Witch Road to Take (12 page)

I glared at her to the point that I saw
through her and before I knew what was going on, I roared, “I want
you to move your car!” All her windows shook and then immediately
shattered.

My heart pounded, my anger subsided and the
first thoughts raced through my mind.
Oh crap, what do I look
like? Did my face change? Can she tell that I’m a demon?

We both backed away from each other. Blondie
surveyed her car. “Look what you did!” she shrieked.

“What I did? I’m way over here,” I grimaced,
knowing damn well I had done that. Not on purpose of course, but
she had it coming.

Before I turned to go back to my car, I said
in a calmer voice, “Looks like justice was served.” I glanced up at
the sky. “And it looks like rain; you might want to get those
windows fixed.”

The aggravated look on her face was
priceless. The way her skin turned from a perfect yogurt white to
beet-red made me exuberant. Although the next parking spot I found
was in the back against the wall, I still had pep in my step on my
way into work.

The receptionist took me into Mr. Sable’s
office and had me wait for him to arrive. When she opened the door,
I stood halfway in the room, shocked.
Why is it that corporate
gurus always have the best views in their offices?
I
wondered.

Directly in front of me, past the office
furniture was a window to the Pacific Ocean. Although there are
many places around the world that I marvel over, this view was
breathtakingly perfect. My day was getting better.

I wanted to touch everything in his office.
A large mahogany desk with a black plush chair pushed in tightly
beneath the desk was the first thing I ran my hands over.

A phone, computer and stapler were the only
items neatly arranged on top of his desk, and my hands touched
each. I searched high and low for a picture of his wife but to my
surprise, there was none. “Interesting,” I whispered.

I stood behind his office chair and took in
the view he looked at every day—the view of the inside of his
office, staring toward the door. To his right was a wet bar and
past the two chairs in front of his desk there was an entire living
room ensemble set up for chatting with clients in a relaxed
atmosphere.

Past the couch and chairs was a coat rack
next to the door and to the left were magnificent abstract
paintings. One I recognized as work done by Willem de Kooning. His
uses of colors were inspiring and carefree.

I turned around and stared out at the vast
ocean outside his window. The sun shone down on the water from
behind a few clouds. Its rays floated on top of the water in the
same way that they would reflect during a hot summer day. The
moving dappled light, something that was so foreign to the Hell
where I had grown up, mesmerized me.

“Thank you for coming in on time,” Quinn
Sable said from behind me as he walked into his office, his voice
pulling me out of my reverie of Earth.

That odd, nervous feeling in my stomach
started up again. I couldn’t help but feel timid around this man. I
needed to adjust myself and project confidence.

I stood taller, placed my hand on my stomach
and inhaled before I turned around. “Of course.” I tilted my head
to the side in a quick nod. “Why am I here, Mr. Sable?”

He motioned for me to take a seat in front
of his desk. “You work for my lawyer and I need some help getting
my accounting books in order.”

“No offense, sir, but—”

“You can call me Quinn.”

I nodded. “Okay, Quinn. No offense, but
don’t you have an accountant that works for you?”

“Several. They have their jobs and you’re
going to have yours.” He stood. “Follow me.”

For being a twenty-three year old, which I’d
looked up on the internet at home on his LinkedIn profile, he sure
did carry himself as a much older man. But behind those brown
seductive eyes and that award-winning face and smile, I could see
he was just a scared guy, close to my age and one who didn’t want
all this responsibility.

Quinn led me into a room attached to his
office. The small room had a nice-sized window, small desk and rows
of file cabinets.

“Where’s the door to leave?” I had noticed
that the only door to that room was the door connected to Quinn’s
office.

“Need an escape route?” He grinned.

“No, but I don’t want to bother you each and
every time I have to use the restroom.” I tried to be subtle.

“Small bladder?”

I heard that smirk in his voice as he led me
back into
his
office. I followed him like a puppy with my
tail between my legs.
He is full of smart remarks today.

Quinn pressed the intercom button and a
woman’s voice purred. “Yes, Quinn, what can I get for you?”

“Cassidy, can you bring me a cup of hot tea
and a…”

“Water,” I said.

“Water for Ms. Hunt.”

“Sure, Quinn, on my way.” Cassidy’s voice
could melt ice cream on a cold day.

Within seconds, Quinn’s door opened and I
turned to greet his secretary, Cassidy. Sure enough, it was that
blonde bitch from the parking lot.

I stood up and turned to face her. She
stopped in mid-stride. Her smile and predatory demeanor changed to
a kitten trapped in the corner.

“Mr. Sable, here’s your hot tea.” Her voice
was low and less confident. I could imagine her first thought was
how important this client was who Mr. Sable had in his office.

“Thank you, Cassidy.” He grinned at her
before he introduced me. “Dhellia, this is my secretary, Cassidy—
and Cassidy this is Dhellia, the legal secretary at Law offices of
Birch, Weaver and Isenberg. She’s going to be around helping with
the books, so I’d appreciate you showing her around.”

It was at that very moment that I saw her
peon brain light up and realize that I was no one that important to
her boss. She turned and glared at me. “And water for you.” She
lifted the glass to hand it to me and then threw the water in my
face.

I inhaled and backed up, tripping over the
sofa chair and somersaulted onto the floor. My tight skirt tore in
the back and the carpet scratched up my knees. My blood began to
boil.

Quinn’s head snapped toward Cassidy,
fiercely angry—each line on his face showing that anger. “Why did
you do that?” his voice was a growling roar—a human growling roar
which was much less fierce than say…my brother’s roar.

“Mr. Sable, she broke the windows in my
brand-new car. It’s outside; you can look at it yourself.”

“How do you know she did that?” He had
walked over to help me up off the floor, but I had already managed
to get to my feet. I maneuvered my skirt down from around the upper
part of my thighs. I was mortified.

“Because she was arguing with me about the
parking spot and the next thing I knew, my windows shattered.”

I glared at that blonde bitch before I
turned around and addressed Mr. Sable. “Quinn, I didn’t touch her
car or her car windows. If you have cameras facing the south side
of the building, you can view what happened yourself.”

“Cassidy, I’m going to view the tapes and if
Ms. Hunt had nothing to do with your car windows, I’ll have no
choice but to let you go.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You can leave. I’ll call you
into my office later.” Quinn turned and addressed me. “I’m so sorry
she did that.”

He walked over to the cabinet under his wet
bar and grabbed two dry bar towels. Before I knew it, he had
brought the towel up to my face and sopped up the water on my
skin.

My heart was beating against my chest, my
clammy hands rested open on the sides of my skirt. I swallowed so
loudly, it sounded like I had just swallowed a huge piece of food
without chewing it first. His face was inches from mine, his hand
warm, and his body almost against mine.

The scent of his cologne, his breath and
even the detergent he used on his clothes made me disoriented. His
rich brown eyes encapsulated specks of green glitter and I felt
lost in them.

Against my desire, but in an attempt to have
good judgment, I pulled away and grabbed the towel. “Thanks, I can
take it from here.”

I noticed it took him a moment to regain his
composure. He ran his strong hand through his wavy brown hair and
exhaled loudly. “Let me look at that tape. Cassidy isn’t usually so
aggressive.”

I sighed louder than I intended to.

“Do you know something I don’t?” he asked,
while he opened a large cabinet with a camera system and
monitor.

I shook my head. He didn’t notice.

He pulled up the small window in the morning
when we’d had our encounter and watched with observatory patience.
Sure enough, Quinn could tell that I was going to pull into that
parking spot and she stole it, he saw me get out of the car, and I
cringed at my aggressive stance.

But when her windows shattered, I was five
feet from her car. He stopped the recording and replayed it several
times.

“That’s strange.”

“I know. I just told her that I wanted her
to move her car, and her windows shattered.”

“Not that,” he said preoccupied with the
recording.

“What?”

“Come here. Look at this.” He pointed to the
left side of the screen as the windows shattered, and then he
paused the film.

“What are you pointing at?” I asked.

“This. Do you see it?”

Sure enough, there was something off to the
corner of the screen. It looked like a small demon sucking its
thumb. It was transparent and not visual to the naked eye.

“What in the heck?”

I’m going to zoom in.

I moved in closer. “That’s a good idea.”

Quinn turned and looked at me. “What’s a
good idea?”

“You said you were going to zoom in.”

“No, I thought that, I didn’t say that.”

My eyes grew wide. “I could have sworn you
said that. Are you sure?” Inwardly, I was cursing at the new power
I had of reading minds.
How will I know if someone says
something if they’re not facing me?

My heartbeat pounded out of control for a
different reason now. Quinn zoomed in on the picture. Then my mind
twirled into a tailspin.
If the creature in the video was not of
this world, then how did Quinn see it on the camera?

“There it is. Look at that thing. What
is
that?” he mumbled.

I pulled out my cell phone and snapped a
picture of it on the screen. My volume was off so the camera didn’t
make a sound. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” I told him.

Quinn closed the cabinet doors that held the
camera equipment and called Cassidy into his office.

I rolled my eyes.
Here we go,
I
thought.

She walked in much differently this time,
but she managed to show me the same disregard and that same evil
look. “Yes, sir.”

“Ms. Hunt was nowhere near your car when the
windows shattered. But they did shatter at the same time that she
yelled at you, which I find very odd. I think this was an odd fluke
and you’ll both stay on and work for me.”

Before either of us could say anything,
Quinn sat down at his desk and said, “Cassidy, you may return to
your desk and Dhellia, here’s a list of things to start with in
your office. You both may go.” He immediately pulled out his laptop
and fired it up.

I didn’t like how he treated me when we were
around
her
. When Cassidy wasn’t in the room, he wanted to
touch my face with a towel, but when she was there, he treated me
like the hired help. Although, I was the hired help…but still.

I sulked on my way into my office and closed
the door. The rest of my day went smoothly, but Quintus and I
hadn’t said any more to each other unless it was work-related.

One thing that wouldn’t stop nagging at me
was that creature that lurked in the corner of the screen. I pulled
out my phone a hundred times to look at that picture. I had never
seen a demon like that in Father’s home, but then, I rarely paid
attention to the creatures that lurked in that horrid place. I had
to know what it was.

Gavin held my phone,
staring intently at the image in the picture I had secretly taken
in Quinn’s office. He tilted his head a couple times, pulled down
his bottle-cap glasses and then put them back on and a few times, I
saw that wicked tongue fly out of his mouth and lick above his
upper lip, causing that ugly red chapped ring.

I had pulled my red hair over one shoulder
and had twisted it into a tight, twisted clump of hair that
reminded me of a piece of licorice or better yet, a Twizzler.

Jonas sat on the other side of Gavin with
his guitar in his lap and the soft sound of harmonic chords played
as background music. It was rather soothing, although I was still a
ball of nerves. And Jonas still hadn’t said two words to me from
our earlier name calling.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Gavin
finally admitted.

“Me either. What about you, Jonas?” I asked
him, hoping to smooth over the confrontation we’d had earlier that
morning.

He sat on the couch next to Gavin and took
the phone. He only stared at it a few minutes before he moved the
phone closer to his face as if that would give him a clearer visual
of the beast. “Is that? No, it can’t be.”

“Is that a what?” I asked.

“That’s an
al
.”

“An
al
? What’s an
al
?” I
asked.

Jonas handed the phone back to Gavin. “The
al
is an ancestor to the
Tlahuelpuchi
.”

“The what?” I asked.

He pronounced it as if I were learning a new
language for the first time: “t’la-h’well-pooch.”

“Meaning?”

“For being Satan’s daughter, you don’t know
much about your brethren.”

“I didn’t pay attention to the family tree,”
I said sarcastically. “So, what is this thing?”