My eyes were trained like laser beams on a ticking clock that was five minutes away from striking three, as I waited for my impending interview with Mrs Robbins. I felt nothing but impatience: too confident to feel nervous; too powerful to feel ambitious; and far too rich to feel desperate. But for the purpose of evil I needed to act interested, so I was here early, biding my time to show a false appreciation for a woman who could be a threat to everything.

I may have looked eager, but my mind was elsewhere: lost in the jungles of the sub-conscious like a stranded explorer, unable to clear the way ahead. I was anxious, anxious because my demonic half was strangely intent on something that he had never bothered with before: my dating life, and, more specifically, Carmen. 

I wasn't sure if it was quite possible, but it seemed like he'd developed a crush too. He had called her up last night to arrange another date, the timing of this particular meeting conveniently planned to include him and not me. And that was why I couldn't think clearly. There were so many possible outcomes that could occur from this date, and none of them looked very promising. I was pretty certain that he was going to mess it up and there was nothing I could do about it. 

But on the positive side, he had actually planned the date ahead very well, showing that maybe he could prove me wrong. They were going to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, where on Friday nights they hosted a live jazz evening. We'd talked about music on the beach and realised that we liked the same kind of genres and styles, so whatever I would enjoy, she would hopefully like it too. 

I knew that my demonic half wanted sex from her at the end of the night and even though I had similar thought patterns to him, I had restrained myself previously. But if he got lucky I wouldn't be complaining. After all, it meant more opportunities for me in the future. 

I continued to glance at the clock on the wall, getting impatient and, unbelievably, slightly nervous. I had memorised the false CV last night and it was definitely impressive. I just hoped she didn't have a bullshit detector because I would be absolutely screwed. 

Oh well. At least the receptionist seemed pleasant enough, if a bit dreary and detached from her job. Maybe she disliked Mrs Darcy Robbins as much as I did. But in any case, she wasn't the one carrying through the essential task of evaluating a threat to the entire demonic republic, and therefore she didn't need to be attentive. But I did. And yet I was still distracted. 

The room I would be conducting this task in was to my left, behind a rickety wooden door. Demons had enhanced senses and therefore I could hear pretty much every word spoken between Robbins and the nervous, stuttering man she was interviewing before me. If he was my competition, I knew I would be just fine. 

My suspicions were confirmed moments later when the door opened and a shaking young man in an ill-fitted suit quickly emerged from the room, his face ashen.

A woman closed appeared from behind him, an expression of exasperation firmly etched into her face like a carving of stone. She had short, blonde hair that fell down to her shoulders; a crooked nose that was too much on the larger side to be considered feminine; and sharp, discerning eyes of cobalt blue. 

She didn't spare me a glance as I watched her walk over to the receptionist. She had a short, motherly figure of a woman in her early fifties and walked with a certain kind of modesty that almost demanded a sort of admiration, if not respect, regardless of how well acquainted you were with the said individual. She chatted with the woman at the desk for a few moments, which did not cause the receptionist to lose her look of dispassion, unfortunately, and before long their conversation had stopped and she started to look around the room for me. 

So this was Mrs Darcy Robbins...I had expected her to look more evil, if not a little bit older. 

When her gaze finally met mine, she gave me a warm smile. I had to admit, there was something so intense about the way she stared at me. I felt like she could discern all, could see the things I had done in my life, could smell the lies that I held in my hand. 

But maybe that was just paranoia. Because as she made her way over to me and I stood up, towering above her like an oak tree, her smile never dropped, and her expression did not become judgemental or cold. Even her voice was nothing like the raspy, haunting cackle I had expected. In fact it completely suited the motherly atmosphere surrounding her, and suddenly I could understand why people were able to trust and confide in her as much as they did. "Hello, you must be Mr Axon? It's nice to meet you." 

She held out her hand and I shook it, trying not to apply too much pressure because of her frailty. I tried to reciprocate with my warmest smile as I let go of her hand. "Yep that's me. It's nice to meet you too, Mrs Robbins." 

"Thank you. Now if you would like to come in, we can get this interview started," she gestured towards the door and I obeyed her instruction, my nervousness increasing at the thought of lying to this woman. I didn't like how examining that motherly gaze seemed to be. 

I walked into a room that was almost identical to the one before, except it had proper, professional furniture this time with a nicely sized desk and two leather chairs for the both of us. 

She took the CV from me as I placed it down on the desk. "I know you've already sent this to me, but I'll just have a quick read through to refresh my memory." 

I smiled kindly at her. "Of course. Take your time." 

She nodded and I watched her gaze scan across the pages for a couple of minutes, a few expressions of surprise and almost bemusement showing up on her face, before she returned the document back to me. "Well, you seem very well qualified, if not too much!" 

I laughed politely. "Thank you." 

"But that's not really what I care about. Tell me, what do you think the purpose of a lawyer is?" 

"To serve justice. To give those who are not equipped enough a chance to succeed beyond their means and background." 

I'd come prepared for that one: evil couldn't act good without some sort of script.  

"I agree," she smiled again and wrote something down. "Okay, would you describe yourself as a hunter or a gatherer?" 

What? 

"Hunter," I blurted out, trying to not sound hesitant and meek like the guy before. But I truly was stumped. Where had that came from? 

"Why?" 

Damn. Time to blag. "A hunter's purpose is to find the prey and catch it, no matter what. Just like it's a lawyer's job to discover the truth and bring it to justice, despite any consequences." 

And I wasn't even lying then. I was here to find the truth, the truth of who this woman was, and how she could hurt us. And I would bring her to Hell's justice, despite what could go wrong. 

She was a threat to power, and power was my one ally, my one achievement. I couldn't let her go on when so much was at stake. 

But as the interview continued, she didn't really seem like much of a threat. I was asked an array of vague and rather strange questions, and by the end I was feeling tired and exasperated. 

After asking some random crap about which superhero I would be and why, we finally stood up and shook hands, and I could not feel more relieved than I did at that point to leave. This had all felt pointless. I didn't have to rehearse any of the lies I had come up with once, and overall she appeared to be too harmless to own something as powerful and as ancient as Il Libro Dei Demoni. If Dev had been wasting my time like I was beginning to suspect, then he was a dead man. I didn't tolerate fools lightly and he knew that. I'd warned him enough times about the misleading oracle and her flaky visions, and now it seemed like I was the one suffering from his naive, apoplectic garbage.  

But there was still a chance he was right, so I needed to know if I had got the job. "How long will it be till I know my results?" 

"Unfortunately," she started, checking her watch as we walked out of the interviewing room together. "It will be at least a month till I call you. The recent departure of our previous lawyer is just too suspicious and we will be waiting until the official report is released about him."

A month? Are you joking me! I didn't have that time to spare! "Of course," I said, keeping my cool instead of shouting her down like I really wanted to. "I understand." 

"Thank you. It was nice to meet you." 

"Yeah. You too." I tried to keep the coolness out of my words as we shook hands once again, and I walked away from one of the most strangest and irritating interviews of my life. 

Mrs Darcy Robbins had just wasted one of my afternoons, and it had better been worth it or I swear to Satan himself, someone would pay. 

I felt my temper rising once again and I knew I needed an outlet. I needed something to drive my anger away. And I knew exactly what it was that could help me.

And I would go there tomorrow.