Alexis's POV

"You never mentioned that our client is in kindergarten," Rick said, peering through the blinds at the young man getting out of the passenger side of a car. "Oh, is that his mommy who's dropping him off? Great. How am I going to get paid if he's not old enough to hold a job?" 

I took a deep breath before responding. This man was going to drive me insane eventually, I could feel it. They would find me ranting and raving about mole people in a supermarket. It was only a matter of time. 

"He's in college, not kindergarten," I hissed through clenched teeth. "And for the record, that's his girlfriend dropping him off. She will be waiting in the driveway for him because she's studying for her physics exam in the car. As for your money, I promise, you will get paid one way or another. Just, please try and behave in front of the client, ok? Can you do that, Rick?" I smiled and waved at our client, trying to make a good first impression. One of us had to. 

"Well, I'll try," Rick replied with a scowl. "But I'm warning you, if he asks for graham crackers and milk for snack time, we're going to have a problem."

It seemed to me that there was only one child present, and it wasn't the client. Rick was attractive, fine. He wore those tattered jeans well, I would give him that. He had what I would objectively describe as the most perfect a*s I had ever seen. And his wild hair begged me to run my fingers through it. But as handsome as he was, I realized that I was going to have to watch him like a hawk if we were going to get through this meeting with a modicum of professionalism.  

I responded by elbowing him in the ribs, earning me a wolfish grin. That grin was dangerous. I couldn't help thinking - the better to eat you with, my dear. I shook my head to clear it. Focus on the client. I smoothed down my black cashmere dress and put on my most winning smile. It was showtime. 

"Just out of curiosity, how do your neighbors feel about random people coming to your house at all hours of the night?" Rick asked. "I mean, as your security expert, it seems like a risky way to conduct business. Apart from the obvious pitfalls of having strangers in your home, people talk. It's just the way it is. Especially in small towns like this." 

He had a point. The suburbs were rife with gossip, and I was far from immune. That aspect of the business worried me more than I cared to admit. My rancher had a separate entrance for clients, and a privacy fence surrounding the property. I kept my lawn neat and my hedges trimmed to avoid attracting attention to myself. But I knew that wouldn't stop some tongues from wagging. 

"Our clients arrive after dark most of the time," I told him, gesturing to the deepening twilight outside the window. "I assume the neighbors just think I'm popular. And as for security, well, isn't that why I hired you in the first place?" If a client turned out to be violent, or dangerous in any other way, I hoped Rick would be able to take care of it. I regularly cast spells of protection over the threshold of the office to keep whatever psychic anomalies clients might accidentally drag in with them out of the main house. I had enough to deal with as it was. I didn't want boogeymen hiding in my closets any more than my clients did.

"Clearly, your neighbors don't know you very well," he responded with a smirk. "You don't strike me as the social butterfly type." 

I wanted to argue, but Rick was accurate in his assessment. When I wasn't at work or with a client, my idea of relaxation usually involved a good book and a vodka tonic rather than a neighborhood block party. 

"That's true, and I work hard to keep it that way," I replied evenly. I was not going to let him bait me. We didn't have time to argue over whether I was the life of the party. We had a client who needed our help. 

As far as clients went, Dan Stewart was younger than my usual customer. I estimated his age to be around eighteen rather than six. He wore tattered jeans, designer sneakers, and a black t-shirt announcing the name of a band I couldn't place. College music, I assumed. Dan was in his first semester at Hillford University (Go Wildcats!) just down the road, and from what I could gather from our phone conversation, his dorm room was haunted.

"Hey, great to meet you guys in person," Dan said, with a tentative smile, flicking his dark brown hair out of his eyes. Dan either really needed a haircut, or that was a style now. Impossible to determine. "I'm really glad you do this kind of thing. I've been having a hard time, and I didn't know what I was going to do." 

"We're happy to help," I assured him, directing him to the black leather couch delivered that afternoon. "Please, have a seat. Tell us about the problem." 

Dan looked even younger than his eighteen years when he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. I gave Rick a warning look, waiting for him to make a snarky comment, but he surprised me. His emerald eyes were laser-focused on what Dan had to say. 

"It happens every third night," Dan began, "the walls bleed. And this really loud voice yells at me to get out. If I don't do what it says, this thing comes out from under the bed. That's when I run." 

Bleeding walls were pretty standard in my line of work. A disembodied voice yelling to get out was also a common theme. Spirits and other nasties prefer to have their own space and aren't shy about letting you know. It was the thing under the bed that worried me. In my experience, they don't want to invite you to a game of Parcheesi. 

"The thing, what does it look like," Rick asked gravely, "is it big or small? Does it seem solid, like it could be killed? Or, you know, is it more like a spirit?" These were all really good questions. I nodded my approval. But once again, Rick didn't even notice. He was truly listening to the client. I was impressed. 

"It's big, about as tall as I am. And it's definitely solid," Dan replied with a shudder. "It grabbed my leg last night, actually. And left this." He pulled up his jeans to reveal a burn mark. The burn was shaped like a human hand but with claws on the ends of the fingers. I knew what this thing was and struggled not to show my reaction. It was a Shadowburner. A type of nasty ghoul that inhabits spaces where young people gather. If left to its own devices, it could take your soul. 

Rick looked at me for answers and I held up my finger, indicating that I needed a minute to process what I'd been told. I could deal with it, but I was glad that I'd have backup. One false move and we would all be sent to wherever this thing dwelled. And wherever that might be, it wasn't a college dorm room. 

"I can't sleep, I'm having trouble concentrating," Dan said, a slight tremble in his voice. "Listen, I'll pay whatever you want. I've got a little cash saved up. I work part-time at the student union building, and I can take extra shifts to cover the rest. I'm afraid I'm going to fail out of college. My grades are bad, and my parents are furious. I'm there on an academic scholarship so if my grades get any worse, they'll yank it, and I'll be done." 

"Don't worry about the money," Rick told him, with a gentleness I hadn't anticipated. "Let me talk to my partner for a minute, and we'll see what we can do." He motioned for me to head him into the kitchen, and I was so surprised that I followed his lead automatically. What was happening?

Neumann, who had been confined to the main house for the meeting, ran over to Rick and gave his new buddy a hello lick. Rick scratched him behind the ears distractedly.

"Don't worry about the money?" I couldn't resist teasing, but Rick ignored me. He was already in a battle stance. His long, lean body was at attention, with the dark look in his eyes of a soldier readying himself for combat. 

It was as sexy, and as distracting, as hell.

"What is this thing?" he asked me gravely. "How dangerous is it? And can it be killed?" 

All good questions. I wished briefly that he was his old, aggravating self. It was hard to reply when I was trying not to fantasize about what it would be like to kiss this new version of Rick. 

"It's a type of demon," I told him, pulling myself together. "Technically, it's called a Shadowburner. It's very dangerous and can take your soul. But yes, it can and should be killed as soon as possible." 

This was the moment of truth. If the whole, taking your soul risk was a deal-breaker for him I needed to know now. But apparently, I needn't have worried. 

"Then what are we waiting for?" he replied with a grim smile. "Time to kick some demon a*s."