Chapter 7: This woman is trouble

**Evan**

I’m in the enormous line at the Entrance, feeling impatient. This has been an extraordinarily hectic day. I don’t know what happened, and I really don’t care. I’m sure whatever it was left the Devil nervous. More souls to turn into demons to send out to cause chaos in the world. Speaking of chaos... my stomach knots just thinking about seeing Axelle again. I knew exactly who she was when I was assigned to her table.

Everyone knows who she is. She is well-known in Hell, not only for her long stint on Earth as the best Seductress the Devil ever made but also for being the only woman who escaped, not once but twice. She is a legend. Not that I would ever say that to her. She’s a first-class bitch. I mean, I knew she would be in a bad mood, but man, that doesn’t even begin to cover it.

The line starts to get shorter, and I can hear her lamenting over each Reaper before me. It makes me smile despite myself. I have to admit I’m looking forward to seeing her again, even if it means being insulted and cursed at. I want to gaze into those beautiful blue eyes and admire that lovely bust as she leans too far to show off her cleavage. I know it’s ingrained in her to try to seduce every man she meets. Isn’t it easier to know she’s doing this with all the other Reapers?

I shake my head at my irrational jealousy. I have no reason to be jealous, and if she knew, she’d use it to ridicule me and have fun at my expense. It must be killing her. That thought pleases me and makes me wish I could save her from her situation.

“For God’s sake,” I murmur to myself, earning a confused look from my soul.

Finally, it’s my turn, and I start to sweat. I want to smile at her and flirt with her, but I’m completely useless in that department. I stand here isolated because I truly don’t belong, and everyone knows it. So, socializing isn’t something I do often. I’m not invited to the debauched parties that some demon or another throws day in and day out, and I don’t ask to go.

I desperately want to invite Axelle out, but I’m not sure I can handle the rejection. All I can do is stand here like an idiot and drool over her while she insults me, then go home and dream of her body writhing on top of mine. I groan as that thought leaves me hard. I may not socialize often, but I’m not that difficult when it comes to female company. There’s always a series of women eager to give up their goods. It’s not ideal, but a solitary Reaper doesn’t have much choice in the matter.

I hear her asking the Reaper in front of me what happened. If he knows, he’s not saying. He probably doesn’t know anyway, like me. We’re just here to collect the souls that have already passed away and bring them here to the Entrance. It’s not in the job description to ask questions.

I take a deep breath, hoping this meeting will be a bit better than the last, although I doubt it. This woman is trouble, and if there’s one thing that irritates me, it’s trouble.

**Nerina**

After the tenth soul had been sent off to their assignments, all with their proper temperaments begrudgingly recorded, I ask the next Reaper what’s going on.

“Was there, like, a train accident or something?” I ask sarcastically.

“Something like that.” Comes the threatening response from the depths of the black hooded cloak.

Okay, fair enough.

Note to self: Reapers are not big talkers. Except when they’re being idiots.

“Speaking of idiots,” I say slowly as I open the door again and find myself staring at Evan again. He grimaces at me, so I grimace back.

Reap what you sow, idiot.

I chuckle to myself at my own pun, which raises his scowl to about a twelve on the scowl meter.

“Can you hurry up? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes to schedule this,” he says, irritated.

“Wow, sorry.” I respond brusquely. “It’s a bit busy today, if you haven’t noticed.”

“No kidding.” He replies. “I’m fulfilling my quota for the week today. Well, I would be if you’d hurry up.”

“Attitudes like that are only going to make me slow down,” I say and deliberately pick up my stamp in slow motion.

Evan growls at me, but I take my time to carefully roll up the scroll and send it off.

“If you don’t like how I work, go find another Entry Administrator,” I say, crossing my arms.

“I’m assigned to this desk. You’re my Entry Administrator. So you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He growls and walks away with the grumpy soul. He seriously needs to lighten up.

I stick my tongue out where he was a moment ago and close the door. If only I could get rid of him.

Though his aggressive attitude is kind of sexy. It’s not my usual type, as I prefer my men weak and submissive, but right now I wouldn’t turn down a fling in bed with a man burning with passion. And he’s cute, kind of college-boy cute. Not sensually, ardently handsome like Luc, of course, but hot in the same way.

After two more hours of uninterrupted booking, I take a break and find a coffee machine in the next “office.”

I’ve seen Evan two more times, and both times he’s been equally unpleasant to me. I wonder what I did to bite him in the ass? I must admit, though, he’s the only one of them who talked to me. Although ‘talked’ is probably a bit generous for that. He growled at me more like he was trying too hard to be mean.

Despite that, I wish he’d show up again just to have someone to talk to.

I have to admit to a secret part of myself that I’m really enjoying our banter and really like seeing his cheeks flush when I annoy him. Not for the first time today, I wonder if he’d let me tie him up and whip him...

That wicked thought is interrupted by the light, and abandoning the coffee, I go back to work until five o'clock when I leave and head home.

As I leave my office, I wonder what happens after I leave. Is there a night shift? Or are souls only harvested from nine to five? The purgatory should serve a purpose, right? Maybe a safe place to keep souls until they’re collected? It’s a theory.

As I ride the escalator that leads to apartment block D, I decide that I really don’t care. I need to find a way to get out of the Entry and soon. It’s just another prison where I’ve been shoved, and I can’t decide which is worse.