Authors: L.A. Kelley
The Naughty List (2 page)
She stared glumly around her. Funny how she ended up at Penrose’s. The job started out as a temporary measure after college graduation. With the economy in the toilet she was grateful for any full-time employment. Rosalie planned to work a few months and then continue the search for her dream job. To her surprise, everything she desired was right here.
Penrose’s was the oldest department store in Seaglades, Florida, a city nestled in the northwest corner of the state. The building stood four stories high with an imposing granite façade, and along with the parking lot, took up one full block. Built back in the day when a trip downtown was a treat, walking through the massive double doors felt like entering another world.
Merchandise was selected with care, often locally made products different and unique to the area. If someone said, ‘It’s from Penrose’s’, you knew they’d bought a quality item. Even with all the competition from mall stores and the Internet, Penrose’s survived.
The main reason Rosalie loved Penrose’s, though, was the people. With the exception of Stephanie, the staff generated a warm family atmosphere. Many of the employees worked at the store for decades. Good feelings passed on to the customers. On more than one occasion Rosalie watched a frazzled mother with a crying baby pass through Penrose’s massive doors. As soon as the stroller rolled over the threshold, the wailing stopped. She even made up a name for it—the Penrose Pacifier.
In sour spirits Rosalie took two steps toward Customer Service before coming to a sudden halt. Anthony! She spun around and scanned the store. His tall figure stood out immediately in the thinning crowd as he headed back toward Central Receiving. Stephanie walked at his side. Anthony bent his head toward hers to say something. She flashed an over-bleached smile and nodded back. Rosalie pursed her lips in annoyance. A private conversation with Anthony had to wait.
Rosalie buried her disappointment and focused on setting up Customer Service. The cash register lacked the green-zippered bag used to hold the receipts for the daily returns. Stephanie’s responsibility was to collect the full bag and replace it with an empty one when she opened the registers in the morning. Rosalie rifled through the cash drawer and noticed the gift card stock low, too. Replenishing them was another one of Stephanie’s jobs. She scowled. Marissa would never forget.
Rosalie notified the business office as the first customers of the day filtered in.
After the opening rush subsided, work hit a lull. Rosalie’s mind drifted aimlessly back to Anthony. She mentally flipped through her morning schedule plotting an interception course. The employee a nhe empllockers were near Central Receiving. Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ run into him during her break.
Oh, hi. Didn’t see you there. About that coffee…
“Stephanie…do you believe it?”
Rosalie started—so deep in thought she didn’t see Ross Kilpatrick approach. He was a middle-aged man who usually managed Menswear. During the holidays he helped set up Christmas Land and then acted as the store’s Santa. His wife passed away several years ago and he raised their four kids on his own. Ross was a natural.
“I can’t believe Randall screwed over Marissa. What a dick.”
Rosalie shook her finger. “Santa is not supposed to say either ‘screwed over’ or ‘dick’. Although, you’re right.”
“I’m not Santa until Christmas Land opens. Until then Randall’s a dick. Here.” He handed her a green bag. “Marissa asked me to drop it off. She’s too busy to leave the office, doing all the work Stephanie should have finished already. She said to tell you she’ll bring down the gift cards later. By the way, thanks for your help setting up Santa’s throne the other day. I’m getting too old for all that heavy lifting.” The throne was an old wooden structure used every Christmas season at Penrose’s since the store opened.
“I can’t believe we still have the same display. The throne’s seat padding is completely shot.”
“Tell me about it,” Ross groaned. “No lumbar support at all. I mentioned it to Mr. Russo after last year. He agreed, but the decision was put on hold for the new manager. It’s up to Stephanie now.” He wandered off as a customer approached the counter.
At eleven o’clock Rosalie took her break and scampered directly over to Central Receiving. She slipped through the door and pretended to head for the break room in the back, all the while searching for Anthony. He neither stocked shelves nor unloaded merchandise. Disappointed, she bought a granola bar from the vending machine and sat at a table keeping one eye on the door while she ate. Anthony never showed.
Marissa was tied up in the office all morning. She broke away long enough to deliver the gift cards and beg Rosalie to extend her shift until closing. “Julie asked for the day off. Stephanie okayed the leave and was supposed to let me know, but…well…it slipped her mind. Anyway, the furniture department is now short-handed. I’m sorry the request is last minute.”
“No problem.” Not that work interferes with my nonexistent social life, she thought with regret as she rode the escalator up to the third floor.
Near closing, Rosalie took a last-minute call from a customer requesting the status of a special order. She could plead ignorance. Other stores would instruct the customer to call back in the morning when the regular staff was on duty, but service was Penrose’s way. Instead, Rosalie excavated through the paperwork and found the delivery date. Consequently, she was one of the last employees to leave. Security personnel had already dimmed the lights. The departments were quiet as Rosalie made her way through the deserted aisles to the back. The only open exit at this hour was through Central Receiving.
Passing Christmas Land, Rosalie was startled by voices. Abruptly, the door leading to the management offices opened and Anthony walked out. Rosalie was about to call to him when Stephanie exited right behind. The willowy blonde slipped her arm into his and they strolled toward the exit.
****
“You bring news, hellhound?”
Billy stifled a curse. The Odin used his official title. The wardens were realequns werely freaked. “Not yet, sir. David dashed-away out of the city. As you know, his ability leaves only a sporadic trail harder to track.”
The dark-haired man in his early thirties next to the Odin curled his lips disparagingly. “He’s also your friend. If you can’t find him…”
“I didn’t say that.” Billy bit back an angry reply. Trust the Baal to try to piss him off enough to lose his cool in front of the other wardens. “I have the general direction. I’ll find him, but the search will take time.”
The Odin spoke. “Time is a luxury we don’t have.” He glanced at David’s father. Although manacled and under heavy guard, Brian sported a calm demeanor and met the Odin’s gaze squarely.
Billy’s temper flared. The shackles had been the Baal’s command. Perfectly legal, of course, since they kept any Integral from calling power, but certainly not necessary. Shields built into the chamber produced the same effect. Besides, Brian gave his word he wouldn’t run—and his word was granite.
The Odin didn’t seem happy with the decision, either. Billy glanced around at the other wardens. As written in the ancient laws, two deities, two demons, and two demigods elected by the populace sat at the high table. Unlike the Baal and the Odin, the faces of the Hera, the Dagon, the Toltec, and the Yōkai offered no clue where their sympathies lay.
“Continued discussion is pointless,” rumbled the Odin. “We keep the hellhound from his mission.” He leaned forward and addressed Billy directly. “Find David and return him
safely
.” He overemphasized the last word.
The point wasn’t lost on Billy. At least not everyone on the council was out for blood. The Odin would ensure Brian would not be tried until David was brought back.
And then what?
You know their fate.
You know the law as well as anyone.
He suppressed a shudder.
The Baal let out a protest. “The law doesn’t require—”
The Odin half-rose from his seat. “I ordered him returned safely, Dominic.” Stephen Lundberg was generally a mild-tempered man, but this time he thundered out, “Unless you wish to challenge me.” The Baal stiffened, but remained silent.
Billy stifled a chuckle at Dominic Schiller’s obvious discomfort.
Prick—serves you right.
Dismissed by the wardens, the hellhound exited the great hall and made straight for the armory. Word had already filtered down, and the medusa and the valkyrie stationed inside only gave him a cursory glance. He picked up a pair of the arcane manacles, identical to the one encircling Brian’s wrists and stowed them in the pocket of his leather jacket, carefully avoiding the etched symbols on the inside. Even with the precaution, he flinched at the touch. It took a lot to make a hellhound flinch, especially one as big as Billy. Brian must be in pain, he thought bitterly. He wouldn’t give in, of course. He’d never allow the Baal the satisfaction.
As he turned the corner a shiva dressed in full battle mode blocked the entrance to the underground garage.
Oh, shit, what now?
“Aunt Sadhri, I’m in kind of a hurry.”
She beckoned him to the open door of a storage unit. “Get inside, young man. Now.”
He stifled a groan, but obeyed. Never argue with a shiva.
He learned that lesson the hard way from his mom. David’s mother, Grace waited within. “You shouldn’t be here,” Billy hissed. “If the wardens knew I talked to you—”
Grace gave him a quick hug. “I’m not worried. I have a shiva guarding the door.”
Oh, cripes.
“No ma’am.”
Grace glanced down at the end of a manacle dangling from his pocket. “I hate to tell you, but if they’re meant for me, they don’t work on humans.”
Embarrassed, he quickly stuffed it back inside his jacket. “They’re for David. I-I’m sorry. Stephen ordered me to find him.”
“Don’t be. I rather have you on the hunt than any of the other hounds.” She grabbed his arm. “Something is going on here more complicated than a robbery. You know that. David would never be a party to the theft of The Book.”
“I know. I can’t figure what happened. Do you have any idea where he went?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t take his phone or credit cards.”
“He knows better. They make him too easy to trace.” Billy eyed the door. “I have to go. David already has a long lead. What about you? You should go into hiding.”
“Never. I won’t leave Brian. Besides, humans are no threat to anyone. Ask the Baal. I’ll snoop around and see what I can find out. Brian and I still have friends.”
“You didn’t see the look on Dominic’s face. Just because you’re not a threat, doesn’t mean you won’t become a target.”
“Dominic’s an ass wipe,” sneered Sadhri, still guarding the door. “Besides, she has a shiva at her back.”
Grace flashed a grin. “Hear that. Now go. Find David.”
Billy slipped out the door and into his car. He pulled out of the underground garage, rolled down the window, and inhaled deeply through his nose. A few stray molecules of David’s scent latched on to his nasal receptors. There…he turned onto the Lincoln Highway toward the Holland Tunnel. David was long gone from New York City, but no matter how fast or far a quarry runs, a hellhound never loses the scent.
****e She
Rosalie cradled her head against the steering wheel with a groan. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking? Men like him don’t go for coffee. They go for women with ginormous headlights crammed into a pushup bra.”
She gave the car key a savage twist and the engine wheezed to life. Ten minutes later she dragged herself up to the third floor of an apartment building and into her tiny rental. Rosalie shut the door, threw her purse to the ground, and plopped onto the sofa.
“Men are stupid.” She punched a pillow. “Who needs them? Spend another holiday alone. No big deal.”
Her gaze strayed around the cramped one bedroom apartment; bathroom, kitchenette with eating area open to a living room with a scattering of used furniture. Space challenged for sure, but all hers—the only place she could afford after student loan and car payments. Another few years and those would be paid off, too. She sighed. The promotion would have been nice. With the extra money, she wouldn’t have to live on the thin edge of a dime any longer.
“Stupid Randall, stupid men.”
Rosalie shot to her feet. “Moping gets you nowhere. Who cares if it’s barely November? What you need, missy, is a little holiday cheer.”
She pulled a battered cardboard box from the closet and ran her hand lovingly over the dusty surface. Rosalie’s Christmas Box—her mother’s handwriting clearly visible even after all these years. She unpacked the bedraggled artificial tree and wrapped aroundheeapped a the lights. A boxful of handmade ornaments, a few strands of garland and voilâ! Rosalie stood back to admire the results. The top of the tree canted lazily to one side, most of the glitter had fallen off the macaroni wreath, and the craft stick reindeer lacked one googley eye. To her mind, the tree never looked better.
Rosalie placed one final ornament near the top, a bright pink snowflake always hung last. Her father bought the ugly hunk of plastic before he passed away. She loved every garish bit. Austin always ribbed her about the little tradition to jumpstart the holidays. Now he was gone, too. Off to a new job with a new girlfriend in California.
“At least we still have each other, Snowflake.”
She slipped into pajamas and made a PB&J. Snuggling under the comforter on the sofa, Rosalie watched TV while she ate. The twinkly glow of the tree lights cast patchy shadows on the wall.
“Life isn’t so bad, Snowflake. The holidays are almost here. Penrose’s always shines during the holidays. Plus, I’ll get my employee bonus soon
.”
The thought was enough to perk up Rosalie. Maybe the extra money would keep her a few car payments ahead of the game. She shivered as an errant chill sent a ripple of goose bumps up her arm. Suddenly nervous, she glanced around. The lights didn’t seem so bright anymore, intensifying the drab interior.
Except for one.
The little pink snowflake cast a blood red reflection on the wall as if flashing a warning. She blinked. The image vanished. Rosalie chuckled to herself.
Oh brother, I’m really tired.
She turned off the TV and staggered into the bedroom. Five minutes after her head hit the pillow she was asleep.
****
David stood on top of General Robert E. Lee’s head and surveyed the surroundings. The lake at the foot of Stone Mountain, Georgia, was far below surrounded by a mixture of wooded areas and green open fields. As dusk settled, Atlanta’s lights twinkled in the distance. Any other time the young man would linger over the breathtaking view, but he wasn’t there to sightsee.
He closed his eyes and let his senses drift. For a few horrible moments the thread eluded his grasp. Did the connection sever already?
Oh please…not yet.
With undisguised relief, he latched on to the sharp unmistakable pull. The Book was south this time…definitely south. At least he was headed in the right direction. He realized his hands shook and grinned wryly.
You’re not dead yet. Keep ahead of the hellhounds and you’ll be fine.
David’s sharp eyes pinpointed an open spot down on the valley floor over eight hundred feet below. The light was strong enough for him to get a good fix; no cars, no people, nothing to impede a soft landing. He casually stepped off General Le
e’s head, and dashed-away in a puff of wind.