He waved a hand toward the velvet sofa opposite. “Sit with me. Let’s chat.”
She perched on the sofa as he lounged back on his gilt-edged chair. Emmaline sat down next to her, acting like a sweet, reassuring presence. Too reassuring, in fact—Clare felt herself being lulled, seduced by the triangulation of energy between the three of them.
She pulled herself up short. Focused on her mission.
“So Anna, what brings you to Motham?”
She trotted out her little spiel about not reaching her potential in Tween. He nodded, and when she’d finished, said, “Monsters will pay top coin for your skills.”
“As a PA?”
“Of course, what else would I mean?” His brows raised, his smile amused. “Though that role would, of course, be merely a stepping stone.”
“A stepping stone to what?”Clare realized her tone sounded too sharp and softened it. “I’m new to the way of monsters. I’m just trying to understand my options.”
Emmaline reached over and squeezed her hand. “I felt like you when I first arrived here, and now look at me, running my own show.”
“Are you wanting a bigger, better, brighter future, Anna? To run your own show, like Emmaline?” the Master drawled.
“Oh, absolutely. I’m eager to get ahead. Life in Tween was so dull.”
“SOOO dull.” Emmaline rolled her eyes dramatically. “I almost died there of boredom!”
“Women such as you, Anna, are too beautiful to be wasted on dull little human towns.” The Master smirked.
Emmaline seemed to fluff up a little. “That was my asset too, wasn’t it, Master—my beauty?”
He gave her a condescending smile. “Indeed.”
Urgh, how sexist. But even so, Clare could understand how addictive his attention might be to some.
“I’m keen to discover my authentic self,” she murmured. “And partake of everything on offer.”
“Bravo, little dove. One of our most powerful employers is currently looking for a personal assistant. And you fit his criteria on every count,” the Master purred. “Unfortunately he couldn’t be here tonight, but Emmaline will organize an interview.”
Emmaline giggled. “Consider it done!”
Clare tinkled out a laugh. “Oh gosh. Now I am utterly intrigued.” She was dying to fire out a volley of questions, but acting shrewd and savvy was not what was needed here. She needed to be trusting and eager. “I’d be honored to meet him—Master.” She almost choked on her own sugary tone, but it seemed to do the trick. He gave her what most women would consider a heart-stopping smile. It sure near stopped her heart, but not in a good way. “Splendid.” The master rubbed his gloved palms together.
“Thank you for putting me forward, Master,” Clare added, batting her false lashes. Emmaline leaned over and hugged her. “You are going to get the job, sweetheart, I just know it.”
Clare wondered if Natalie had sat in this same chair, been overwhelmed by the attention, felt cared about by Emmaline, flattered by this sinister yet handsome guy with the over-the-top Romeo vibe. Urgh.
“Emmaline will let you know the time and place,” the Master said.
He stood, and she realized she was being dismissed, which was, frankly, a relief. She hoped the camera in her pendant would get a clear view of him.
He took her hand to his mouth, turned it and lay a kiss right on the inside of her wrist, then took a deep breath, as if inhaling her scent.
“Ah, beautiful inside and out,” he husked.
She wanted to whip her arm away, but she managed a coy little laugh, as if delighted by his attention, and fought the urge to rub the feel of his lips off her skin. Was that a fang she detected? She blinked and it was gone, his features suddenly hard and unsmiling, his eyes like shards of black ice.
A shiver ran down Clare’s spine, chilling her to the marrow of her bones.
“Goodbye, Anna. We will meet again very soon,” he murmured. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
CHAPTER 18
