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"Yes sir," Emerson said, barely keeping his amusement in check. He pulled away from the curb, and Parrish sat there with her arms crossed, at least glad that it was warm inside the car. What had she gotten herself into? She was looking out the window as William spoke to her, and she rolled...

Emerson looked unmoved by Williams words, shrugging his shoulders, "It was merely a suggestion. She's human. And an irritating one at that." He rolled up the window and went back to sitting there in the car, phone in hand once again. Fear would have been foolish, and he also knew that...

"I don't have the right," she said, her tone deadpan. "Oh no, I have no right to know what the hell you're forcing me into." Before she could go much further, William was in front of her, and Parrish had to stop short so that she would not run into him. She instantly took a couple of steps...

"Maybe I just hold myself to a higher standard than you. I can't imagine it's hard to raise the bar from where you're holding it," she said with a withering glare. Parrish lifted her chin a little higher, not willing to tell him that she knew all about his world, and that she had chosen to...

Parrish glared at him as he nudged her shoulder, coat in hand. She snatched it from him rudely and pulled it on, the jacket much too large for her, but at least it gave her another layer between the cold world and her bare arms. She rolled the sleeves up, hoping it would bother him to crease...

"I would rather be lost in the city than riding in an enclosed vehicle with someone who doesn't know how to respect personal boundaries," she snapped immediately. Parrish continued to walk, her arms wrapped around herself considering it was chilly in the night air and she had been absconded...

William stepped toward her and she skittered backward a few steps to keep herself out of arm's reach. Parrish was not going to show him all her tricks in one night, it would keep him guessing, but she did not want him close enough to touch her again. Her eyes looked around, and she saw her...

When he was finished, Parrish slowly came back to herself. Her breath picked up, and her hand darted out, into his jacket, stealing the knife that he had put away earlier. She flicked it open with her thumb and sliced through the last zip tie, so that she could get off the stool and back out...

William's hand came to her cheek, and she expected the cruelty after the caress. Whatever he was, his skin was unnaturally cool, and it was disturbing. Rather like touching a corpse, if one was in the position to do such a thing. Parrish hated being struck, there was so much more to it than...

Parrish wrapped her arms around herself, looking away, "Just get it over with. I would like to go home. And I don't want anything from you but my shoes and an Uber." She still had time to go home and get some rest, she could feel that it was still night instead of early morning. There was a...

"Another lie," Parrish said, looking boldly in his eyes, not closing her own. "All of this is unpleasant, but whatever you have planned, I won't like it." It was a matter of fact statement, not a question or even musing. She knew that nothing was going to be pleasant about working for him...

"I want a contract, a legal one, because I won't be trapped any longer than I have to be," Parrish replied, having let her voice settle into a nice, deep chill. "This isn't going to be some situation where I just work for you as long as you feel like it. It'll be a business deal, and nothing...

"Where do you get your inspiration?" Faye Kincaid sat in the uncomfortable chair, feeling the hard cushion pushing at her legs from beneath her thighs, poking through her gauzy white skirt that reached her ankles as if the cushion was actually made to be unpleasant to sit on. Or perhaps her...

Parrish wanted to tell him that there was nobody else. She would have loved to have said she did not care if Gale ended up dead. The unfortunate truth was that she indeed cared about Gale, and knew there was one other person that could possibly end up on their list. The sickening weight of...

"I'm not available," Parrish responded, not at all liking his suggestion that she could belong to him, like a thing instead of a person. She rolled her eyes as he picked up his phone and sighed, "Oh my god, not even important enough to threaten if your phone buzzes. This is what's wrong with...

"I don't want assistance. That just leaves me open to get screwed over. I don't know what you think I'm going to be able to do for you," Parrish replied, feeling the tingle of power rising in the room. He was something else, all right. Undoubtedly, Fionna would have been able to identify him...

"Well I can't work for you," she said firmly. "I have a job, and a business to run. I have people who rely on me, and I'm not willing to give that up because you think I owe you something. It's more important than filthy lucre." One of those cold fingers lid up beside her temple and hooked...

"Yeah, well I can't dance, I can't sing, I can barely do my own taxes, and I don't cook. I also have vagina dentada so I doubt that I have any skills that you would find useful. I make shampoos and soaps. That's all I do." The sound of the knife bothered her, and she frowned, sighing...

He grabbed her chin, and his fingers were firm when she tried to pull away, his fingers unnaturally cold. Parrish tilted her head a bit, and grabbed a hold of the flesh between his thumb and forefinger, biting down on the web of skin there, not hard enough to draw blood, but definitely hard...

Emerson had been thorough with his investigation of Gale Fairfax. The man had come to them through a recommendation that was actually nothing more than something Fairfax had made up. He had done a good job about keeping his personal life secret, though there was nothing that could stay secret...