Page 29 of The Devil She Knows
It should’ve disgusted her; itdiddisgust her. It was depraved, it was wrong, her thighs clenched, and her stomach tensed, and—oh, Sam was going to needsomuch therapy after this.
“I swear, if you don’t let me go right this instant, I’ll—”
“Make another threat you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of making good on?” Daphne laughed and the sound sent a shiver up Sam’s spine. “Go on—dazzle me.”
Daphne nipped at her ear with teeth too sharp to be human, then stepped back, letting Sam go.
She shoved away from the wall. “I loathe you.”
Daphne’s bottom lip jutted out. “I’m sensing a lot of hostility from you, Sam.”
“You think?”
“I don’t understand what has your panties in such a twist. You got what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” Sam cried. “What could possibly make you thinkthatwas what I wanted?”
“You wanted to be rich enough to give your dream girl her house in the Hamptons.” Daphne shrugged a shoulder. “Were you not wealthy?”
Well, yes, but—“I assumed I would wake up to find my bank balance had a few extra zeroes on the end of it.”
“And you know what they say about assuming.” Daphne threw herself down on the chaise with a sigh. “Look, if you aren’t happy, maybe you ought to think about what it is you really want.” She rolled onto her side and propped her head on her hand. “Do a little … soul-searching, perhaps?”
Sam glared flatly. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Did what? Follow your request to the letter? Sure did.”
The letter, maybe, but certainly not the spirit. “No, you messed with my wish so I’d have to make another one. That’s what you did.”
“Maybe I took afewcreative liberties with the execution, but—”
“Creative liberties?” Sam scoffed. “You made me a criminal.”
“No, I made you a crimelord, sweetheart. Big difference.”
“Yeah! Huge difference! Misdemeanor-petty-theft versus felony-grand-larceny huge! I was looking at twenty-five years in federal prison.Twenty-five.And!” Sam thrust a finger in her face. “I wasn’t even competent. You made me an incompetent crime lord! I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I didn’t even know what was happening! Everyone thought I was drunk! Or on shrooms, apparently.”
Daphne batted her hand aside. “You didn’t wish for competence.”
“Well, excuse me for not knowing I needed to!” Sam fumed. “This is—this isbullshit, is what it is. This isnotwhat I agreed to.”
“It’sexactlywhat you agreed to.” Daphne threw her legs over the edge of the chaise and rose to her feet. “Did you think you could outwit me? I mean, comeon. Do youreallythink you’re the first person who thought they could make one wish and skip off into the sunset with their soul?” She tutted. “Nice try, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
Sam flushed. Maybe not thefirstperson … “You told me you couldn’t care less about my soul. That you weren’t even the one who wanted it.”
Daphne jabbed a finger into Sam’s chest. “Let’s get something straight here, buttercup. I’m not your benevolent fairy godmother. News flash? I’m evil. Whatever my reasons, I’mnot granting wishes out of the goodness of my heart.” She held up her hands. “But, look, if you believe I’ve violated our agreement in any way, you’re welcome to file an injunction with our injustice department.”
“Injustice department?”
“Sure. You want their phone number?” With a flick of her wrist, a business card appeared between her index and middle fingers. “Here you go.”
It read666-GET-BENT.
Sam threw the card on the floor with a growl. “You are a real piece of work, you know that?”
“You say the sweetest things,” Daphne simpered, and Sam had to take several deep breaths to keep from lunging at her.
“So, what? I’m just supposed to keep making my wishes and you’re gonna keep corrupting ’em until I run out?”
