Dark Siren by Katerina Martinez

I’ve rendered.”
    She made a pschh sound, but said nothing else.
    Ignoring her, he continued. “Have you never worked with someone who didn’t demand a down payment before?”
    “Considering I don’t normally hire out, no. And I always require a down payment. Nothing comes for free.”
    “I know that.”
    “I also like knowing what I’m getting into, and you’re putting me in a bind.”
    “I’m not asking you to pull your own fingernails off. All I’m asking is for you to let me ask you what I want after we’re finished.”
    Alice thought she really would rather pull her own fingernails off than give Isaac a blank check, but then realized this was bullshit. She had watched some pretty accurate representations of what it would be like to have your nails peeled off. Nope. She had just told herself a great big lie, but there was some truth to her initial rejection. She didn’t want him having anything he could lord over her.
    She considered other ways of getting Emily home safely, tried to think back to those other people who owed her favors and whether they knew anything about the Reflection at all. Truth was, Alice didn’t have many friends, nor people who owed her favors. She worked on commission, not promises. Like it or not, there was no way of removing Isaac from the equation entirely no matter how much she disliked dealing with him.
    He was here, he had the tools she needed, and Emily didn’t have much time.
    Alice rolled her eyes and said “Fine.”
    “Good,” Isaac said, extending his hand, “In that case, consider us partners.”
    Alice studied him, deciding what she should do next, what she should say. This was the first time in years they had been in each other’s company, and the first time in a long time that they had spoken without an argument erupting like an angry volcano. But the thought of Emily, the guilt of what she was going through, shone through far more brightly than her apprehension of working with Isaac Moreau.
    She chose not to shake his hand, and instead sat down in the armchair in the corner of the room. It was comfortable enough, packed with so much of that lightweight foam stuff that Alice seemed to melt right into it. Isaac watched her with a frown on his face. He looked at the door, and then back at her.
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
    “Waiting.”
    “Waiting for what?”
    “For you to do what you have to do.”
    “Alice… this could take hours. I have a lot of books to go through and a lot of things to collect.”
    “Fine. You work, I’ll read.”
    “Read? Here?”
    “Why not? I’m good to go. You’re the one who needs to prepare his toolbox. Are you telling me there’s something I could do to help move things along?”
    “Well, no, but—”
    “—then I’ll be right here. Reading.”
    She pulled an eReader out of her backpack, raised it to eye level, and let her head slip back, feeling the foam cup her neck like a gentle set of hands. Isaac didn’t get to work for a good few seconds after, and part of her enjoyed making him nervous. The other part of her, however, was already exhausted. Alice had to remind herself more than once of where she was and force herself to stay awake, to keep her eyes on the pages of the Agatha Christie novel she had been getting through over the past couple of days. But her eyes were heavy, her body tight with exhaustion, and her mind was slipping. She knew she would need to feed soon—feed on a soul—only Isaac was in the picture now, and she didn’t want him knowing about her… vulnerability .
    Sleep came quickly, and whether this was the book’s fault or a result of her tiredness didn’t matter. She was asleep in Isaac Moreau’s office and vulnerable whether she liked it or not.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER NINE
     
     
    The Good Doctor
    Isaac had told Alice he would need a couple of hours to get things ready, but the truth was that he only needed a couple of minutes. The magic he needed to use in order to