I eased the baby out of the box, and aware she needed to have her head supported, I cradled her in my arms, cooing at her in case she woke.
She did, and she stared at me with dark eyes. She inhaled, and I braced for her screaming, but she cooed back at me instead.
I stroked her hair, startled at how soft and thick it was. “There’s a good little girl. Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”
I hated I’d have to let her go, hated the lies I knew I told, and wondered how much trouble I’d get into if I just ran with her. I understood the basics.
The reality of my situation squished any hope of keeping her. With an entire mafia out for my brother’s blood, my need to deal with the Devil, and everything else life insisted on throwing at me, I wouldn’t be able to guarantee her next meal or clean diapers.
That wasn’t fair to her.
Damn it.
I didn’t even like babies. Babies weren’t cute—except she was, with her big dark eyes, her chubby little cheeks, and her whisper-soft coo and pudgy, reaching hands. She kicked at the blanket, wiggling in my arms.
With my free hand, I offered her my fingers as a toy. With surprising strength, she grabbed hold onto my fur, brought my palm to her face, and rubbed.
Why couldn’t I take her home with me? Disgusted with everything about the situation, I forced a smile, pretended I didn’t want to cry, and kissed her forehead. “It’ll be okay, little baby.”
One day.
Maybe I’d make a second deal with the Devil, going behind the archangel’s back and making certain someone took care of her later in life. Maybe I could make the Devil go deal with the assholes who’d abandoned her.
I could work with that. What was one extra demand added to my list? If I could get the Devil to do the impossible with my brother, how much more could he possibly charge me for a good deed destined to ruin his reputation if anyone found out about it?
Storming the gates of hell and taking over seemed like my best and only option, because the Devil wouldn’t do a bunch of nice things without a damned good reason. Ruling over the Devil’s hells would be annoying, but I didn’t have to keep the place for all that long. He could have it back once I was done with it.
Of course, I might need it long enough to make a very warm reception for any assholes who hurt the little girl I held. Ruling hell for a minimum of eighteen years would annoy me, but some sacrifices were worth making.
The Devil would just have to live with being my minion until I finished my work and claimed her all for myself. With the baby drinking up attention, I spared the few extra minutes for her to satisfy her desire to try to mark my hand as her territory. Rather than cry, for either food or a diaper change like I expected from an infant, she yawned, gave a final kick or two, and resumed her nap.
The anger and resentment over my lot in life roiled to the surface, but I refused to frighten the baby. As always, I bottled everything inside, settled my purse over my shoulder, and carried her into the headquarters armed with the letter an archangel had written to make sure she got to where she needed to go without incident.
The security guard took one look at the note, paled, and asked me to sit and wait until someone came for me.
Within five minutes, an older gentleman in a pristine black suit with a red tie strolled over. I appreciated his lack of a smile; it somehow seemed more honest to me.
“I’m Francis Lemon. I have read the letter written on your behalf, and I’ve called to verify its authenticity. I’ve prepared the basic documentation, and as you’re her current guardian, you will need to sign them. With an archangel vouching for the situation and determining she is at risk without United States citizenship, the government has opted to naturalize her despite her lack of American ancestry. You will need to verify under oath that you retrieved her from the vessel, she had no one with her, and all of her possessions.”
“Are we counting some diapers and formula as possessions?”
“No.”
“She doesn’t have anything, then.”
Mr. Lemon scowled. “While we are aware that the household she is intended for has blood ties, we would like to take a few precautions to ensure she does not become a victim. With an archangel expressing concern, we have cause. However, it requires some paperwork, and there are some fees for the handling of the situation.”
The fees would be a problem, but I had my brother’s annoying car, and I already planned to make the mafia he’d tangled with kiss my pretty spotted ass. “How much?”
“A hundred a year.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. It mostly consists of a legal requirement for an agent to verify the whereabouts of the child until the age of sixteen, at which point she will be considered old enough to handle most matters on her own. It will require any future guardians to meet with the agent, with her in attendance, to ensure she has not been unlawfully sold. The penalties for violating this are quite severe. Considering the circumstances, it would be wise.”
“I’ll pay that. Can I pay the entire amount in advance?”
“Yes, you can do that. The payment will be due in thirty days.”
I did the mental math. If I scraped together every penny I had from every account I had, I would have enough—barely. I’d be stuck on paying for anything else, but I could make the payment on time. “Okay. That’s good. Where will I need to pay?”
Mr. Lemon pulled out a slip of paper and offered it to me, and I discovered it was a printed invoice for the first year of the service, a list of what the government would do in exchange for payment, and a file number. “Call the number on this invoice, and they will direct you on how to make a payment. If you’re paying by check or cash, you can bring it to any CDC or FBI building. Either agency can handle the payments for this. You may also take your payment to any United States courthouse for processing. If you’ll follow me, we’ll handle the signing of the paperwork, issue her passport, and take care of everything else she needs to ensure her general protection.”
“May I ask a question?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Isn’t this a little excessive? I mean, I tried to get my passport once. It was not easy.”
“You don’t have your passport?”
I shook my head. “My original birth certificate isn’t readily available, and I was a minor at the time I requested it. Seventeen. They needed a parental signature.”
“Estranged?”
“Orphaned.”
“What’s one additional passport being processed tonight? We have the ability to pull up vital records as necessary, so we’ll take care of that upstairs. We have angelic verification of your identity, so you won’t need a parental signature or supporting documentation. There will be a small fee to process the passport, but as there’s an angel involved, you’ll get to skip the expedition fees.”
Huh. For the first time in my life, was I actually experiencing the reward of having done a good deed? If I ever crossed paths with Michael again, I’d have to ask him about that. Aware of the archangel’s claims about the baby’s treatment, I kissed her head and rocked her. “Can I ask a possibly strange question?”
“Of course.”
“Is it possible to pay for more frequent checks on her? I don’t know the household she’s going to, but I don’t trust them.” I hesitated, but as I toed lines anyway, I added, “Michael gave me reason to believe there will be problems. But I can’t keep her.”