Dancing With Fire - Chapter 3
#3 of Dancing With Fire Act 1 - The Kindling Ignites
"No," Loona murmured, "Oh no. No no fuck no. Fuck fuck shit!" her voice grew louder as her cursing intensified. She backed away from the desk and curled up in a ball against the wall. Her tail was tucked firmly between her legs.
"Lord Harper, I am so, so sorry!" she whimpered. "I didn't know it was you. I swear to Lucifer I didn't!"
Harper tucked his gloves into the pocket of his overcoat, then loomed over the desk. The stained, aging wood creaked in protest as a fraction of his weight rested upon it. His wings shuffled, then opened just enough to widen the shadow he cast over the frightened Hellhound. Despite the absence of light, the air within Harper's shadow grew hot.
"Tell me, Miss Loona," he rumbled, "Is that the way you normally treat people who call your office? What difference does not knowing who is calling make?"
Loona stammered frantically, but couldn't find the words. A choked sob of fear and regret escaped her as she curled up tighter.
Harper leaned further over the desk. Thin wisps of smoke curled around his fingers as the wood beneath them smoldered. But the dragon's face remained passive, and his voice low and even.
"I want you to promise me something," he said, "From now on, I want you to treat prospective clients with courtesy and basic manner. How you treat your colleagues is an internal matter for your supervisor to handle, but please do not speak to me or any other prospective client in the way you did this morning again. Understand?"
Loona sniffled and hiccuped, then braved lifting her head just enough to nod.
The dragon remained still and silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, his wings closed and his expression brightened. The oppressive heat that had enveloped the Hellhound was suddenly gone.
"Good!" said Harper. He then stepped back and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "Now be a dear and fetch your manager for me, please. I have much to discuss with him."
Before Loona could get off the floor, the door behind the front desk burst wide open. Out stormed Blitzø, who was in the process of fiddling with his belt.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on out here? It's really hard for me to mastur - I mean think, when there's all this fucking commotion." His attention was drawn by Loona sniffling as she got back into her seat at the desk. His eyes grew big and watery.
"Loonie? Baby, what happened?" His face went from alarm to anger. "Did somebody hurt you? Tell me who made you cry, Loonie, I'll rip his balls out through his fucking asshole!" His gaze turned to Drek, who was standing quietly at attention. "Was it you, Skinny? You look like a little bitch, I bet it was you!"
Not looking up, Loona shakily pointed over to Harper, who now stood at the aquarium inspecting Blitzø's pet eels.
"I'm beginning to understand your receptionist's behavior toward me over the phone," Harper said without turning around, "Given the way her role model talks about others."
Blitzø's slitted pupils shrank to pinpricks. "Oh fuck. Loonie, why is Lord Harper here? Did you piss him off? Oh God, oh Sweet Baby Ray's!"
Harper slowly turned around as Blitzø fell to his knees before him and groveled into the threadbare office carpet. "Please, great Overlord. Have mercy on my daughter! Whatever she did, I'll take full responsibility. I'll give you anything, just don't hurt her!!!"
"WHAT in the Seven Circles is going on out...here?" Moxxie stopped at the end of the hallway to see Blitzø prostrate before a colossal dragon demon. Millie poked her head around the corner behind him.
"Oh, crumbs. Uh, good afternoon Lord Harper!" he said, a strained smile on his face and sweat rapidly gathering on his brow. "How can we help you?"
Harper spared Moxxie the briefest of glances before speaking to the imp at his feet. "Mr. Blitzø, please get up off the floor. It's unbecoming of a businessman like yourself to grovel."
"Oh, um, I - WHOA!" Blitzø yelped as the dragon demon's tail coiled around his waist and effortlessly hauled him up onto his feet. It was the one part of Harper that departed from his otherwise draconic appearance. Instead of being scaly and stout, it was bony and segmented, almost like a skeletal rodent's tail.
Harper's tail released the imp, then curled around to dust off his lapels. Blitzø cringed as the tip got too close to his face for comfort. The tail ended in a long, curved, blade-like bone - the flat side of which was now patting against his collarbones and lightly grazing his neck.
"And another thing," continued the Overlord, "I would prefer that you refer to me as 'Mr. Harper,' or 'Sir.' 'Lord Harper' sounds too - what's the word? Unfriendly." His gaze drifted from Blitzø to Loona, to Moxxie and Millie."
"Uh, s-sure Lo - I mean, Mr. Harper," stammered Blitzø. "So, I'm guessing you're here because Loona was rude to you, and I'm awful sorry about that."
The imps recoiled in surprise when Harper chuckled. "Goodness, no. I had every intention of meeting with you regardless," he said, before he walked back to the center of the room. He glanced at the four of them in turn, then shut his eyes.
"If I had only come here because one of you had upset me..." he said as he opened his eyes. Their brilliant amber coloring had taken on the black and orange texture of molten lava. He held up one hand, and flames ignited on each of his talons. The temperature of the room began to climb rapidly, and his voice turned gravelly and several octaves deeper. "...I would have burned this entire building to the ground without saying a word."
Harper shut his hand and his eyes once more, and the room cooled immediately. He blinked, and just like that he was back to normal. "Pardon my bombast. It's not often I get to show off."
Blitzø looked over his shoulder to see Millie, Moxxie, and Loona all peeking cautiously around the corner of the hallway they ducked into. Swallowing hard, the imp pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the beads of sweat running down his face. "Sure, no problem!" he said with a brave face. "So, what can we do ya for?"
"Ah, now we're getting somewhere!" said Harper, as chipper as a man who hadn't just unsubtly threatened the entire room. "I wish to hire I.M.P.'s services. Come, let's go to your office. We can discuss the details there."
Blitzø balked, but only for a moment. On the one hand, this guy was scaring the crap out of him and his team, and had made his little Loonie cry. On the other hand, a freaking Overlord wanted to hire them for a hit, and last he checked, Overlords had a shitload of money.
Calculations floated through the imp's head. Half-remembered arithmetic slowly coalesced into equations.
If Harper = Money, then Harper + IMP = Money + IMP. If Money + IMP = Horse, then Harper + IMP = Horse.
"Right this way, Mr. Harper!" he exclaimed before confidently leading the way to his office. He ushered the massive dragon demon through the much too small door, then followed him inside.
Millie, Moxxie, and Loona all exchanged glances. "20 Souls* says Harper barbecues him alive," said Moxxie.
Blitzø reclined in his chair, his heels lazily propped on his desk. Best to treat this like any other appointment (just with fewer vulgar remarks). "Okay!" he said, "Who d'ya wanna off today?"
Harper had taken the seat on the opposite side of the desk. He reached into his coat and produced a manila envelope stuffed with documents and photographs.
"I wish to test your organization's capabilities," he rumbled as he turned the folder over to Blitzø for review. "It should be fairly simple. The timber firm that I owned when I was alive is still in existence today. Unfortunately, it is struggling against some unwanted competition. The folder contains dossiers for a crew of loggers up in Alaska. Those men are working for one of my firm's competitors, and they keep cutting trees from land where my firm has sole harvesting rights. Of course, the Alaskan wilderness is a dangerous place. It is all too easy for loggers who aren't careful to get lost, have workplace accidents, or even run into an ill-tempered bear. You know how that goes, right?"
Blitzø nodded with a smirk as he leafed through the contents of the folder. "Easy peasy lemon-squeezy, Mr. Harper. We'll make sure those tree-stealing whores don't come home again."
Harper chuckled softly. "There is a fine line between confidence and bravado, Mr. Blitzø. I will know which you possess once you've returned." The Overlord reached into his jacket once more and pulled out an obscenely fat wad of banknotes bound in a metal clip. Blitzø sat up straight and stared at the money like a cat staring at a dancer. Harper snorted as he waved the cash back and forth, and the imp's eyes followed wherever it went.
"I am paying you 50,000 Souls up front. Once you have returned to Hell and provided photographic, video, or - if you must - physical evidence of each man's death, you will receive an additional 200,000 Souls. I will give you three business days to fulfill your obligation."
"Done!" Blitzø almost shouted as he ripped open one of his desk drawers to pull out some paperwork. "I'll just get the contract filled out here, we can both sign it, and we'll be all set."
"Excellent," Harper said with a warm smile, "I look forward to seeing what your team can do."
Loona was back at her desk glumly browsing social media, and Millie and Moxxie were huddled together on the couch. Drek remained posted at the main door. All four jumped when Blitzø burst through the door of his office, a rolled up paper held triumphantly over his head.
"Great news, team!" he shouted far louder than necessary, "Say hello our newest I.M.P. client, the Builder Baron himself, Mr. Harper!"
Millie jumped off the couch and cheered. Drek settled back into parade rest, and Moxxie silently got up and trudged over to Loona's desk. He grumbled something incomprehensible as he dug into his pocket and handed a $20 note over to the Hellhound.
As Blitzø joined Millie in celebration, Harper's eyes never left the imp. He'd never taken his eyes off him since entering his office. The whole time the wheels in his head were turning, and he was sizing the imp up. Over almost two centuries of business, he learned to value the art of reading body language. Everyone had a tell, and Blitzø had dozens of them over the course of a single business negotiation.
He would find out soon enough whether Blitzø could live up to his bold claims. But one thing was for certain. Where business was concerned, this imp had no clue what he was doing.
*Souls: The official currency of Hell, as seen on the banknotes held up close in Episode 2: Loo Loo Land. It appears to employ the same symbol as the dollar.