by L. L. Frost
“Thank you.” I take the stack from him and sit. “I’ll just skim through it first.”
“If you have the time.” His smile turns tight at the edges. “It will take a few hours to get through the whole thing.”
I give him a smile of my own and wave my hand toward the edible roses I assembled for them. “Would you like to sample the cupcakes while you wait? They’re delicious.”
His dark eyes move to the bouquet, surprised as if he hadn’t noticed it before now. While he distractedly investigates the cupcakes, I flip through the papers until my eyes catch on the words Promissory Note.
For the value received, the undersigned, Adeline Pond, hereinafter promises to pay in full, as hereinafter provided and upon the following terms and conditions.
Payment will be made on a weekly basis beginning the first week following the date signed on this contract.
Adeline Pond will transfer residence to one of K&B Financial’s choosing, where she will reside until such time as the principal sum of one hundred thousand dollars, plus interest, is paid in full.
Interest will compound every fourteen days in the amount of twenty-five percent of the principle owed.
Failure to supply payment will result in a five percent increase in interest—
What was this? Move? Why? And what was with this interest rate?
“What the…” I jerk to my feet. “There’s no way this contract is legal. I can’t pay over twelve thousand dollars a week off a bakery.” I wave the contract at them. “And what’s with this demand that I move? I can’t afford to move.”
Tobias leans a hip against the desk, focus on the cupcake in his hand. “Of course, you can’t make that much from selling these things.”
“K&B Financial doesn’t take monetary reimbursement from our demon clients,” Emil adds. An empty wrapper sits next to his elbow, a hint of purple frosting at the corner of his mouth.
Apprehension sinks sharp hooks into me. “What do you take for payment instead?”
Tobias’s eyes heat, his voice taking on the burn of volcanos. “Payment is tailored to each demon’s specialty.”
Succubus only specialize in one thing. “I’m not moving to a whore house! I’m not a prostitute!”
“We’d never ask that, and we’re not saying you are,” Tobias soothes. “If you keep reading the contract, the payment is in energy draws. If the condition I saw you in yesterday is anything to go by, it actually benefits you to sign. You’re obviously incapable of feeding yourself.”
I stiffen. “I don’t kill humans.”
Emil huffs in irritation as he glances at the other man. “This is a waste of time. We need to move on to Plan B.”
“Give it time.” Tobias waves a hand at him before his attention returns to me. “We’re not asking you to feed on humans. As the contract states, you’d move to our residence and pull energy from us. Each draw would equate to five thousand dollars.”
“Let me get this straight.” I set the contract on the seat behind me before turning back to them, arms folded my arms. “You want me to move into your house and pull energy from you every week, and in return, you give me the money to open my bakery.”
“There’s three of us.” Tobias frowns at the small cake in his hand and sets it aside, untasted. “But in very general terms, yes.”
I nod slowly. “Okay, well, in very general terms, I came here for the chance to open a bakery, not to become a whore. So, you can all fuck off.”
“You won’t get a better offer.” Emil straightens in his seat. “In fact, if you want a loan, this is the only offer you’ll receive.”
I scoff. “There are other banks.”
“Not where you’re concerned.” Tobias’s eyes bleed to black, the metallic taste of thunderstorms thick in the air. “It’s a good bargain. You should sign.”
I shiver, lips parting to drag the scent across my tongue. The meter maid left an empty place in my stomach that wants to be filled. But I don’t trust it. The contract leans too far in my favor.
My gain is clear. Where’s theirs?
I bend my knees far enough to retrieve my briefcase while keeping my focus on them. “I’m leaving.”
Frost crackles along the desk’s surface, and the color bleeds from Emil’s eyes as he watches my retreat. My pulse spikes with warnings of danger, but all he says is, “You’ll come back.”
“Not in this lifetime.” I reach the door and yank it open. “Enjoy the cupcakes, assholes.”
***
All the way home, I shake with nerves. At this point, I’m pretty sure both Emil and Tobias are high-level demons; the kind that snuff out mid-levels like myself without any effort. How did I manage to draw their attention, and how long would it take for their interest to go elsewhere? The old ones are especially well known for fixating once something catches their attention.
How did my desire to lead a quiet, semi-normal demonic life land me in this situation?
I pull up in front of my apartment complex and climb out, dragging my briefcase along. Its weight drags at my arm. I need to call other banks, try to get a meeting. But Tobias’s warning rings in my ear. Does K&B Financial have enough clout to blacklist me from all other banks? Is that even a thing?
Unfortunately, when it comes to demons, it’s a real possibility.
I push through the lobby door and stop to pick up my mail before taking the elevator to my floor. When I reach my apartment door, I punch in the code.
The lock buzzes loudly and refuses to open.
With a deep sigh, I punch in the code again.
Buzz!
Again.
Buzz!
What’s wrong with the door?
About to try again, a pink slip of paper in the stack of mail catches my attention. Heart pounding with trepidation, I slide it free, eyes catching on the bold, black print at the top.
Eviction Notice.
L.L. Frost lives in the Pacific Northwest and graduated from college with a Bachelor’s in English. She is an avid reader of all things paranormal and can frequently be caught curled up in her favorite chair with a nice cup of coffee, a blanket, and her Kindle.
When not reading or writing, she can be found trying to lure the affection of her grumpy cat, who is very good at being just out of reach for snuggle time.
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