Devils and Details, pt 2 (Patreon)

- - -  

Argyle’s mouth was watering, he couldn’t help that. There were smells coming from the small kitchen in his apartment that he didn’t completely understand. The wolf knew what the end result of those scents was, something delectable that was going to come his way delivered by a red squirrel in a waiter’s uniform who was neither a waiter, nor a squirrel. Something that while he could technically get some variant of it on a street side shop – this was New York after all, what he couldn’t find here was the shorter list – he sure as hell couldn’t get it home made and using whatever that odd blend of spices the squirrel fiend was making such masterful use of.

Yeah, maybe that was an example of the fiend twisting words a little, but it was also an example of him having deliberately challenged the creature to. Argyle couldn’t really fault him for that. He was already looking forward to whatever was en route out in the next few minutes, but that left the wolf feeling an odd rush down his spine and chastising himself a little. He did not call the creature here to act as a chef. 

“Indeed not, though I don’t think I mind all that much.”

If the wolf could’ve jumped out of his skin at that, he would have. Argyle recovered quickly enough however and tried once more to stay focused while the squirrel set out a tray in front of him. A rather over loaded one, sporting an entire roast chicken and a few sides ranging from vegetables to pasta and a baked potato – almost all of it topped with a bit of grated cheese and some of that mystery spicing. 

“And I can’t deny you’re good at it, but it’s high time we got to business. For that, I need to know a bit about what you can do. Also, what the heck do I call you? I think this bit on the contract is your name, but-”

The squirrel’s lips curled a bit while he poured a glass of wine at Argyle’s side.

“It is, but as you’ve noted it’s rather unpronounceable. Well, not without hurting yourself at any rate. Call me Lewis for now.”

Argyle couldn’t help enjoying this part, even on just the third day. Someone bringing him dinner, and a fine one at that, felt right. It felt like what he deserved with his talents, rather than the scraping and fighting he was constantly doing before. Like that pompous jerk Marshall probably never had in his life. Lewis was clearly preparing to answer his question in the meantime, so Argyle busied himself with tearing off a drumstick and getting to filling his uncharacteristically ravenous belly. Revenge was, apparently, hungry work. Not that he didn’t also enjoy the pleasant tingle that odd spice started in him.

“As to my talents, sir; you did stipulate you required a degree of subtlety in what I do. A wise precaution, I must say. That said, I can affect just about any change you desire given enough time. Patience is often the required currency when subtlety is desired, though there are exceptions of course.”

Licking his lips of some errant juice, Argyle set aside a stripped bone and brought a fork full of butter-laced starch near to his lips before continuing.

“So, if I asked you to ruin him at the firm and get me his job?”

The squirrel (who had somehow resumed wearing his tailored suit from earlier rather than his kitchen attire) tucked his arms behind his back and watched unblinking, unbreathing, as Argyle ate with an uncomfortable intensity.

“I would begin undermining his credibility and creating opportunities for you to openly demonstrate your obvious legal expertise. It might require a few years to fully execute, however.”

Argyle was silent for a while after that, apart from the occasional messy, organic eating sounds. The meal took the edge off the frustration he felt over that answer, though it wasn’t an unreasonable point. Doing anything too overt could get him found out and things would probably end very messily in that event. 

The wolf reached out for the wine while wiping his lips clean.

“I suppose we’d better start sooner rather than later, then.”

The statement brought out a raised eyebrow from the squirrel. Lewis looked curious about something, which left Argyle matching the expression, inviting the fiend to speak.

“How much sooner would you like me to have started, sir? I can adjust things up to a point, specifically up to the point you acquired my contract.”

A slower blink Argyle had never engaged in. That mouthful of equally spicy wine was held for a moment, then very gradually swallowed as the enormity of that potential slowly crept over the wolf.

“…That sounds like it would have consequences. Ripple effects or some such thing.”

Lewis nodded once at that, maintaining his unblinking stare while Argyle began to peel apart at the bird and get to the rest of the dark meat.

“Minor ones, as long as subtlety is maintained. Strictly speaking what you are asking for is a targeted ‘ripple effect’ here – but time is a resilient thing. It may require one event in the present to jar things into motion however.”
 Tearing free another bit of meat, Argyle took his time savoring the curious tingling as it slid down his throat and nestled inside. It felt like that incomparable taste lingered in him whenever he ate the squirrel’s cooking, like that moment of pleasure on the lips from it lasted longer than it should. 

Argyle took a breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. For wielding power. He’d have to get used to this, he told himself.

“See to it then, Lewis. I’ll be heading back into the office tomorrow, I expect to see something substantial.”

Confident as he was in his abilities, it was still profoundly unnerving whenever he watched the squirrel smile with those unnaturally predatory teeth he sported. Not that Argyle let himself feel proper fear over it, he was confident in his work on the contract, and his appetite remained unassailable in the face of such disquieting mirth, but he did feel an ominous shifting around in his belly. 

Clearing his throat, Argyle looked back down to his plate.

“That will be all for now, Lewis.”

The fact that the squirrel wasn’t standing there anymore when he said that, and that Argyle couldn’t quite recall at what point he had left, just leant further credence to both the creature’s talents and to the wolf’s unease around him.

Privacy did bring with it some comforts though, some freedoms. Argyle reached down to his lap, undoing the latch on his belt and squirming a little. He was eating far too well perhaps, which stood out in his mind as a symbol for the rest of what was going on. He could not risk getting too comfortable with his current situation. Not until he understood it a bit better.

The wolf’s eyes went wide as the tray he was eating from when a voluminous outburst of gas escaped his now unrestrained belly, filling the space around him with a distinctly sulfurous odor that left Argyle rapidly fishing for his napkin to cover his nose with one hand, and fumbling for the box of matches he kept in his desk with the other. 

“Ugh, definitely a little too comfortable.”