A Wolf at the Door

by Stewart, K. A.

  I hadn’t forgotten Axel’s warning that an enemy could already be here, and the presence of such strong magic was…very convenient. It was possible that Tai didn’t know what he held. It was also possible that he was just hoping I hadn’t noticed. “Hold this a second.” I passed Tai my key chain, pressing Cameron’s danger-sensing doodad into the big man’s palm. I wasn’t sure what color it was supposed to turn if things were bad, but the little disk remained a flat black slate. We stood for long moments while nothing happened, and I finally took it back.

  “What was that about?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just something I had to see.” If Tai was demon-sworn for the other side, surely I’d have known by now. For one thing, he didn’t have the eyes of someone who had sold their soul. It’s always in the eyes. Gretchen even had the eyes, under her perfectly practiced smile, proof that part of her was missing.

  The bodyguard frowned in puzzlement. “What are you, like the James Bond of demons or something?”

  “Nah. I hate martinis.” Glancing around the suite, I saw a distinct lack of Dante-the-groupie or Miss Keene. Bobby was sprawled on the leather sofa, idly surfing the channels. “Things chill out in here?”

  “Oh, yeah. Dante bailed, and Gretchen is in her room setting up some stuff for some party thing she’s dragging us to later.” Tai closed the door behind me as I stepped inside. “You’ll have to dress, if you’re going.”

  Dress? I looked down at my snarky T-shirt and worn-but-comfy jeans. I wasn’t exactly naked at the moment. I’d leave those kinds of displays to the starlet. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”

  The big man chuckled. “She’d never be seen with you in that. If you have some black jeans and a plain black T-shirt, it should be good.”

  Well, I did, and I could easily go change, but the obstinate part of me balked at having my wardrobe dictated. “Nothing like pinning a big sign on your back saying ‘Hey, I’m a bodyguard!’”

  “The appearance of force often does more good than the application of force.” Tai shrugged his broad shoulders and had a seat on the other couch while I blinked in surprise. I liked him already. Man, I hoped he didn’t turn out to be the bad guy.

  The next hour was rather pleasant. I put Bobby through the disk test too, with the same unimpressive results, then sat and watched some TV with the bodyguards and got to know them a bit. They seemed like decent guys, really, and serious about their duties. They weren’t just arm candy for some celebrity princess.

  Tai, of course, had played college football until he blew out his knee. He’d gone on to finish his degree after his injury, and had been drafted into some light bodyguard work due to his impressive size and tattoos.

  “Most people don’t care if their guards can actually do the job, they just want the scariest-looking mother they can find.” He shrugged. “I decided, if I was gonna call myself a bodyguard, I should at least know how to do the job. Got into some training classes, some certifications, found out I had a knack for it. Bounced around a little, mostly working big events instead of any specific celebrity. Then Gretchen had that stalker thing going on, and she put the word out she was looking for some help. Hired me after the first interview.”

  “And you?” I looked at Bobby.

  “I was a marine for twelve years, did two tours in Afghanistan. When I came back, a buddy suggested this kind of work. Like Tai, I bounced around a bit before Gretchen hired me. People hire for appearance and reputation. I don’t look scary like the animal man over here.” He nudged Tai with his boot and a grimace that I was starting to understand passed for his smile. “So I had to get some cred behind me to get the good gigs.”

  The military background didn’t surprise me. It was more than his buzzed haircut. It was something in the way he stood and sat, something in his posture. I can’t really describe it, but I’m pretty good at spotting it. Ivan stood the same way, and I’d always suspected he was military at some point, too.

  “Do you like it?”

  Bobby thought for a moment before answering. “It’s not like being in combat or anything, and the money’s decent. So that’s good. But it can be pretty damn stressful at times anyway. Gretchen can be pretty demanding.”

  Inwardly, I cringed. Yeah, I’d noticed that. “She get like that a lot?”

  The two men traded looks, trying to decide how much to reveal to a total stranger. I could respect that. I imagine bodyguards didn’t stay employed long if they started blabbing secrets all around Hollywood.

  Finally, it appeared that Tai relented, but I caught a subtle nod from Bobby. Well, that settled which one of them was in charge. “Gretchen can be a bit…high maintenance. I mean, everybody knows that. But she’s not some dumb bimbo either. She’s wicked smart, and really good at what she does. She has Reggie managing her stuff, sure, but she keeps super-close track of every penny, every investment. And if she’s really into getting her own way, it’s because she knows her shit and how it all needs to be done.”

  “And she’s good to us,” Bobby added. “We always get a Christmas bonus, and she’s real good about vacation time if we want it, or sick days or stuff. I’ve had way worse jobs.”

  It occurred to me that I’d constructed some kind of preconceived notion of what I’d find in Miss Gretchen Keene. A spoiled, self-entitled princess, walking all over everyone around her and making unreasonable demands just for giggles. The imperious orders from on high earlier had kind of borne that out. But I hadn’t expected this kind of genuine loyalty from her people. I thought I had a pretty good handle on what kind of men Bobby and Tai were, and if they were willing to back her up, there had to be more there than I was seeing.

  Still, there was that whole “collecting souls” thing. Selling your own was one thing. Screwing other people over was another. Wasn’t sure I could get past that part.

  But, wasn’t my job to decide what kind of person she was. It was my job to watch her back. “So, what do you make of all…this?” Neither of them had even blinked when Gretchen called me a demon slayer, and their reaction—or lack thereof—intrigued me.

  “What, like this whole demon-slaying thing?” Bobby shrugged his shoulders. “This is Hollywood, man. Anything goes. Doesn’t surprise me that there’s people running around selling their souls.”

  Tai nodded his agreement. “Just one more crazy thing in the long line of crazy things we see every day.”

  “So you’ve seen one? A demon?”

  They exchanged looks, then shook their heads again. “Nothing like that. Just…seen stuff sometimes, y’know? Weirdness. Figure it’s all part and parcel.”

  “Have you guys noticed anything weird going on lately?”

  “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that. Weird like how?” Tai leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

  “I don’t know. Unexplained oddities? Noises, or the feeling of being watched. Or even just someone new lurking around more often than you’d expect?” Would have helped if Axel could have given me a clue what to be watching for.

  Bobby chuckled. At least, I think it was a chuckle. It was a sharp, staccato noise, reminiscent of a machine gun rattling. “We work for Gretchen Keene. We’re always being watched.” Again, they traded looks, silently talking over just how much to tell me.

  Finally, Bobby said, “We always gotta be careful, with Gretchen. Her fans…well, they’re not always the sanest bunch.”

  “Tai mentioned a stalker, earlier. That was a couple of years ago, right? What happened?”

  Tai nodded toward Bobby. “He was there, for the last of it. Happened before my time.”

  Bobby nodded a little. “Several years ago, Gretchen had a guy stalking her. To the point where he got into her house a couple different times. Killed her dog, once, left it for her.” I couldn’t help but grimace. Don’t care how bitchy you are, no one deserves that. “About the third time he got in, the cops were waiting. They shot him. He lived, of course, went to jail, but he’s due for release in the next few months.
That’s why we’re staying here instead of a private house. Figured security is better, here.”

  “But nothing recent? Nothing even weirder than usual?”

  “Nah. Just the paparazzi, like always.”

  Hm. Hadn’t factored in cameras. Probably should have. “They follow her pretty close?”

  Bobby grunted. “Gretchen’s made a kind of deal with them. She allows so much without protest, if they go away when she says. Works out well for them, and gives her a little privacy. But they’ll be at the club tonight.”

  “The only rule is, don’t lay hands on them.” Tai made a face. “No matter how up in your face they get, decking one of them is really bad. If they create too much of a problem, we just call the cops.” Geez, this was sounding better and better.

  “So, only this room and mine have people in them? Where do you guys stay?”

  Tai pointed toward the extra bedroom. “Neither of us have families or anything, so we crash there. We’re out at all bizarre hours of the night, so most of the time we take turns sleeping during the day, just in case she needs us for something. Everything else on this floor is empty, since Gretchen tossed all the freeloaders out a couple weeks ago.”

  “And good riddance,” Bobby muttered.

  So far, my suspected bad guy list consisted of a big fat lot of nothing, sad to say. But disgruntled moochers sounded like motivation. “Who were they? The people she tossed?”

  “Just…people. Hollywood people. Gretchen had a party…oh, about a month ago? Opened up the other rooms so folks could crash here if they wanted. Only some of them didn’t leave. Apparently had no intention of leaving, sponging off the room, charging up room service.” The older man made a face that indicated what he thought of such freeloaders. “Then last week, Gretchen got fed up with it and booted them all out. Didn’t break my heart any, they were making security a nightmare.”

  Tai chuckled, shaking his head. “You thought earlier was bad, you shoulda seen her then. I swear, lightning was gonna come down and smite them dead, the way she was going on.”

  “What about Dante? He’s still here.” The groupie had vanished while I was unpacking, so I still didn’t have a good feel for him yet.

  “Dante? Hell, they’ve been friends since they were in diapers, you hear them tell it. He’s kinda permanent. Good guy. Little loud. He’ll flirt with just about anything that moves, including you, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just his way. Most of the time, when she’s on the warpath, he can get her to chill out. She yelled at him for tracking mud across the carpet last week, but I think that’s the only time I’ve ever seen her mad at him.”

  The doorbell rang, and Bobby tossed the remote to Tai as he got up to answer it. I turned to watch, curious as to what kind of visitors Miss Keene got on a daily basis. What exactly did a movie star do when they weren’t being in movies?

  “Hey, Reggie. ’Sup, man?”

  Reggie was the agent, or so I’d been told, and I was real interested to see who this guy was. More importantly, I was interested to see what he was. I half expected to find out he was Axel in disguise, which would make the next few moments very interesting if it turned out to be true.

  He looked normal enough, I’ll give him that. Older than me, if I had to guess, but out here in the Botox-and-lipo belt, his exact age was impossible to determine. A nice tan, probably fake but well done. Personal trainer kinda body, not overly muscular, but no visible fat. Slacks and a polo shirt with a real polo guy on it. Highlighted, sandy hair. Not at all as stuffy and high-strung as I’d expected. I’d dealt with agents before (it hadn’t gone well), and Reggie didn’t fit in the little shoebox in my head labeled “agent.”

  Bobby stepped back to let the newcomer in, affording me a good look at the guy’s face when he passed through my newly placed ward. If I hadn’t been watching for it, I’d have missed it entirely.

  Reggie stepped over the threshold and there was a slight hesitation in his stride. Not a stumble, really, but a hiccup when he should have put his foot down. In fact he tapped the floor twice with his foot, as if feeling for the floor beneath him uncertainly. Once he had his bearings again, he glanced behind him, and when he turned back, his eyes landed on me with a thoughtful look. “And this must be Mr. Dawson.”

  “Yessir.” I stood, offering my hand, but he had to cross the floor to take it. As he reached for my hand, I kept a close eye on his other arm. Nope, no black, wriggling tattoos. If he was demon-sworn, he hid it better than anyone I’d ever seen. “And you’re Reggie.”

  “Yes.” His grip was warm and firm, and when he let go, he produced a business card for me. As I examined it, he nodded toward the door. “You come highly recommended by certain parties. I see that you more than live up to your reputation.” So he had sensed the ward. And more than that, he knew what it was, and that I’d set it. Our Reggie was turning out to be a rather interesting fellow.

  “Well, I try not to make liars out of people. I’m just glad I can help.” I might have said more—dunno what, really—but Her Highness chose that moment to make her reappearance.

  “Reggie!” A far cry from the cold orders she’d snapped earlier, Gretchen now sounded as joyful as a child, all but bounding from her sanctuary to throw her arms around the agent’s neck. And oh look, she had clothes on now. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. Julianne is being positively horrid about tonight. She wants to send a Town Car instead of a limousine!”

  The sandy-haired man chuckled and untangled himself from his enthusiastic client. “All right, princess, let’s see what I can do with Julianne, hm?” He patted her head like a fond papa.

  Gretchen gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. She likes you better than me anyway.”

  As Reggie disappeared into Gretchen’s room, she fixed her gaze on her bodyguards. “We’re going to Purgatory tonight. Black.” Almost as an afterthought, she noticed me standing there too. One elegantly sculpted brow rose in disdain as she looked me up and down. “I suppose you’re going too.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  She sniffed, the wrinkle to her nose letting me know exactly what she thought I was there for. “Dress in all black, if you can find something that isn’t too disgusting.” With a whirl, she vanished into her tiny little kingdom again.

  Tai snorted a laugh. “Hell, she likes you.”

  I raised a brow at him. “How can you tell?”

  “She’s letting you come, for one thing,” Bobby chimed in. “And she didn’t order you to wear a suit she knows damn well you don’t have.”

  “I could have a suit.” I didn’t, but I also didn’t think anyone had had a chance to rifle through my luggage. Yet.

  “You might, but not up to her standards, I promise. If she really wanted to make trouble for you, she’d have asked for the impossible.”

  Tai nodded his agreement, grinning. His tattoos gave it a slightly manic appearance. “See? Told you she liked you.”

  8

  Now, I wouldn’t say I’m movie-star-level handsome, but I haven’t been kicked out of bed for eating crackers. Yet. I mean, I do clean up okay. A quick shower and shave, and I’m almost presentable in civilized company.

  But next to Tai and Bobby, I felt like that little cartoon Chihuahua, bouncing along at the feet of the much bigger dogs.

  Decked out in their evening attire—black slacks, black Tshirts, black tailored jackets—both men managed to look suave and businesslike all at the same time. Tai had confined his hair into a short ponytail, not unlike mine, and if you could ignore the facial tattoos, he could have been heading to any boardroom meeting. And with Bobby’s stiff military-trained posture, I couldn’t see how he could look anything but professional.

  And then you had me. A pair of black jeans, never worn, a plain black T-shirt and a pair of ratty combat boots. Not to mention that both bodyguards looked like they could bench-press me without breaking a sweat. One of these things is not like the other…I felt scrawny, extremely conspicuous, and wit
hout some pithy slogan emblazoned across my chest, I felt practically naked.

  Gretchen emerged from her bedroom as I was checking the wards on her doors one more time, and gave me the old up-and-down. “You’ll do, I guess.”

  Well well, I had the queen’s approval. La-de-freakin’-da.

  Her Highness was mind-bogglingly gorgeous, of course. It was a nice little bit of nothing she was almost wearing, her silver dress baring more skin than it covered. The height of her spiked heels almost put her eye-to-eye with me, and I had to marvel that she didn’t break an ankle in those things. I also made a mental note that if anything nasty went down, there was no way Gretchen would be running away from it. Not in those shoes. Mira doesn’t wear stuff like that. She’s more practical.

  “The limo’s waiting downstairs.” Bobby held the door for all of us, and we were off.

  Whoever named the place Purgatory should have just gone all out and named it Hell. At least, it was pretty close to my idea of it.

  First off, I had no freakin’ clue where I was. Turns out riding in the back of a limousine is fairly disorienting, especially when in a strange city to begin with. No one else seemed perturbed by it, but I kept peering out the tinted windows to try and get a look at my surroundings. I knew we were close only when there was a sudden increase in bright lights and honking horns.

  The limo drove around the block three times for no reason I could see other than making sure as many people as possible were watching when we got out. Bobby and Tai exited first, clearing an opening in the rabid throng by means of their sheer size, and Gretchen slid out behind them, leaving me to cover the rear. Watch her tail? Follow behind? Wow…none of these things sound innocent. I walked last. There we go.

  And oh dear lord, these people were crazy. There were camera flashes from every direction, screaming women (and some men), a hundred hands reaching out and grabbing at anything and everything they could. Any one of those hands could have held a knife, or a gun, or anything really, and there wasn’t a thing any of us could have done about it.