30.
Harmony stood tapping her foot to an unheard beat as the tension snaked its way through her body. Her fingers clenched and released, her arms folded and refolded and her head tilted to one side and then the other. A look of vacant disgust eventually solidified on her delicate features as the inevitable conclusion arrived. “So…you were all just…like…humoring me?”
“Females are highly desirable,” the Archduke dabbed his nose with an intricate lace handkerchief, “but not in business.” He knew he should have brought his entourage but acquiesced in lieu of Hamilton’s insistence on secrecy. An entourage always came in handy when the need to deflect personal confrontations arose.
“You’re shutting me out just ’cause I’m…a girl?” Harmony’s mouth hung open in genuine shock. Saying it out loud only compounded her confusion. No matter how she put the pieces together, it still did not compute. She was a tireless cheerleader for demons of every ilk and this is how she was to be repaid? Male demons were the stinkiest chauvinists going. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“McWord!” Dawn added her girl power two cents.
“Have you even looked at a calendar lately?” Harmony seethed. “It’s, like, the twenty-first century and everything. Girls can do anything. Even pee standing up!”
“Huh?” Dawn looked skeptical but didn’t want to thwart Harmony’s thundering momentum.
The male audience also looked slightly bewildered at Harmony’s odd tangent.
She narrowed her eyes with fierce intensity. “Uh-h-u-h. It’s a new invention thingy, invented by a woman–obviously! I saw it in a magazine, right Fred?”
“Right, Harmony!” Fred answered automatically.
“Ew.” Once again Dawn retreated behind Buffy.
“See?” Harmony folded her mouth into a satisfied bow. “Girls rock! You should have looked closer at my name plate. It says C-E-O right there in the gold lettering. And I happen to be the best CEO Wolfram and Hart has had since Holland Manners.”
“Yes…Holland Manners.” Hamilton finally interjected. “His illustrious tenure made the Senior Partners reassess their approach. The truth is that the Los Angeles branch of the company can essentially run itself. The CEO has no real power. You, my sweet, were simply a convenient and marketable photo op and if I may add, a publicist’s dream come true.”
“But Marcus…all those things you whispered in my ear when we were dancing and stuff.”
“No one here is criticizing your skills on the dance floor…or the desk top.” Hamilton obviously had another opinion about who was the chamois and who was the chamee.
“That’s what’s going to halt my meteoric, corporate career? Kicked out of the game because I don’t have a wiener?” Harmony couldn’t get past the stunning ridiculousness of such an old fashioned barrier.
“I knew she’d take it badly.” Sebassis sighed and reached for more snuff. “Females are altogether too emotional.”
“I find her exuberance exhilarating!” Cyvus Vail’s squished voice croaked with redoubled passion. “All right, second concubine!”
“Ew. Yuck! Get with the program. I am a corporate phenomenon! I made the cover of ‘Corporate Phenomenon’ magazine. Yeah, that’s right, the cover! They said I was spunky and surprising. And a breath of fresh air. Me, Harmony Kendall!”
“Sorry, babe, that was a puff piece.” Hamilton’s voice spread out with the creamy smoothness of cake frosting. “Wolfram and Hart owns the media empire that publishes that magazine.”
“Puff…piece?” Harmony had the same dazed look on her face that she had back in math class in high school. Equations, like rat faced, sex bomb exes, were a bitch.
“Psst…’Daemons and Demagoguery’.” Buffy hissed a supportive whisper. She’d seen the magazine in the employee locker room.
“Oh yeah, right. What about ‘Daemons and Demagoguery’? I was on the hot stuff page!” Harmony could not boast an unflappable calm. She was in full flap, no question.
“We do like to showcase our shining stars.” Hamilton winked at her.
“Stand strong, Harmony, don’t let them rile you.” Fred added her voice of support. As a woman who had suffered under the arrogant capriciousness of the man who sent her to Pylea, Fred wasn’t about to stand idly by and witness Harmony squirm.
“I negotiated in good faith,” Harmony attempted a snarl but only accomplished a desperate squeak. “And I vibed with both of you! I know I did.”
The dream of demon hands and other utilitarian appendages joined from subterranean lair to subterranean lair nation wide started to slip away. “There were going to be franchises, too,” she mumbled. “And shoes!” Couldn’t these idiots recognize excellence when it stood fuming right in front of them? “It was going to be a whole thing!”
“Is she not marvelous?” Vail bristled with what could only be described as fiendish intensity.
Harmony had enough of being looked at like she was a holiday ham smothered with honey glaze and spread out on a platter. She wasn’t just a hot demon with a killer body and a fabulous wardrobe. She had ideas. Big ideas. Visionary ideas.
“Back off, Scab Boy!” she warned. At last Harmony found her growl. “I’m not just another breathtakingly beautiful face. Hello? Vampire. We wrote the book on bad. I can be just as evil as you guys. Eviler even!”
A snort replete with alfalfa residue emerged from the Archduke’s impatient nostrils. “I am a businessman,” Sebassis crinkled his nose with displeasure at having to explain the incredibly obvious. Witnessing Harmony’s unflattering emotional outbursts was an ordeal he could have done without. “It’s nothing personal, my dear. Hamilton’s plan makes more business sense than yours. It’s as simple as that.”
“Okay, smarty-pants,” Harmony poised her pearly pink lips for intellectual combat. “Where’s the profit in destroying an entire city?”
“Oh yeah! She’s got you there!” Dawn could not contain her enthusiasm.
“Shh!” Buffy admonished Dawn. “Harmony’s thinking.”
Sebassis bared his yellowing teeth in a chilly grimace. “You’ve been associating with humans far too long, Miss Kendall. Planetary domination is the way of the future but you obviously haven’t the business savvy to see the writing on the wall.”
The petulant gasp that followed echoed in the cavernous space.
Was that true? Could Harmony be seduced by the tempting prospect of world domination? For a moment Fred and Buffy couldn’t predict what was going to happen. Dawn’s resolve, however, never faltered. She did not lose faith. Harmony wasn’t some cardboard cut out pop diva who lip-synched over heavily engineered squawks and grunts while professing her individuality. No way. Harmony was special. The real deal. She’d never sell out her fans.
Thinking clearly while under duress wasn’t one of Harmony’s consistent skills. She struggled to calm the muscular tick spasming in her right eyelid that Sebassis’ insult prompted. This was a career defining moment, of that she was certain. This was the moment that separated the corporate visionaries from the wannabes and Harmony desperately wanted to end up on the visionary side of things.
Her first thought was WWHMD: “What would Holland Manners do?” Clearly, Holland Manners would go the world domination route. The guy had crazy-assed cheek in spades but tended to get too arrogant and overextend himself and his resources. In the end he was nothing but a big bag of elegantly dressed egomania just waiting for some hungry vamp to dive into his soft, creamy center. The deflated specter of Holland Manners was a cautionary tale of excess and ego.
Lilah Morgan was a big flash and then the inevitable fizzle. Word was that she couldn’t handle the big chair nor the responsibilities that came with it. Pamphlets really weren’t her thing either. Pervasive paranoia and personal issues impeded any attempt she may have made to achieve a workable, synergistic substructure.
Suddenly, the truth glistened like diamonds in Fyarl scat. Both of her predecessors were failures; duplicitous, self-serving, power mad failures totally lacking that essential creative spark. Why then did they loom so large in Harmony’s esteem? It was time to cut the cord. Harmony was her own vampire and she could make decisions on her own merit. It was time to rewrite those pamphlets or go down in a blaze of sequined glory.
Good or Evil. That was the biggy.
Evil tended to cut an obscenely profitable swath through most obstacles, but Harmony knew that Good wasn’t exactly a big old money pit. Why did it always have to be one or the other in the first place? Perhaps seeking one absolute wasn’t the answer. Maybe it was more about balance; not winning or losing, but balance. This was the fundamental truth that slipped through Holland Manners’ exclusive Swiss extract, exfoliated finger tips. Good or Evil. Black or white. Why couldn’t it be Good and Evil. Black and white? That made much more sense. Things flowed easily when there wasn’t so many sharp turns.
Harmony was definitely on to something. The flow. Getting into the groove. Emptying one’s head and being one with the emptiness. Yeah, that was it. Being one with the emptiness.
Sometimes genius rears up and humps your ankle like a toy poodle on steroids.
Truthfully, what demon hadn’t entertained fantasies of planetary domination? Harmony wasn’t above a little fantasizing but she’d gained some perspective since her fledgling days. It was like envisioning her fantasy pair of crystal unicorn Manolos; something to dream about on a lazy afternoon, an unattainable ideal of theoretical perfection. Besides, Harmony knew a few things about ambition and anything involving planetary domination was bound to turn into The Marcus Hamilton Show, starring Marcus Hamilton.
Archduke Sebassis and Cyvus Vail were nasty little vipers who were kidding themselves if they thought Hamilton was really going to let them dominate anything. Harmony had been there and tried that. Foreplay was one thing but when it came down to the deed, Hamilton had to be on top. He was peculiarly insistent on that detail. If her tenure as CEO had taught Harmony anything, it was that real power came not from imposing one’s will but from within.
If there was one thing Harmony could recognize at twenty paces, it was a kick-ass inspirational blurb. She could envision the pamphlet font already, something swirly, and easily readable; something that would inspire. The last time Harmony bristled with this much executive fever she was choosing carpet samples.
“Monopolies are for losers, Sebassis,” Harmony spoke the first insult she could think of and made herself believe it. “No wonder you think it’s such a great idea.” She narrowed her gaze and stabbed him with her best mean girl glare. “Diversity is hot.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Buffy clenched her fists, ready for action. “What do you say we start busting some heads?”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Fred stood shoulder to shoulder with her friends ready to do some damage. Patriarchy needed a sound ass kicking and she was wearing her stomping boots.
“Harmony is so going to kick your butts!” Dawn finally declared.
“Oh, this is so cool!” Harmony giggled, momentarily breaking her don’t-mess-with-me deadly glare to share her enthusiasm with the girls. “It’s just like ‘Charlie’s Angels’, but I get to be Charlize Theron.”
“I don’t think she was in that movie, Harmony,” Buffy aimed a sideways whisper at Harmony.
“And there’s four of us,” Dawn tried to be helpful.
“Whatever. Doesn’t matter. This is a girl power moment! Saddle up, sister friends. Let’s whup these prehistoric jerks.”
“I beg your pardon.” Archduke Sebassis was a little sluggish in recognizing an imminent confrontation. “Are you suggesting fisticuffs of some nature?”
“You heard her. Prepare yourself for a smackdown!” Buffy assumed a fighting stance.
“You astound me, Miss Kendall. Your distasteful attitude and unfortunate choice of associate proves my foresight in eliminating you from my business ventures. How could I have expected more from such a vexatious subspecies?” Sebassis wished he had stayed home for a relaxing evening of horn polishing.
“These females are equally entrancing!” Cyvus Vail made no attempt to hide his salivating response. “I will have them all for my harem!”
*
Andrew opened his eyes and discovered he was lying on hard pavement. He stared into the hazy night sky strewn with the milky glow of city lights and marveled at his fate. Once again he had survived the odds of confronting a flood of bloodthirsty mercenaries; a man of destiny compelled by duty to confront the evil that men do; a hero bruised but unbroken, born to stare down the face of evil and live to tell the tale.
Andrew paused his internal revisions when he noticed his clear and untroubled respiration. Unmistakable deep inhalations and uneventful exhalations punctuated the quiet night. The extra strength decongestant he picked up in Vegas had done a remarkable job of keeping the dust issues at bay during the crisis but he knew he owed his survival to more than a rigorously advertised pharmaceutical. His once shaky faith had to be what brought him thus far unscathed.
“Thank you, George Lucas,” Andrew whispered with weighted emotional resonance and a non-allergy related sniffle. “I’ll never doubt you again.”
He struggled to his feet and found himself alone in an empty parking lot littered with a couple dozen demon corpses. Caught up as he was in the excitement of the ambush, the strength and numbers of the enemy seemed insurmountable. At this distance, he realized his initial perception was incorrect.
A strange feeling of foreboding seasoned the outrageous headache that strangled his thinking. “Um, guys?” There was no reply. A dry lump of apprehension filled his throat and would not be swallowed away. If there was one thing Andrew knew for certain it was that an apocalypse was no time to be alone and disoriented in a parking lot full of dead bad guys. The open warehouse door yawned before him in absent invitation. Somewhere nearby heroes gathered and that’s where Andrew needed to be.