Demon's Little Lamb (Shadow Demons 2)

Demon's Little Lamb (Shadow Demons 2)
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Marteeka Karland

“I got it! I got it!” Lamb Newsome thought her heart was going to beat through her chest. Her university advisor had gotten her an invite to apply for an internship at Argent Tech in Rockwell, Indiana just over a month ago. The invite alone was a monumental accomplishment, but to actually have been accepted? Yeah. She was on cloud nine.

“Shut up! You lie!” Karen, her best friend and roommate, looked at her with wide, round eyes, a huge smile splitting her face.

“Swear to God! Look!” She thrust the certified letter at Karen, who took it and read, her grin growing ever wider as she skimmed the important parts. “It’s signed by fucking Azriel Ivanovich himself!”

“I know, right?” Lamb stopped, then snatched the letter back, frowning as she examined it, holding it up to the light and everything. “You think he actually signed it? Might be a stamped signature.”

“Girl! That letter is on the fanciest paper stock I’ve ever seen. Of course he fucking signed it!” They both let out a squeal of delight. “When do you start? Will you still be able to go to Key West with us?”

“Yes. With about eight days to spare. Just enough time to recover from any hangovers and sunburn I bring home with me.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to be interning at Argent! I’m so jealous!” Karen didn’t look jealous. She looked as happy as Lamb was. They’d both worked so hard for the best jobs after grad school. Sure, they’d competed for every honor earned, but neither woman had taken their rivalry seriously.

An internship wasn’t permanent work, but it helped get her foot in the door and would give her valuable knowledge she’d have going into the next phase of her life. If she did well enough, and there was a spot available, she might even get to stay at Argent. That was a just a fleeting thought, though. Not an expectation. Argent rarely took on interns and never kept them longer than two years. But every single one had gone on to be one of the top minds in their given fields. She and Karen had competed for the Argent internship as well. Lamb figured it could have gone either way. She just got lucky.

“I can’t believe it either. But I’ll take it.”

Karen didn’t ask about the pay, and Lamb had no idea what it would be. Didn’t care. She doubted anyone who’d been offered a spot had truly cared about the income. They’d pay her what she was worth to them. Had they not thought she had potential, they wouldn’t have offered her a spot to begin with.

“You still ready to leave in the morning?” Karen gave her a grin as she took a pull from her beer.

“I’ll have to make a quick stop by campus to meet with the contact from Argent, so I’ll be a couple hours behind you guys, but yes. I’m still leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Awesome! We’ll save you a seat and have a mimosa ready for you when you get there.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They spent the rest of the evening drinking and celebrating. By the time Karen and the other three women in the group had stuffed their suitcases in the trunk of Karen’s little BMW, Lamb was in her car headed back to campus. The Ford Focus Lamb drove wasn’t fancy, but it would get her to the Keys and back.

The meeting on campus took less than an hour. By the end of it, Lamb was ready to cancel her vacation and start work immediately, but the man who’d spoken with her had insisted she take this time to relax. He promised she’d get little enough of it once she started work for them. Lamb had shaken his hand, unable to keep the huge grin off her face, then left.

* * *

Day two on the beach was like a dream come true for Lamb. The sun was hot, the waves relaxing, and the drinks plentiful. She’d say the guys were hot, except most were three times her age and interested mostly in golf. Which was fine. The few men she’d met who’d offered to buy her a drink were interesting to talk to. She’d also made it clear she wasn’t there to hook up with a rich guy, but she was definitely up for a lively debate or a stimulating round of chess. Most laughed and declined her offer, but a couple took her up on it. One gentleman scratched his head after she’d beaten him soundly in three rounds of speed chess before laughing loudly and shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’ve got beauty and brains, young lady. Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently. Not sure what you’re doing with your life, but you’d better make it count.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded, taking his hand when he’d offered it to her.

“Don’t let these old fools here have the satisfaction of buying your affections. Keep your head in the game, and you’ll get very far on your own merits.”

“Sound advice, sir,” she said with a grin. “I’ll make sure to follow it to the letter.”

That was the evening of her second night. She went to bed with a smile on her face and joy in her heart. The future was so bright, it was almost inevitable she’d find the dark somehow.

“You played a fine game.”

She was sitting on the beach the next morning playing chess with another older man when they were approached by a bystander. The compliment came from a distinguished-looking gentleman dressed in khaki shorts and a hula shirt… and with the sexiest British accent. It wasn’t a thick accent, just enough to be a turn-on for Lamb. This was a man she could sit and listen to all day long. How he managed to look distinguished in that getup was amazing, but somehow he pulled it off. He had a full head of dark chestnut hair with silver at his temples. He was fit, but not overly muscled. It was the kind of body that would look good in a suit and could still show muscle in clothing like he was currently wearing. Lamb bet he had a fine washboard abdomen and defined arms under the short sleeves.

“Thank you. Chess is a hobby of mine. Helps me relax sometimes.”

“Everyone needs something to settle their mind.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Lamb smiled at him. He was handsome in a conventional way. Nothing overt or over the top. Nothing overblown or obviously fake, though she suspected he’d had some kind of plastic surgery done to his nose. There was just something about it that didn’t quite fit the rest of his face. There wasn’t a laugh line to be seen at his eyes or mouth. He was almost too perfect.

He held out his hand. “I’m James Luxemberry.”

“Lamb Newsome,” she answered. “Are you here for the sand and the sun?”

“Most assuredly. And the sea. I’ve not spent nearly enough time on my yacht as I’d intended.”

“Wow. That sounds like fun.”

“It can be.” He gave a little secretive smile. “What are you drinking, my dear?”