Claire's Bad Boy (Date Monsters For Bad Boys Book 1)

by Lisa Daniels

Claire’s smile froze, and her heart did an awful lurch. “This is for my training?”

  “Of course. Maybe less of training, and more of me milking my connections to give you a massive head start, I suppose, but that’s the idea. I hope you can dance.”

  “I can’t dance for shit,” Claire said, wrestling with a severe wave of disappointment. Kallen’s eyes were glittering, like he honestly thought that Claire would love this. That he’d given her the best thing ever, something she’d be a fool not to accept.

  And yet here she was. Feeling like this. Again. “That’s… that’s really great. Thank you, Kallen.” They entered the changing rooms, with huge walk-in wardrobes. A few other guests were selecting as well. Women so beautiful, men so handsome, that Claire felt like a gremlin in comparison. While she appreciated somewhat Kallen’s zeal to help her out, she didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to do all these fancy things.

  She just wanted Kallen. Who was unavailable, of course. What an idiot I am, she thought savagely, forcing herself to be grateful for the opportunity, shutting down that incessant voice telling her to just confess to him. That way only led to disaster. Kallen seemed genuinely oblivious to Claire’s feelings, when usually he was so receptive.

  She supposed it had something to do with him avoiding his own feelings about Suzie. She messaged her friends, explaining where she was, and got an explosion of texts about how amazing this was, and also how jealous they were for not being invited. They weren’t the ones paying Kallen, though, so he had no reason to bring them along.

  Her friends were encouraging her. Kallen was encouraging her. A bright and dazzling future potentially awaited. Everything a woman could wish for.

  That was enough.

  Plastering a fake smile on her face, she rifled through the clothing, not able to imagine herself in any of the items.

  “I know what I’m wearing,” Kallen said, plucking out a three-piece suit with a white cravat and silver cufflinks. The jacket forked at the end—a tailcoat. “I’ve always wanted to look as if I came from the 19th century.”

  “I haven’t,” Claire said. “Women’s clothes were awful in those times. Corsets and petticoats and iron cages and so many layers of restricting clothing that some people needed help to get it on and off. You know, they used to get little girls barely in their toddler years to wear the corsets to give them that hourglass shape. Some suffocated and died. Their insides became ruined by the crushing.” She then blushed, as Kallen stared at her with one eyebrow raised in amusement.

  “I never knew you had any interest or knowledge in Victorian clothing,” he said.

  “It’s boring, anyway,” she said, ducking through a swarm of clothes to hide her red face. “People aren’t interested in that sort of thing.”

  “Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? Or study history? Or anything like that?” His voice drifted through the clothes. Her hands grasped a silky material, and she tugged at it to see that it was a two-piece top, with the waistcoat actually sewn into the shirt. Huh. This was more like it. She could go for the uniform style, like riders wore when attending equestrian events.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It was just a stupid interest.”

  Kallen let out an exasperated sigh, and her blush went deeper. “Nothing is just an interest, Claire. Everything has the potential to become something else. What dreams did you have? There must have been some.”

  Claire was about to retort that she had no dreams except of pleasing her parents, but instantly knew it for a lie.

  There was a dream. She’d just buried it.

  “I guess I wanted to work in one of those cosplaying villages. They have one all the way over in the U.K. Some place called Morwellham Quay.” She pronounced it as Morwellan. “It’s a world heritage site. The place is like a glass ball preservation of a time in the 1800s. They even allow you to dress up for the part and walk around to impersonate Victorians.” She emerged from the clothes at last, rubbing the back of her head. “Some people wanted to do Disney, I suppose. I wanted that. I don’t know why. It just sounded so interesting to me.”

  And the moment she’d mentioned that interest to her parents, they had scoffed. Same with her own friends. Because who would want to choose a crusty Victorian over pretending to be a Disney princess?

  “Maybe you could do it,” Kallen said, smiling. His eyes were soft and approving. “What’s to stop you now?”

  “I’m too old,” she said. “And too American. Besides, I do have a good career.” She shrugged. “To be honest, I’d forgotten about it until you reminded me.”

  Kallen nodded, examining her top with intrigue. “You’re going to wear that?”

  “Mm. Just need jodhpurs. Breeches,” she added, when Kallen appeared confused by the word. She fished out a beige set, along with some tough-looking riding boots. “Ah! Perfect. I’ll wear this.”

  Kallen still looked bemused. “I sort of thought you’d want to wear, you know, a dress. Something glittering and opulent. Like what she’s selecting.” He jabbed his finger over to a woman who seemed to be picking out a wedding dress, with pearls sewn into it.

  “I’m not getting married,” Claire said wryly. Kallen pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything else. They ventured to separate changing rooms to don their outfits. Claire examined the final result in a large hallway style mirror, one of several lined side by side for the women to look into. She grinned at the neat white and black top, with a red handkerchief tucked into one breast pocket. Her sleeves were buttoned at the end, and her waistcoat dipped down to her breeches, which tucked into tough, polished black boots. Her mask didn’t really fit, but she wanted it the instant she spotted it—a sort of hat and stitched-in goggle combination, one step away from turning into a plague-doctor mask. Her nose was obscured, but not by a ridiculously long beak. Her lips were rather plain, and she plumped them up a little.

  She felt so proud of her choice, though her jaw dropped when she watched Kallen waltz into the reception, his mask tucked under one arm, standing straight and noble with his gentleman’s outfit.

  If only this man were hers. For now, she’d have to content herself with the fact that she might just pull some hot shifter.

  Even though she and Kallen had kissed. Even though there had been a moment between them that made her think of all the possibilities.

  Arm in arm, masks on, they ventured into the main ballroom, already crowded. Chandeliers glittered over the expansive ceiling. Tapestries hung over the walls, depicting images of supernatural creatures. Soft, waltz music filled the air, mixing with the many animal scents and auras that permeated the entire room. People at these events were supposed to intermingle, speaking to one another under the assumption that they didn’t know who they spoke to, or pretended that they didn’t. Anonymity and masks.

  “We’ll start off together,” Kallen whispered, and he grabbed Claire by the hands, strong and warm with his grip. He led her through a slow, swirling dance, taking the moment to speak to her. “Don’t worry if you feel out of depth. People won’t know you. All they know is that you were somehow important enough to be here. That will intrigue many. Take all the time you want, and you must try the food they have for selection. It’s divine.”

  “Thanks,” Claire said, heart beating fast from her proximity to Kallen, along with a roiling unease in her gut. “Did you ever go to events like this with Suzie? Or do they not have masquerade balls in werewolf territory?”

  “I’d rather not think about Suzie now,” Kallen said firmly. His teeth bared in a grimace, though most of his features were obscured by the gray wolf mask he wore. Cute. “I’m here with you.”

  Except not really, Claire thought. He wasn’t with her. Not in that way. But she wasn’t going to let herself be too butthurt about it. “I just wondered. You seem comfortable in this setting. Ravishing, even.”

  “Heh.” Kallen moved his mouth closer to hers, though the snout prevented there being any intimacy. “You don’t look too bad in
your outfit yourself. It’s certainly drawing attention. Look around.”

  Claire did, and found quite a few people examining her with interest. Most of the women were in dresses, ranging from white and neon blue, to sultry reds and blacks. No women seemed to be going for her style, though the long, flowing dresses did look elegant in the way they fluttered with the dance moves. The amount of attention was flattering, to say the least—especially considering how beautiful all the people were that she’d seen unmasked. She felt completely out of her league, but that didn’t stop her from dancing anyway. She even managed not to step on Kallen’s toes. Miracles happened.

  The soft yet grand music, the pompous atmosphere, and individuals mixing together intimidated Claire.

  “I’m surprised, really.”

  “Don’t be. You stand out. In a good way. Can’t say I expected it to work, but it does.” He grinned behind his mask, and Claire rolled her eyes. All too soon, they parted, and a stranger scooped her up and lured her into conversation. Kallen was right about the fact that they wanted to probe her for information, to figure out why she was here and what she was worth. She kept her details light, pretending to act interested in the other attendees, although some actually were interesting enough to listen to.

  She also noticed that she gained the attention of quite a few women with her outfit. That was less expected, if flattering. One woman, wearing a sparkling blue dress studded with sapphires, outright asked her if she’d be willing to have a good time tonight. Claire politely refused, though she was still left grinning from the attention. Rita would flip to see all this. She’d want to be right here, getting in on the action, intermingling with all these fancy men and ladies. Probably attempt to bribe her way into an orgy or something.

  Claire made her way through the others, admiring their masks, their numerous accents, their intrigue. Though she did notice something that soured her mood a little.

  Kallen, spending a long time with one single patron. A female one. She tried not to look at him too much, because he wasn’t meant to be her focus, after all, but the fact that he overstayed with that one person suggested that he liked her. That he wanted to know more about her. Jealousy writhed within her, even though she knew how stupid it was to feel that way. She should have known better.

  Still, the mood lingered with her anyway.

  Chapter Eight – Kallen

  “Should have known I’d see you here eventually.” Andrea pursed her lips as she stared at Kallen. He smiled briefly and touched her on the shoulder of her glittering, silver dress.

  “Father’s trying to lure me back again,” he said. Andrea sighed.

  “Of course he is. You were the eldest son, until you decided to run off like you did.” Her orange eyes were accusing.

  “Is that what he’s been saying?” Damn the man. Kallen wondered just what other lies the man had fed to the clans. “He exiled me himself, after bribing the person I wanted to marry with a shit-ton of gold, and then attempting to foist me off on someone else. When I protested, I was threatened with death or exile. So guess what I did?”

  Andrea winced. “I told you that Suzie was a gold-digger. You would have saved yourself the trouble if you listened.”

  “Yeah, well, cuz, I wasn’t really listening to anyone at the time.”

  “Or you were listening with your dick,” Andrea said. “No wonder my side of the family is considered the smarter one. Still, you could have told me this when you came here last time. Why didn’t you?”

  “Your brothers looked like they wanted to rip a piece off me when they recognized my scent,” Kallen said wryly. “I did try to approach you, but it didn’t work well.”

  “You didn’t answer any of my messages,” Andrea said, still needling. Kallen sighed. He hadn’t done a whole lot of things. “You have the same number?”

  “I… do. You stopped messaging over a year back.”

  “I wonder why.” Andrea’s voice came out all snark. “You’ve treated me like shit. You can’t have been wallowing in despair about the gold-digger for so long.”

  Kallen sighed. “I take it you don’t know about what she or my father might have planned, then?”

  Andrea examined him for a moment, allowing herself to be drawn into a dance. Her movements were stiff and reluctant. His cousin still smelled like she did all those years ago, with a hint of elderberry on her skin. She did like that perfume. “I might know… something,” she conceded. “Nothing concrete, though. So don’t raise your hopes up too much.”

  “Anything’s better than nothing.”

  “Mm. Advice you could follow when responding to your own cousin, right?”

  Kallen winced. “I deserved that.”

  “Yeah, you did. Let’s see. I know your father’s been mighty annoyed you’ve stayed out of his clutches for so long. I know Suzie and her family are still being pimped by yours. They’re basically his perfect little slaves now, doing anything and everything so long as he keeps them well supplied with whatever vices they like to seek out. If you’re expecting her to be there for you, you’ll be sorely mistaken.”

  “I know. I didn’t think she’d actually come back for me. It’s just…. jarring to see her there. I suppose my father wants me back, then. For sure.”

  “For sure,” Andrea agreed. “Far as I know, he’s concerned that you’ll want to challenge him on the inheritance. Even though you’re exiled, you can still choose to come back and royally screw things up for him.”

  “I have no interest in returning.” Kallen’s voice was flat. “Not back to that cesspit of tradition and hate. Tradition’s just peer pressure by dead people anyway.”

  Andrea snorted. “That’s a good one. Regardless, he thinks you’ll be a threat anyway. I’d be surprised if he hasn’t sent other people after you to mysteriously bump you off if Suzie’s luring doesn’t work.”

  Kallen groaned slightly, and Andrea gave up dancing completely. She’d never been a particularly good dancer. She mostly helped to run the events within the Palmstone Mansion, and help to forge connections where needed. She also used Date Monsters on the side, finding moderate success with it. Andrea pouted her thick lips. His cousin had always been a good friend, though his father did have some issues with her branch of the family. Apparently Kallen’s uncle, or Andrea’s father, had been accused of stealing an old family heirloom. No evidence had surfaced, but the uncle did “stumble” onto an unexpected windfall of gold. Possibly from selling the heirloom somewhere.

  “Who’s the lady looking at us?” Andrea said. “She was the one I saw you walk in with.”

  “Oh, that’s Claire,” Kallen replied. “I’m training her at the moment. She doesn’t have a lot of experience when it comes to these high-end events and with men, so I’ve been teaching her what I know. Did I mention that I appreciate you letting me in?”

  “Hmph,” Andrea said. “Awful lot of effort to go through to make sure the woman gets chances here. Supernatural?”

  “Human.”

  “Oh...” Andrea stared at Claire with more interest. “You got her from Date Monsters?”

  “Yep. I was going to expand my business and help the men who couldn’t pull girls, but I thought why not extend the offer to the women, too? Give them the man’s side of things. She’s been doing well for herself.”

  Kallen wasn’t sure if he liked the sly smile now creeping over Andrea’s wide face. It was entirely too knowing. “Judging by the way she’s looking at you, I’d say she’s pretty into you. Do you feel the same way as well, or not really into humans?”

  Kallen raised one eyebrow, even though Andrea couldn’t see it. “She’s not into me. She hired me, sure, but I’m just her trainer.” Even though we kissed. It was just a normal kiss. He got a little excited, she happened to be an attractive woman… why not indulge?

  Except he kept thinking about that kiss. Except he wanted nothing more than for it to happen again, and for some reason, that made him less willing to go for it. As if he was afraid that
his emotions would get out of hand, somehow. That he might grow too attached to someone, just like he once did with Suzie. He didn’t want that to happen again. He didn’t want to feel like he might fall for someone. Even though out of the kinds of people he might fall for, Claire seemed like a decent, reliable type. What you saw was what you got. Likely the woman didn’t even know how to deceive. He wouldn’t mind meeting more of those types.

  Though it might mean an end to his current lifestyle.

  Couldn’t keep living this way forever, he thought ruefully. Things had to change in the end.

  “If you think she’s not into you, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. Though she’s an idiot too, because you’re not exactly the type who sticks around.”

  Kallen wanted to protest again, but couldn’t see any way of doing so that didn’t make him look like a hypocrite. He never used to be this way.

  It was just easier to be this way.

  Claire at that point seemed determined to make her way over to him. When she was within hearing range, he gestured to Andrea. “This is the woman who let us in. She’s my cousin.”

  “Cousin?” Claire sounded surprised. Kallen hadn’t told her about his cousin. Just his immediate family and the clash with Suzie. Andrea said a casual hello and shook hands with Claire.

  “Probably the only one who doesn’t want to hang me. I was just asking her whether she knew about Suzie’s intentions to visit me. Doesn’t seem so.”

  “Is that why you came here?” Claire asked, puzzled, and Kallen sensed a pitfall.

  “A little part,” he admitted, preparing himself for a negative reaction. “Though I was thinking about taking you to this place before Suzie turned up. It’s the pinnacle of high supernatural society from the ones who like to visit.”

  “Not the safest place for you to visit, however,” Andrea said. “Some of your family have been found here. Some of Suzie’s, too. It’s their opportunity to mix with other supernaturals in a high-profile event. They’re not about to cut off all ties with the outside.”