Sitting on the couch cross-legged Solene was trying to work out how she was going to keep affording her apartment now that she was here. The first payments had been easy, the money pressed into her hand in Paris by the saint who kissed her and agreed that, yes, distance would help her even though he would miss her.
But that money wasn't going to last here. Living in New York turned out to be even more expensive than living in Paris, something she hadn't considered possible before now.
And there were other costs, it seemed.
One moment she was alone in her apartment and the next He was there. Solene swore loudly in French and jumped up from the couch, staring wide-eyed at the Devil in her living room.