The politics of an inter-species and inter-dimensional workplace promised to keep me on my toes. I was more than thankful for my two weeks of orientation training where I’d learned more than I ever thought there was to know about supernaturals, up to and including the best way to avoid being swallowed by an annoyed lindworm, and the proper etiquette for greeting a Bolivian basilisk. Very carefully.
Mine was an empty, sad-looking desk. The name plate on the desk read: “Irvine Schremp.” Jenny quickly picked it up with an apologetic grin.
“So what happened to Irvine?” I asked.
Jenny glanced around without moving her head. “Exsanguinated by a school of giant North American sewer leeches.”
I froze. “Drained?”
“Bone dry. They even sucked out his marrow. All in less than a minute.”
Breathe, Mac. Just breathe. Full medical coverage. Full medical. It’s a good thing.
While my eyes started involuntarily darting around to find the nearest exit—just in case, of course—I saw that on the desk closest to mine was a collection of items I wouldn’t have expected to see outside a horror movie or a psycho’s happy fun-time imagination.
And a dental plan. A good one.
There were four shelves on the wall filled with everything from action figures from an assortment of fantasy and horror movies to shell casings from impossibly large guns. More than a few of the monster action figures were missing their heads, or had sharp, pointy objects sticking out of their torsos.
My confusion and concern must have been apparent.
“Desk flair,” Jenny explained. “Mementos of particularly memorable missions.”
The name on the desk plate read: “Ian Byrne.”
“He collected all this him—”
“Oh, no. If your fellow agents deem your actions deserving, they’ll give you desk flair. It’s quite the honor around here.”
This Ian Byrne had been a busy boy.
“Ian’s really good at eradication,” Jenny said.
I glanced at the nightmare-inducing trinkets. “I can see that.”
I looked around at the other field agents and their desks. The only ones that had more flair belonged to vampires and werewolves.
“Ian is the highest-producing human in the company. A real go-getter. He was a detective with the NYPD for five years and was in the military the seven before that. You’re in for a real treat.” Jenny’s green eyes sparkled with near fan-girl glee. “In more ways than one.” She lowered her voice. “You’re the envy of every succubus and half of the incubuses in the company.” She quickly held up her hands. “Though rest assured, SPI has a zero-tolerance policy in place for harassment of any kind—from sexual to trying to have a coworker for lunch.” Jenny suddenly looked distracted, tilting her head to one side. “Madame Sagadraco would like to see you now.”
“Are you telepathic?” River hags weren’t, but I could see where it’d come in handy for attracting a human who was playing hard to get to join her for a dip.
Jenny tapped her right ear with a long, pink-lacquered nail. A really pointed, pink-lacquered nail. She smiled in her cheerful flash of pushpin teeth. “Bluetooth.”
We took an elevator up to the fifth floor and the executive suite. “I’m sure Madame Sagadraco will be with you in just a moment.” Jenny gave me a little finger wave and closed the door quietly behind her, leaving me completely alone in a wood-paneled waiting area that reminded me of something out of Hogwarts.
I’d been introduced to Vivienne Sagadraco, the founder and CEO of SPI, at my final interview before being hired. Maybe she met with every new employee, or perhaps being the only seer in the New York office had earned me the special treatment. The other agents referred to her as the dragon lady, but until I’d met her in person, I hadn’t realized that was meant literally.
The lady in charge was a dragon.
She could morph in and out of human form; but as a seer, I got a clear view of what she really was.
To a normal person, Vivienne Sagadraco appeared to be a petite and attractive woman in her late sixties. My seer vision let me see a dragon with peacock blue and green iridescent scales, a pair of sleek wings folded like long shadows against her back. A faintly glowing aura around her told me that she was larger than I ever really wanted visual confirmation on.
The boss’s voice came through the partially open office door. “You’re an exceptional agent, and I believe you are also the best qualified, or I would not be asking this of you.”
“How long do you anticipate this assignment lasting?” It was a man’s voice, a man who was keeping his emotions firmly in check. Unhappy emotions.
Vivienne Sagadraco’s British accent was cool and smooth, reminding me of Judi Dench’s M about to give James Bond some really bad news. Apparently, an SPI agent was in her office and on the receiving end of some bad news right now.
Did she know I was out here? Should I close the door? Though she’d told Jenny to bring me here; and as a dragon, she had preternatural hearing. All that told me she wanted me to overhear. Though whoever she was talking to would be even less happy knowing that the newest employee had overheard him being given a crap assignment that he clearly didn’t want. I hoped I liked my first assignment better than he did.
“The assignment will last as long as necessary,” came Vivienne Sagadraco’s cool response. “I will inform you when you may resume your regular duties.”
“Yes, ma’am. I understand.” His clipped tone said he understood only too well, and he liked it a lot less.
The boss raised her voice. “Agent Fraser, if you would join us, please.”
Oh shit.
I took a breath, tried for a nonthreatening, I-didn’t-hear-a-thing smile, opened the door and went in.
“Agent Fraser, I’d like you to meet your new partner—Agent Ian Byrne. Agent Byrne, this is Makenna Fraser, your new assignment.”
Oh shit.
Ian Byrne was about six foot three with a body you couldn’t get in a gym, lean muscles coiled and ready for violence, cropped dark hair, cheekbones you could cut yourself on, and steel-blue eyes set on pissed and aimed at me. An instant later, pissed was replaced by professional. If I’d blinked, I’d have just seen professional. I hadn’t blinked, so I’d gotten the full treatment.
I stuck out my hand without looking away from those eyes. He shook my hand with a firm grip and released it. No smile, no warmth, no welcome to the company. I’d heard what the boss had told him and his response. He knew that I’d heard. Somehow I didn’t see a friendly invite to after-work drinks in my future. Ever.
This was awkward.
“Unfortunately, Agent Fraser, there is no time for further orientation or training,” Vivienne Sagadraco said. “We require your presence in the field tonight. We have a politically embarrassing situation that, left unresolved, could result in the failure of the banking system of the entire supernatural world.” She glanced at an elegant diamond watch. Dragons liked their sparklies. “In ten minutes there will be a briefing in the main conference room.” Her sharp eyes locked on mine. “I would rather the situation not be this critical on your first mission; but unfortunately, we cannot choose the timing of our crises. I am certain our faith in your abilities has not been misplaced.” The narrowing of those eyes told me loud and clear they’d better not be.
I went for a smile; it probably looked like a grimace. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
AND the awkwardness just kept on coming.
My first assignment was to locate the aforementioned “five horny leprechauns” that had vanished while in a strip club.
I recognized the five agents from the conference room, and judging by the less than friendly stares, they remembered me seeing and hearing their butts getting handed to them by their ogre manager, who had gotten a handle on his temper and was now the very picture of professional middle management, albeit with beady, yellow eyes.