Black Dog by Caitlin Kittredge

Leo and I made it out of Vegas, because here she was, tapping one foot on the tile and staring at me like I was supposed to do a trick.
    â€œSorry to just drop in on you like this,” she said. “But I think you and I have something to discuss.”
    I pushed the shower curtain off me and tried to lever myself up, managing to sit on the edge of the tub. My fingers chipped divots out of the cheap fiberglass when I gripped it to hide my shaking.
    â€œGary was going to kill me,” I said. I was whispering, but it still sounded unholy loud in the tiny bathroom.
    â€œAva, you’re going to learn very quickly I don’t like excuses,” Lilith said. She stood, patting her hair in the cloudy mirror that still assured the entire world she was gorgeous. She was tall too, and had a round, angelic face and an adorably upturned nose. Her hair was swept back into a smooth bun, blond and glowing like somebody had cut her out of a magazine. Too perfect to be human, though I doubted anyone besides me would pick up on that before she ripped them apart.
    â€œNot an excuse,” I said. “If you want me to be sorry, I don’t think I can do it right now.”
    â€œI also hate apologies,” Lilith said. “They’re weak. As for Gary, do you really think I’m happy that my employee let his own hellhound ventilate him?”
    I stayed quiet, which made her turn back to me, white teeth bared. “Here’s a hint: I’m not fucking happy.”
    â€œPlease kill me,” I blurted. “Please just do it here. Don’t take me to the Pit.” I was managing not to cry as I begged, so I only hated myself a little instead of to the core.
    Lilith narrowed her eyes, and then she grabbed me and lifted me up so my head cracked the tiles when it hit. “I really hope that you’re less of a pathetic whining waste of air than you come across,” she said, “because if you don’t get it together and do as I say, I will fuck up your day.”
    â€œOkay,” I squeaked. I still wasn’t sure why I wasn’t already dead, but sometimes you just have to accept that the wolf isn’t hungry and walk away.
    Lilith dropped me and brushed off her skirt. She was wearing powder blue with a white blouse and pearls. Fucking pearls. I had the insane urge to laugh, but I turned it into choking instead.
    â€œYou do realize that a human warlock in possession of a Scythe is the worst thing that could possibly happen,” she said. “Just be glad it wasn’t your friend out there, because I’d rip him a new asshole where his balls used to be.”
    I started to talk, but she held up a finger. “I will handle Sergei Karpov. And you are going to get your ass back to work.” She tossed a leather-­bound notebook at my feet, and I realized with a start it was Gary’s ledger.
    â€œGary’s last outstanding collection is in Wyoming,” she said. “He’s been tracking him since the early seventies at least. I wasn’t too happy that Gary never managed to collect from the prick, but now, if you want a chance in any realm of keeping flesh on that skinny ass of yours, you’ll get him, reap him, and bring him to me.”
    She pointed to a name amid dozens of others. I wondered how many of those names I’d been responsible for. Gary’s obsessive-­compulsive handwriting spelled out Clint Hicks. I risked making eye contact with Lilith, which was like staring at a well-­dressed bird of prey. “What’s his deal?”
    â€œI don’t micromanage my employees,” she snapped. “I don’t know why meat sacks choose to sell any more than I know why Gary decided you were worth making part of his hound pack. Which is probably a good thing, because I would have told him to let you rot.”
    â€œI’ve been getting that a lot,” I muttered.
    â€œThe last hound Gary sent got sent back on a