Brothers of Brimstone Book 1: Slater

MALLORY

My first instinct was to panic, but then I realized that the first floor was still shrouded in darkness. Since I had fallen asleep during daylight hours, I hadn’t had any need to turn on any lights.

Though the debt collector had crossed my threshold, we had not made contact yet, and I had not been officially served.

Not daring to turn my back on the demon, I began to retreat, intending to dash out of the kitchen and exit through the front door. The debt collector would know I had dodged him, but there wouldn’t be much he could do about it once I was gone.

In the darkness, I could make out the kitchen doorframe, and I felt my legs tense as I mustered up the courage to make a run for it.

“Mallory Moody?” the creature asked, taking a step forward.

I had been frozen in inaction until that moment, but his advance jolted me into action.

I turned to dash out of the kitchen, but I ran smack into the doorjamb instead of entering the hall. My head spun as I fell on my behind.

Before I had a chance to recover, I heard the debt collector cry out, “I found the light switch!”

I lifted my hand to shield my eyes as the light suspended above my kitchen table sprang to life.

“There, that’s much better,” the humanoid specimen in my kitchen declared.

I had only heard rumors about the debt collectors’ beauty, so I found myself unprepared to see one in the flesh.

He had a head of dark, wavy hair, which he’d slicked back to reveal heavy eyebrows that hooded vibrant blue eyes. His facial features were impossibly symmetrical and complemented by a powerful square jaw.

The debt collector was dressed sharply in a pressed gray suit with a white dress shirt and red tie. His well-polished loafers completed the ensemble nicely.

Though terrified, I couldn’t resist combing my fingers through my tangled tresses. I felt silly grooming myself at a time like this, but his good looks made me feel insecure about my appearance.

“Let’s get you to your feet,” he said, offering me a smooth, well-manicured hand.

Confident that he was attempting to trick me into a handshake, which was as good as a signature in the witching world, I waved his hand away. I clung to a nearby chair for support as I lifted myself onto my feet.

“Mallory Moody?” he repeated once I was standing.

I tucked in my bottom lip and refused to answer.

Undeterred, the creature proceeded in a businesslike manner. “I am Slater. I will be your auditor.”

Without waiting for an invitation, he helped himself to a seat at the table. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and extracted a stack of neatly folded papers.

“I am here to collect on your debts,” he said, then paused and motioned to the seat across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

I could have outrightly refused, but I couldn’t bring myself to be rude. My mind scrambled as my eyes darted around the kitchen.

My first thought was to try to make another run for it, but another glance at my debt collector discouraged me.

It was evident that under Slater’s well-tailored suit lay a muscular physique and powerful legs that would quickly catch up with me.

I had just dismissed this option when my eyes landed on my stainless steel kettle on the stove.

“I’ve just woken up and am feeling a bit discombobulated,” I apologized. “Would you mind if I made some tea?”

Slater seemed taken aback but not the least bit suspicious as he replied, “By all means; it is your home after all. You don’t need my permission.”

“So kind of you,” I quipped. I hurried to the stove and moved toward the sink as if I meant to fill the kettle. “Would you like a cup as well?”

Slater raised his brow. “I would love some.”

“Fantastic—but first, I need you to take a look at this!” I exclaimed, leaping forward with the kettle and raising it to Slater’s line of sight.

Slater was momentarily confused, but his puzzlement was forgotten as he gazed at his reflection.

“Oh my,” he proclaimed. “I certainly am a handsome devil.”

“Yes, you are,” I agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone I’ve found more attractive.”

Randall sprang to mind at that moment, but I wasn’t about to tell the debt collector; in fact, I had no intention of sharing any information with him.

Holding the tea kettle steady, I commented, “So, you really are a devil.”

“The devil’s advocate,” Slater corrected me. “I’m not the devil. I was forged in fire to serve Hades, though that would technically make me his son. I’m more like his little worker bee.”

“That’s interesting,” I responded as Slater turned his head to admire his side profile.

Wondering how long I would have to keep this up, I glanced at the clock.

An estimated six hours remained until sunrise. I wasn’t sure I could keep my arm in this position for that long, so I would have to devise another plan soon.

“What is this?” Slater suddenly gasped.

I froze and cocked my head in an attempt to see what had disturbed him. “What is it?” I ventured.

“There is a smudge,” Slater said.

Without peeling his eyes away from his reflection, he reached into his square pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

“Let me offer you a polish,” he told the tea kettle as he began to use circular motions to buff the shiny metal.

“Oh dear Luna,” he gasped, then gave me a sheepish look. “That was not a smudge; it was a dab of butter. I’m afraid I dirtied your kettle.”

“Oh no!” I cried, though not out of concern with the cleanliness of my tea kettle. Since his image in the kettle was smudged, his reflection would no longer be able to hold his attention.

“No need to be so dramatic,” Slater said. “It’s nothing I can’t fix with a little soap and water.”

I was filled with dread as he scooted back his chair and began to stand.

“Wait!” I commanded him.

Slater turned his attention to me, and while I held his gaze, my arm swung back.

I hurled the kettle into his face with all the force I could muster.