by A. Blythe
As his thick, hairy body rode over me, I whispered, "Stun." I jammed the glowing sticks into his underbelly and he toppled forward, the giant body seizing and sizzling. The pain must have been too much because he reverted to his human form almost immediately.
He remained still for a moment with his eyes closed.
"They're pretty good, huh?" I asked.
He opened one eye and focused on me. "You know I like it rough."
I twirled the yantoks. "Great. So can we go again? This is fun. Maybe I can get Pinky to put spells on all my weapons."
"Sure," Pinky said, pleased that I was pleased.
Flynn dragged himself to his feet, his body bloody and bruised. "Can you get my phone? I need to call my bookie first."
"Joey Eagle?" I repeated. "Why is that important right now?"
"I need to switch my bet." He grinned at Pinky. "My money's on her now."
Preparing for the gala was like preparing for battle. Our dresses were our protective clothing. Our makeup was our war paint. Our weapons were...our weapons.
Farah zipped up the back of my dress and whistled. "It's a good thing Flynn isn't your date tonight. I don't think your dress would make it past the first song."
"Reed's not really my date, either," I objected. "He's just accompanying me so we can sniff around for Thompson. It's strictly professional."
She smiled. "Sure it is. Listen, say the word and I'll relinquish all drooling rights to you."
"Keep the saliva flowing," I told her, studying myself in the full-length dressing room mirror. Although the blue dress had been nice and presentable until it got dragged through the cemetery at the Woodlands, it had been a long time since I'd worn a beautiful, expensive dress. I hated how much I missed it.
"I have no interest in Captain Tenderheart," I continued, "nor do I think he has any interest in me. He's a Naphil, remember?"
"I don't know," Farah mused. "He gets this little twinkle in his dreamy eyes when he talks to you."
I tore my gaze away from my reflection long enough to glare at her. "He does not."
"You're too busy glaring at him with that same expression to notice." She gestured to my eyes and frowned.
"There is no twinkle," I insisted. "It's probably pity."
"If you say so." She circled me, searching for possible improvements. "Hair up or down?"
"In this heat? Definitely up."
She attempted to reach my hair and we both laughed. With our height difference, there was no way she'd be able to fix my hair while I was standing. She gestured to the red velvet chair.
"I appreciate your help with this," I said. It was difficult not to just snap my fingers and be ready. I wasn't used to doing.
"Hey, it benefits me, too. I get to dress up and ogle hot guys in tuxedos. Maybe even win a prize before the night ends." She wiggled her eyebrows.
I'd managed to convince Oscar to issue invitations to Farah and Mix. Between X-caliber, the Ghuls, and the sheer number of supernaturals in one room, there were too many angles for Reed and I to cover alone.
"It's not all fun and games," I reminded her. "We have a job to do."
"A job that involves a little fun and games," she replied, pulling a brush through my tangled mess of wavy hair. "French twist?"
"Why not?"
I stood in front of the mirror to gauge the full effect. It was a beautiful dress, courtesy of Lilith, one of Farah's best customers. Lilith owned one of the most expensive boutiques in the city called La Femme. When Farah told her we needed dresses for the gala, she was only too happy to pull together a rack of options. Farah had chosen her dress in about five minutes flat. It was typical Farah—an eye-catching gold dress that emphasized her boobs, butt, and tiny waist. My search lasted an hour with five costume changes. Farah was ready to shift into her fox form and bite me. In the end, I chose a shimmering green dress that complemented my hair and complexion.
"This dress was made for that body," Farah said, admiring my reflection, and I had to agree. It was a far cry from the Mets T-shirt and gray sweatpants I'd shown up in months ago. This look was much more me. The neckline was tastefully plunging. Enough exposed skin to entice interest but not enough to demand it. Even the slit up the thigh was more sophisticated than slutty.
"Alyse, you're going to need a taser to keep the males away."
"Don't need a taser," I said. "I'll have my lightsabers."
"My turn to transform." Farah stepped inside the dressing room. "This is so much fun. It reminds me of the old days. Getting ready before a big night out. Of course, you took about ten seconds."
"Gave me plenty of time to help you," I said. "What time will Mix be here?"
"Probably when he finishes whatever level he's on," Farah said. Mix was a video game fanatic. Even the prospect of females in clingy dresses wasn't enough to hurry him away from the console.
I leaned against the wall. "How do you think he's doing? Does he talk about Paulette at all?"
"Not to me. I'm sure he's coping in his own way, hence the increase in game playing."
"Maybe he'll meet someone at the gala," I said. In between identifying and eliminating potential threats.
"Maybe you'll meet someone at the gala," Farah said. "Don't forget, Mix has had sex way more recently than you have."
"I'd rather not think about it at all, thanks," I said, trying to erase the thought of Mix and Paulette from my mind.
Farah stepped out of the dressing room and threw her arms wide. "Ta da!"
"You look incredible," I said. The glittering gold dress stopped mid-calf and accentuated her hourglass shape. "Like a petite goddess."
She winked. "Let's hope someone decides to get down on his knees and worship me tonight."
I didn't need to ask whether she wanted her hair up or down. She was a Hinn; her red hair was her glorious mane to toss over her shoulder and draw male attention. Farah had it down to a science.
Farah blew a kiss at her reflection. "Suck it, mage bitches."
"Take it down a notch. We're not in competition with them," I said.
"Of course we are," she said, a hand on her hip. "There's going to be a room full of sinewy muscle."
"What about Rocco's sinewy muscle?" I asked. I thought he had more paunch than punch, but who was I to judge?
"He knows we're not exclusive. I told him I was too young to commit to one genitalia."
"Well, at least you were ladylike about it."
She bumped me with her hip. "We are gonna rock this gala."
"We're not going to rock anything. We're going to blend in, get information, make sure no one gets killed, and leave unscathed. That's the plan. Got it?"
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. "Alyse Winters, when has that ever happened?"
16
The stylish Marriott was on 12th and Market Street, not far from Laser Guy's exploits. The loss of innocent lives so close by made me feel uncomfortable in my glamorous attire.
Mix and Farah entered the ballroom first and I trailed behind them, scoping the area for potential threats.
Mix looked surprisingly at ease in his traditional tuxedo and he'd even combed back the shaggy hair that tended to obscure his vision. If we got through the evening unscathed, maybe he would meet a nice mage girl in a pretty dress. As long as she was registered with the Enclave and not secretly plotting to take over the colony, I didn't have a problem with Mix taking another dip in the mage pool.
You are a vision this evening, Miss Winters.
Reed, you do not get special permission to be in my head just because it's a compliment.
He appeared in front of me, smiling gently. "You are a vision this evening, Miss Winters."
So was he, but I made sure to block the thought. No need to inflate his Naphil ego. He generated more than enough female interest in plain clothes. A perfectly tailored tuxedo that accentuated his tall frame and hard muscles would send them over the edge.
"Thank you, kind sir." I extended my elbow and
he looped his arm through mine. "Seen anything interesting?"
He clucked his tongue. "Straight to business, huh?" He pretended to be mildly disappointed. At least, I assumed he was pretending.
"That's why we're here."
"In that case, Pinky's over there."
I followed his gaze to the dance floor where Pinky was in the arms of an attractive male. At first I mistook him for a Hinn because of the bulging biceps and alpha vibe, but quickly dismissed the notion. He had to be another mage. Oscar would never allow one of his prized team members to dance with the competition.
Pinky looked far more sophisticated than eighteen in a hot pink gown with a ruched bodice. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head in loose curls.
Despite the gorgeous guy dancing with her, Pinky didn't look happy. I watched as her gaze swept across the room and landed on—of course, Oscar.
"She looks very, uh, mature tonight," Reed said.
I was barely listening, still focused on the scene playing out in front of me. Oscar was dancing with the mage from the Enclave headquarters. The one with the clipboard and a chip on her shoulder. I tried to remember her name. Sheena? Nina? No, Gina. The way her fingers were toying with the collar of his shirt, she seemed very intent on keeping him close. Interesting.
"Gina's not on the team, is she?" I asked. I didn't recall seeing her name on Joey Eagle's sheet.
Reed glanced at me. "Gina Akron? No, I don't think so."
"Do you know her?"
"Not well. I've met her on Protectorate business a few times because of her position in the Enclave."
Her position as the Official Clipboard Holder.
The music changed to a more upbeat tempo and couples drifted away from the dance floor. Pinky spotted me and waved.
"She waves like a toddler," I said. "Her fingers curl over. I find it oddly endearing."
I cast a sidelong glance at Reed to find him grinning. "I'm sure some people say the same about you."
"That I act like a toddler?"
He cleared his throat and looked straight ahead. "I meant oddly endearing."
Was he flirting with me? I wasn't sure. It was possible he was just being friendly. I wasn't convinced the Nephilim knew how to flirt.
"Check out that dress," Pinky cooed as we approached. "I didn't realize you were so pretty, Alyse."
Reed stifled a laugh.
"Pinky, if you were any other girl, I'd say that was a backhanded compliment," I said.
Pinky wrinkled her nose. "You've never seen me play tennis. My backhand sucks."
"Who's your friend?" I asked with a nod toward her companion.
"Cyrus," the macho guy said and squeezed Reed's hand like a vice. To his credit, Reed didn't flinch.
"Nice to meet you, Cyrus," Reed said. "Are you competing?"
"Sure am." He flexed for us. "These muscles were designed for competition."
He knows it's not a weightlifting contest, right?
Reed arched an eyebrow. You can't let me in your head when it suits you. Be consistent.
"Captain Reed is a Protector," Pinky said.
"Cool," Cyrus replied and gave a respectful nod. Then he turned his attention to me. "And how about you, pretty lady? Are you a Protector, too?"
Pretty lady? Was he serious? At least he didn't compare me with a toddler.
Neither did I. I said oddly endearing.
Get out!
"I'm definitely not a Protector," I said to Cyrus. I didn't elaborate.
"She's my partner," Pinky said. "Alyse Winters."
Cyrus took a step backward and his face reddened. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize."
Pinky looked confused so I stepped in. "Not that kind of partner, Cyrus. We work together, not sleep together."
His eyes brightened. "Oh, got it. Cool." He rubbed his stomach. "I'm starving. Anyone else fancy a bite to eat?"
"That's okay," Pinky said. "You go ahead."
He chuckled. "That's right. Girls don't eat, do they? Gotta squeeze into those skintight dresses somehow. Am I right, Captain?" He raised his palm in an effort to high-five Reed.
Reed gently tapped his hand. It was the most awkward high-five I'd ever seen and I'd seen Ifrits without hands attempt to do it.
Another guy approached Pinky from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her into the air.
"Hi Sam," Pinky said with a roll of her eyes.
"Wow, I didn't know you had eyes in the back of your head," I said.
Sam set her down and grinned at me. "She doesn't. It's just that I do this to her all the time."
"And it never gets old," Pinky said, completely poker-faced. Man, Pinky did sarcasm like no teenager I'd ever met.
"You're with the Enclave, too?" I asked.
Sam nodded. "I've known Pinky since she was a kid."
His name sounded familiar and then I remembered why.
"You're competing," I said and he nodded like an eager Labrador retriever.
"Sam was Oscar's protégé," Pinky said.
I glanced at Sam. "But not anymore?"
"I outgrew him," Sam said with a mild shrug. "It happens."
I'd never been a protégé. I'd had guardians, sure, and Jamie, but never a real mentor. I often felt like I missed out.
"Alyse is my mentor," Pinky said, surprising everyone, including me.
"Is that so?" Sam asked, assessing me. "I didn't know we could have non-mage mentors."
"I think it's important to think outside the box," Pinky said. "Enclave members all practice the same spells. Follow the same rules. I like that Alyse is different."
I was practically beaming. "Thanks, Pinky."
"Don't let Oscar hear you say that," Sam warned. "He thinks you're his girl."
Pinky blushed at that.
"You two should dance," Pinky said, gesturing to Reed and me. "It's meant to be a fun night."
"Not for us," I said. "We're on the hunt."
I grabbed Reed's arm and pulled him away before she convinced him to drag me onto the dance floor.
"You seem really desperate not to dance with me," Reed said with a trace of amusement. "Is this because of me or because you can't dance?"
My heels skidded to a halt. "Can't dance? Me? Didn't you see my moves at Viper Pit?" Viper Pit was a huge club in an old shoe factory on the outskirts of the city.
"No, I saw you lurking at a crime scene."
"Lurking?" My voice rose an octave and I realized from the entertained expression on his face that he was baiting me. Well, I refused to bite.
"Make a deal with me," he said. "One dance before the end of the night." His dark eyes pleaded with me and I thought there wasn't a woman on earth who could've resisted them.
"There are plenty of beautiful women here tonight. Most of them with far less baggage than me. Why not save yourself the trouble and dance with one of them?"
"Because it wouldn't be nearly as much fun."
"What wouldn't be as much fun?"
I froze at the sound of my psychotic ex-boyfriend's voice.
I whirled around, ready to pounce. "Flynn!"
The sight of Tessa on his arm stopped me. She looked like a Renaissance painting in her sophisticated burgundy dress that highlighted her creamy skin and cinnamon curls. She was a regular human. How did she get through security?
"Flynn," I hissed. "Why would you bring her here? It isn't safe."
"She's with me," he said, snaking a protective arm around her waist. "It's perfectly safe."
"And how did you swing an invitation?" I asked.
His answer was typically vague. "I have friends."
Friends. Right. "You paid off a security guard," I said.
Anger flashed in his blue eyes and I knew I'd nailed it. Flynn didn't have friends. He had associates.
"Everyone looks so amazing," Tessa said, her face shining brightly. "I've never been to anything like this."
"I guess not."
Flynn lifted her hand and brushed his lips across he
r knuckles. "Care to dance, my sweet?"
Her eyelashes fluttered. "I would love to."
He gave me a triumphant look over his shoulder as he escorted her to the dance floor. Big deal. His girlfriend agreed to dance with him. Whoopty doo. Part of me was tempted to sneak a peek and see if she was a better dancer than me. I forced myself to turn back to Reed.
"Shall we take a tour of the room?" Reed asked, sensing the ants in my pants.
"How very Jane Austen of you."
We plastered on our fake smiles and networked our way through the room. No sign of Dragon Mage, Ghuls, or any other immediate threats. In a room full of powerful beings, though, you could never be too sure. The room was a pressure cooker of egos and white-hot tempers. I noticed three Hinns by the bar with their chests puffed out. I couldn't tell whether they were set on intimidating each other or the nearby trio of mages. The Hinns had a row of shot glasses in front of them, while the mages had long-stemmed wine glasses in their hands and appeared deep in conversation. There was a woman in the middle of the mage trio, tall and elegant with a face like a surly supermodel. If the Hinns were trying to get her attention, it wasn't working.
The biggest of the Hinns, about six feet of carved marble, moved closer and tapped the woman on the shoulder. She gave him a look of contempt and said something. Not a Hinn fan. The dark-haired mage next to her set down his wine glass on the counter and replied. The Hinn leaned down and bumped his forehead against the mage's.
Uh oh. This was not going to end well.
"Reed, we have a situation." I didn't know why 'we' had a situation since, technically, we weren't part of the official security team. Reed's Boy Scout vibe was rubbing off on me.
"Already noted."
As we moved toward the bar, the mage's face began to glow with a reddish hue. I heard the low growl of the muscled Hinn as his forehead began to sizzle. Whatever spell the mage was doing, it was cooking the Hinn's skin. Unable to take the heat, the Hinn jumped out of the kitchen with a primal yell. If this escalated, there would be a bloodbath.
The Hinn's two friends joined him. Although the caste wasn't known for its summoning skills, I had a feeling these guys were willing to try.