by Kacey Mark
Shauna stood in rank among the semi-circle of lab coats and mini-skirts. She shook her head despite the incessant tug on her heart. Fairies, unicorns, and Adrian Sands. They all belonged on the same irrational island. Time for Shauna’s deportation. Whether she liked it or not.
She didn’t. Not one little bit.
“Good morning, team.” Her store manager’s voice boomed over the jazzy tune trickling over the speaker system.
“Morning.” The team droned.
“You sound tired,” the boss baited with a lift of his palms.
Heartley lifted a limp strand of Shauna’s hair. “We need more coffee…Mike,” she replied absently.
“Is that all I’m good for?” he scoffed over the polite trail of laughter.
In Heartley’s world? Yes.
The manager’s speech continued, but the words couldn’t penetrate Heartley’s bubble of all-important girl talk. Her syrupy tone lowered “Not a haircut, but something’s different about you.”
Shauna glanced to her hopelessly frayed ends and smoothed them back into place. “I’ve—uh…given up heat styling.”
“In favor of what?” Heartley leaned forward and whispered. Her lips pulled into a shrewd grin. “That freshly-fucked look?”
Shauna’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open in offense despite Heartley’s breathy giggle and the protective arm that wrapped around Shauna’s shoulder. “Welcome to the club, hun. It looks great on you.”
Heartley straightened her posture and her arm vanished when the boss paused and shot both girls a harsh frown.
The speech continued, and Heartley murmured quickly under her breath, “Seriously, you should bottle that stuff.”
“Thanks.” Shauna frowned. “But I’m afraid this one’s not for sale.”
She could never do that.
Adrian had fixed her. In a matter of seconds. Oddly disappointing that it took so little time. A fair amount trial and error could have been fun, but still.
To watch him manipulate the universe with so little effort… The hands that seemed too large for magic wielded it with a delicacy she’d never imagined. The calculation, the watchful gaze that seemed to measure every flick of emotion, it went beyond a simple gift. She couldn’t deny the world his attention for her own selfish purpose.
Shauna tried to ignore the hollow ache in her gut.
She had gotten what she wanted, why the regret?
Adrian had gotten a little too. Win-win, right?
And about that more intimate gift her hulking intellect had offered—might as well drop the offered part. His prominent shaft, thickened with need had strained toward her, and she took it. Took it like a true cowgirl and raced to the finish. It left her muscles aching, her mind numb, and her body aching for more.
A pulsing warmth grew between her thighs. Even now, she craved a second helping.
Shauna sighed. That chocolate had turned her into a sex-raving idiot. She could have done so much better on her own terms, in her environment. She could have taken control of the situation before her body went on a hormone-induced rampage through Adrian’s bedroom.
What if she had dragged it out a week, maybe two? They could have gotten to know each other. Before they crossed that final line and Adrian had to move on.
No. Adrian wouldn’t have waited that long.
Neither would she.
He’d welcomed her to finish it last night, when he pulled her on top of him and urged her to take what she wanted. In that moment they were both ready to give everything and to accept their fate.
No longer the frat house gentleman. Adrian liked it once and done. After seeing his lifestyle and the kingdom he’d built at O’Nightingale’s, she knew that’s how he operated. Somewhere inside she had to have known.
Last night she didn’t care. She needed a cure, and a cure she got. Why would spending one bonus night with him change him in the least?
Perhaps he had already forgotten her. Her heart squeezed. But how could she forget?
“Hey. Pinkie. Wake up.”
She blinked at the manicured, snapping fingers in her face.
The downturned corners of her store manager’s mouth matched the receding crop of hair atop his head. “Did. You. Have a positive experience with a customer yesterday?” He turned to the other members standing in rank and paced away with his hands behind his back and his chest puffed out à la Napoleon.
“Not that I recall…”
“No? Well, let’s see if we can’t make that happen today. Okay?” Mike clapped his hands. “Let’s get to work.”
Heels clicked in rapid fire over the glossy floor, as her coworkers moved to their stations.
Except for Shauna.
And the queen.
Heartley took a none-shall-pass stance. “Details!” Her voice tail-ended with a whine.
Shauna shrugged. “It’s private.”
Heartley frowned. “Well, something’s brought the pink back in your cheeks, and I want some.”
Shauna didn’t respond. She edged to one side toward her counter.
“Don’t you dare deny it.” Heartley marched at her heels.
Shauna could feel the warmth in her cheeks growing. Her beacon of guilt glowing brighter.
She rounded the corner to where an overweight squid-in-a-suit had made an early-morning stake-out of her makeup chair. She stopped short.
Squid-dididly sent her a sideways grin, and all at once, the plug had been pulled on her beacon. Warmth vacated her face.
“Come on. Does he have a brother, a cousin, something? I’m desperate!” Heartley insisted. “Fork it over.”
Shauna clenched her teeth. At this point, she’d do anything to get rid of her. “I’ll give you a card, how’s that?”
Heartley turned to one side. Her mascara-lined eyes narrowed, and she studied Shauna’s face for a moment, then nodded. “Good enough.”
Shauna swept by while she still had the room. “Be sure to ask for Onyx.”
She pulled in a tight breath on her way to the counter and flung the squid a curt smile. “Something I can help you with?” She swept the scattered sponges and Q-tips he had clearly been playing with into the trash.
“I need to be done.” He grinned.
She rolled her eyes. “You need your makeup done?”
“Make-out, maybe.” His grin widened. He plucked a tube of After Party Pink from its rightful place on the display.
“Leave.” Shauna planted her hands on her hips and flicked her attention to her approaching manager. “Before he makes you leave.” The manager looked to be headed out of the accessories department, and into a very bad mood. He hated personal visits on the clock. Especially from family.
Perfect. Then Squidster was about to become her long-lost, freeloading Uncle Vic, who just finished five-and-three in the state pen. For shoplifting.
The clear, plastic chair squeaked in protest as the Squid leaned back. “What do you think I’ll get? A slap on the wrist?”
Shauna skirted to the safe side of the counter and knelt down, pretending to busy herself with the inventory markdowns. “I don’t care. So long as you leave—”
“Hey, Mike. How’s it going?”
Shauna heard the slapping sound. It wasn’t slappy-on-the-wrist at all. More like a high-five.
“How long has it been?”
“’Bout—uh…ten years, probably?” Her manager’s voice brightened.
She popped back up. The look on her face must have read like toddlerhood injustice. That’s about the effect it had on the two men. None. What. So. Ever.
She interrupted their high school, glory-day discussion with the loudest ahem she could muster. “We have our own store security. We don’t need you here.”
Both men straightened with offense. “Actually, you do,” the squid replied. “Because I’m a customer. No. I mean, really.” He started again, looking to the manager for sympathy, then back to Shauna. “Can you make it look like I’ve been making out with the hottest girl here?” He t
ugged his collar off-kilter, and mussed his greasy hair for added effect. “It’s for the guys back at the office. I can’t really afford to lose this bet, ya’ see?”
Shauna’s arms slumped. How much more off the wall would this life get?
Her boss gave her that golden-moment brow lift, and finished it off with a you-dang-well-better-take-it jab of his finger. “Sure thing. Give him a hand, Shauna.” He turned. “Nice seeing you.” He laughed. “And no more bets.”
Shauna stared helplessly for a moment, but the manager had already moved on.
She closed her eyes. “So would that be frosted pink or…”
“Whatever you’re wearing.”
“Of course,” she said in defeat. She snatched the lipstick from his hand.
Shauna leaned in, forcing breaths in and out her mouth so as not to smell him. She did her best to make the make-up look as fabricated as possible. Like grease paint lined with stubble.
Pretty sure she’d never wear that shade again.
Fine way to ruin a perfectly good color scheme. Forever.
“Interesting thing happened last night in the historic district,” he said. “You know, after our little conversation.”
“Yeah?” Shauna’s heart rate kicked up, but she kept her gaze lowered on the tube of lipstick.
“Fire broke out in the basement of a rather unassuming bird shop. So, I gotta ask…Since it sounds like your handiwork…”
She blotted the edge of his mouth with a cotton ball. “Smudged? Like this?”
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”
“If you were a better tail, you’d know.” Leaving in Adrian’s car must have totally thrown him off. Shauna had become a pretty good shake when it came to the feds. With this guy on her trail, all the old tricks became new again. Suddenly it had become easier and easier. Which seemed odd. “Why is that exactly?”
“What?”
“Why aren’t you better at your job?”
His voice hardened. “Doesn’t matter. All you need to know now is that I’m your shadow from here on out.” He took the mirror she dealt him and leaned in close. “You left behind a live one this time. Did you know that? The man you set on fire last night actually survived. Burns over half his body. He isn’t talking yet, but when he does…I’ll be right here to take you down.”
He looked into the glass. “No. This is all wrong. It’s more like…” He tossed the mirror. “Aww, what the hell—” He grabbed Shauna’s shoulders and jerked her forward. He mashed his lips against hers.
He jerked back faster than she could push him.
“You ass!” She whipped the slime from her mouth with the back of her hand.
No satisfaction gleamed on his face. Only shock, then pain. “Oh. Ouch.” He touched his lip. “What was that?” He looked to his fingers. “What the hell was that?” he demanded again. “Did you shock me?”
“You deserved that. You deserve more than that.” She took a menacing step forward.
His brows drew together with disbelief and his voice lowered as though speaking more to himself than anyone. “You burned me.”
Her next sentence got cut off by heavy, hurried steps. “Struck him? Did he just say you struck him?” her manager demanded.
“Uh, no.” Shauna frowned. “Shocked him.” Good enough excuse for now, right? “And it wasn’t on purpose.”
“We were going for the full effect,” Squid added with a grin.
The manager’s lips pursed with rage. “That’s it. Mike, please leave my store. And you—” He turned on Shauna. “Interesting marketing scheme and all, but you’re making a spectacle. No more male clients.” He paused. “Except for Halloween, that’s different.” He spun on his heel to leave but paused again. “And until Halloween, that whole,” he waved his palm in front of her face, “thing you’ve got going is against dress code. Wash it off and get back to work.”
A silky voice appeared at her side. “He’s right, you know.” Heartley scrunched her nose. “It was subtle before; you should have stopped there. Now it looks like you’re kinda mocking your job.”
“What?” Her eyes might be still a little raccoony—a little swollen—whether from crying last night, or setting herself on fire. Or both.
But it couldn’t be that bad…
Her friend widened her eyes and looked away as if trying to escape before the horror unfurled.
“What?” She snatched the mirror and stared back in horror. The lipstick smudge across her upper lip—that was least of it.
Her complexion was fine when she left for work.
She looked again. Her mouth framed the words in silent whisper. “Oh my God.”
She hadn’t even bothered with primer, foundation, or blush this morning. But now, her entire face looked like she’d powdered it with cotton candy.
And her arms! The mirror clattered onto the table as she looked from one to the next.
She tugged her shirt down several inches to reveal a pair of petal-pink breasts.
“This wasn’t intentional.” She blurted to no one in particular.
“Well, hun, next time, don’t put your bronzer on in the dark.” Heartley up-ended a bottle of make-up remover onto a cotton ball and handed it to Shauna.
Shauna lifted the hair from her forehead, and scrubbed her brow feverishly with the other. Up and down, side-to-side. The color only deepened. Her voice rose to a shrill note. “What if it doesn’t come off?”
“Let’s just hope it does…It usually does…maybe you should see a doctor.”
****
Shauna’s grip tightened on her phone. Its rhinestone-encrusted casing scored her palm and released a plastic creak of protest.
Words rattled off her tongue fast as her mind could form them. “Hey, it’s Shauna. I know you said you’d do your best to be here, but I need you to do better than that. Something’s come up—I think something went wrong—and I need your help. Call me.”
She pulled a breath into her starving lungs and touched on the end button.
She dropped the phone into the center console. It clattered around in the shallow cup holder and nearly bounced free as Shauna veered a quick right around the corner on squealing tires.
She pulled in another sharp lungful of air as she entered the dim alley and forced her foot on the brake.
The car jerked to a stop.
Her gaze pinned to the cross-traffic in her rearview mirror.
One vehicle. Then another.
No white SUV.
Frustration percolated along her nerve endings. She could just imagine the Squidster idling quietly on the other side of the alley. Humming to himself along with the radio’s twangy tune. His index fingers tapping gleefully on the steering wheel. Just…waiting.
Erratic driving would only encourage him to follow more aggressively. This wasn’t big city traffic. It was small town traffic. On a late Friday morning of all things.
The hidden drive next to the pasta shop hadn’t worked.
Neither had the graveyard.
She never used the graveyard. Too many winding turns in the open. It made her an easy target, but to the average newcomer, the snaggle-toothed maze had no detectable exit.
Yet he navigated through that place like a funeral director on caffeine.
Suddenly, the worst detecti—agent in the business was excelling at his job. As though a flag somewhere had just lifted.
Or the flag holder.
Cold realization hit Shauna square in the face like a mop-bucket of dirty water. Richard said he had connections. He stalked her all the way to the nightclub and blended in like nobody’s business. And now that he was gone…
Had he been influenced by the feds somehow?
Wedding night rehearsal…pifft. Richard didn’t want her. She shook her head. Which explained her rather obvious reaction toward him.
Or lack thereof.
Her temperature hadn’t soared nearly as high with him. The very reaction he wanted to witness the most.
; She erected her spine. “Good…jerk.”
She accelerated through the alley and veered right, cutting it close for a stray dog that had been bustling across the street at an awkward angle. She splashed through a waterlogged ditch.
Adrian better not have changed his number already. A pang of loss hit her chest.
How could she hide her condition now? With her face stained an unnatural shade of freak? And what’s worse, she’d burned the agent. That’s more than enough proof to haul her butt back to the observation room.
Anyone she associated with could be labeled a plausible connection.
Adrian had lived in secret for the better part of his adult life. Whether the squid knew Adrian’s story or not, he would start taking notes the moment he caught them together.
Word might get out, and the nation would return to Adrian’s doorstep. More than just clamoring for attention this time. Shauna remembered the anger and frustration of Adrian’s potential clients who took to the nine-o’clock news shortly after he disappeared.
The lives he could save. The pain they endured. Their anger turned venomous. Their actions, deadly.
Shauna couldn’t sacrifice him like that. She snatched up the phone again and scrolled through her list of contacts. Sammy. Maybe he could help.
Her attention flicked to the mirror again, as the hulking, white SUV turned the corner with all the ease of a Sunday afternoon drive.
Shauna clenched the wheel with her free hand.
When the phone connected, she heard Samuel’s voice in the distance. It seemed to drown under the whirring sound of machinery.
Shauna looked up as red stoplight glared toward her. She gasped and pressed the phone closer as she jammed on the brake again.
“Samuel? Hello.”
“Get another air mover over here. This one isn’t cutting it.” A crackle sounded over the phone. His voice drew closer. “Hello?”
“It’s Shauna Tamson.”
“Oh, the shortcake. Hi! Fancy hearing you again.”
“Where’s Adrian?”
“Not here.” His lightened tone dampened a little. “I’ve been cleaning up his mess for over an hour now.”
Her shoulders sunk under their own weight.
“You wanna reschedule or something?” he prompted.
“Kinda. We met up last night, but things didn’t go as expected.”