no bearing on the matter.
Some bodyguard I made. Yay. Whoopee.
I grabbed my crap and headed for the doors.
'Kate,' the clerk called from the counter.
I turned. Nobody remembered the clerk's name. He was just 'the clerk.'
He waved an envelope at me. 'Money.'
I turned on my foot. 'Money?'
'For the job. Client called. He says he'd like to work exclusively with you from now on. What did the two of you do all night?'
'We argued philosophy.' I swiped the envelope and counted the bills. Three grand. What do you know?
I stepped out the doors into an overcast morning. I had been awake for over thirty six hours. I just wanted to find a quiet spot, curl up, and shut the world out.
A tall lean man strode to me, tossing waist long black hair out of the way. He walked like a dancer and his face would stop traffic. I looked into his blue eyes and saw a familiar smugness in their depths. 'Hello, Saiman.'
'How did you know?'
I shrugged and headed on my way.
'Perhaps we can work out a deal,' he said, matching my steps. 'I have no intentions of losing that bet. I will find a form you can't resist.'
'Good luck.'
'I'm guessing you'll try to avoid me, which would make my victory a bit difficult.'
'Bingo.'
'That's why I decided to give you an incentive you can't refuse. I'm giving you a sixty percent discount on my services. It's an unbelievable deal.'
I laughed. If he thought I'd pay him twenty-six dollars a minute for his time, he was out of luck.
'Laugh now.' Saiman smiled. 'But sooner or later you'll require my expertise.'
He stopped. I kept on walking, into the dreary sunrise. I had three thousand dollars and some chocolate to buy.
About the Author
Ilona Andrews is the pseudonym for a husband-and-wife writing team. “Ilona is a native-born Russian and Gordon is a former communications sergeant in the U.S. Army. Contrary to popular belief, Gordon was never an intelligence officer with a license to kill, and Ilona was never the mysterious Russian spy who seduced him. They met in college, in English Composition 101, where Ilona got a better grade. (Gordon is still sore about that.)
Gordon and Ilona currently reside in Texas with their two children, three dogs and a cat. They have co-authored two series, the bestselling urban fantasy of
