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Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [6]

By Root 713 0
side of my mouth curl into a rueful smile. ‘‘I don’t see how they can. They didn’t get a good look at me, and they think it was Mei Ling, infamous international cat burglar, and not a simple doppelganger from California.’’

She grimaced. ‘‘Me and my big mouth.’’

‘‘Oh, it’s not that bad—it means less attention on me if everyone is looking for an Asian woman. Ugh. I can’t go into the hotel like this. I’ll shadow walk to my room. Will you be OK?’’

She’d had a century to practice the long-suffering look she bestowed upon me, but my lips twitched at it nonetheless. ‘‘I’m not inept, May! I am perfectly capable of entering a hotel and making my way to my room without encountering any assassins, thugs, anarchists, or muggers, thank you.’’

‘‘Sorry,’’ I said, contritely.

‘‘Honestly! You treat me like I’m the child and you’re the parent, when it’s the other way round. I’m almost twelve hundred years old, you know! Just because I need a little help now and again doesn’t mean I can’t do anything without you. . . .’’

She marched off to the elevator with an indignant twitch of her shoulders. I followed more slowly, avoiding the overhead lights and taking the less-used stairs as a question danced elusively in my mind.

How on earth was I going to get the quintessence back to the mage without being caught?

Chapter Two

‘‘Good morning. Is Magoth in?’’

‘‘Yes.’’ The female demon looked up from its laptop, using a wicked-looking stiletto to poke a strand of errant blond hair back into an otherwise tidy French twist, all the while eyeing me with obvious disdain. ‘‘You’re not a demon.’’

‘‘Er . . . no, I’m not. I’m a doppelganger. I don’t believe we’ve met—I’m May Northcott.’’

‘‘Sobe,’’ the demon answered, its mouth set in a prim line. ‘‘I’ve never seen a doppelganger. You are a dark being?’’

‘‘Not really, no. I’m a twin, the shadow image of a normal person. Well, not a mortal—she’s a naiad.’’

‘‘A twin?’’ Sobe’s expression turned even more sour. ‘‘How does this happen?’’

‘‘Oh, you know, the usual way,’’ I said, trying to be bright and perky. It never worked—I just wasn’t a bright and perky sort of person. ‘‘Someone decides they want an exact copy of themselves, they invoke a demon lord, sacrifice one of their character traits, and poof! A doppelganger appears, after which there is usually much merrymaking and quite possibly an orgy.’’

Sobe just looked at me, its lips pursed now. I made a mental note that attempts at humor were wasted on demons.

‘‘I see. What are you doing here if you’re a naiad’s twin?’’

‘‘It’s a long story, and one that would probably bore you to tears,’’ I said, not wanting to get into my history with a strange demon. ‘‘Let’s just leave it at the fact that I do some work for Magoth now and again. How is he today?’’

‘‘The master? He laughed. Twice.’’

I flinched.

Sobe nodded, tapping a couple of keys on the computer with long, rose-tipped fingers. ‘‘You don’t have an appointment, doppelganger. If you work for him, you must know how he gets when his servants approach him without an appointment.’’

‘‘I’m expected,’’ I answered airily, trying to quell the bile that inevitably rose within my gut whenever I was summoned before Magoth. He might be the lowest of all the demon lords, but my meetings with him were fraught with . . . well, dread.

‘‘It’s your life,’’ Sobe answered with a shrug, returning its attention to the laptop. ‘‘What’s left of it.’’

I squared my shoulders, gathering up my strength before I knocked gently on the door that led into a large office. Magoth on the best of days wasn’t easy to deal with. . . . A happy Magoth boded ill for everyone.

‘‘Entrez!’’

A little shiver ran down my spine as I opened the door. Low, smoky music drifted out of invisible speakers as I negotiated the candlelit narrow hallway that opened into Magoth’s living quarters, which he used as his office.

‘‘Ah, May, what a delight to see you again. You look as delicious as ever.’’ Magoth shimmered into view, dressed in a dark blue shirt open three-quarters of the way down his chest, tight black leather pants, and a bullwhip

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