Demon Marked

school? And how the hell did she know that ?
    “You remember the school’s goddamn ranking?”
    She didn’t seem to feel the blast of his anger. “Some facts are easy to recall. Other things are familiar, but I don’t realize they are until I think about them . . . and now I’m finding out that Rachel was familiar with them, too.”
    “You’re not Rachel.”
    “I know. Oh—and this one is familiar. ‘Friends in Low Places.’” Her gaze flicked to the radio. Unable to hear the music over the wipers and the static, Nicholas took her word for it. “I only mentioned Kellogg’s rankings because it meant that Rachel had to be good enough to qualify for the graduate program. Was she?”
    More than good enough. She’d had a killer instinct for the market, choosing when and where to invest. At the beginning of her senior year of high school, her parents had given her a gift of five hundred dollars. Four years later, Rachel had paid off their new mortgage with it, and, after local papers had run with the story, gained the attention of several financial schools—and Madelyn’s interest.
    “She was good,” he only said.
    The demon glanced at him, as if trying to gauge his expression. “Do you mean that, or are you damning her with faint praise?”
    He sure as hell wasn’t going to damn Rachel with anything. “She was brilliant.”
    “Coming from Stone Cold St. Croix, that’s a powerful endorsement.”
    Stone Cold St. Croix. He’d earned that name buying up businesses, tearing them apart, and selling the pieces—all so that he could eventually get to Madelyn. No one would have used the nickname outside of financial circles, however. She wouldn’t have found it in a news article.
    “Is that nickname a fact you conveniently remember, too?”
    “No. I found it on an old blog entry through Google about a week ago. I also took a look at Reticle. It’s been faltering without you at the head. It’s not nearly as strong as it was six years ago.”
    Not true. His company’s profits weren’t increasing as quickly as they once had been, but he’d left Reticle in capable hands that were guiding it along in a steady climb. And as far as Nicholas was concerned, if he had money to pursue his revenge, it was strong enough. “You read that, too? ‘Not nearly as strong’?”
    “I didn’t need to read it. I saw the numbers. They were easy to interpret.”
    She glanced over again—but not at him. After checking the lane, she eased into the exit. Her gaze never touched his face, as if his reaction to her declaration didn’t matter.
    But this was exactly what a demon did. Sow doubts. Quietly undermine. Perhaps plant the seeds that would lead him to abandon revenge and return to business. Not a fucking chance. He enjoyed working, but that didn’t matter. His business enabled his revenge. Until he destroyed Madelyn, he had no use for his company except the money it provided him.
    She didn’t wait for him to say so. “If Rachel was that good, why was she only Madelyn’s personal assistant?”
    Because Madelyn had tricked her, too. “Maybe because she traveled often and made a six-figure salary.”
    “That’s nothing compared to what she could have made on Wall Street.”
    “Few on Wall Street make as much as Madelyn’s protégée eventually would.”
    “She was being groomed as Madelyn’s replacement?”
    “That’s what she let Rachel think.” Hell, that was what Nicholas had believed, too. Now, he thought differently. “But I’d bet it was the opposite: Madelyn intended to take Rachel’s place.”
    “By shape-shifting and pretending to be her? Why?”
    “Someone would eventually notice that Madelyn didn’t look her age—and she’s too vain to appear as old as she should. But Rachel was gorgeous, young.”
    As his mother had once been. How many women’s lives had Madelyn stolen in the same way? Waiting for her opportunity, then stepping into their shoes.
    “You obviously thought the same,” the demon said. “Rachel was gorgeous, young—and so you got close to her. To find out Madelyn’s secrets, or just to steal her protégée away?”
    He hadn’t needed Rachel to know how to destroy Wells-Down, but luring her away from Madelyn would have been a bonus. Rachel had been loyal, however.
    “Maybe I intended to do both,” he lied easily.
    “But you fell in love with her, instead.”
    This lie twisted like a knife in his gut. “Yes.”
    “I don’t think so.” The SUV skidded at the