“What’s happening here?” Professor Thorne demanded.
Rigo continued to stare me down, but I forced my gaze to hers. “Nothing, ma’am. Instructor Garcia was reminding me of the rules.”
My tone was stiff, but at least I’d said the right words.
“And you’ll do well to remember them,” she said. “Now, hit the showers. You smell disgusting.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded and started for the locker room, already strategizing about how to go around Rigo to resolve this.
“A shower isn’t going to be enough to remove that stick up her ass,” Rigo muttered. “Hell, even her father’s death couldn’t do it.”
The words were so soft, I wouldn’t have heard them without my fae senses. But I wasn’t the only one with super-hearing.
A few gasps sounded.
Rage crept through me, and my inner beast snarled. Suddenly, every unshed tear and unspoken slice of rage I’d harbored for an unnamed killer wanted out. And it wanted me to unleash it on Rigo Garcia.
I whirled and closed the distance, my fist connecting with Rigo’s face before he or anyone else could move a muscle.
The crack sounded loudly against the shocked silence.
Rigo buckled, nearly losing his balance before catching himself. Straightening, he held a hand to his eye, using the other to glare back at me. Then he started forward in response, and I braced myself, hands fisted, while I waited for him to come.
Professor Thorne stepped between us, driving Rigo back with obvious effort.
He growled at her attempt to stop him and nearly yanked free when she muttered a few quiet words and Rigo’s feet went still. He strained against her magic but nothing he tried unstuck him.
Professor Thorne turned to face me, eyes blazing. “Don’t even think about it, recruit.”
“He can’t talk about my father like that.”
“I agree,” Professor Thorne said.
I blinked at her, surprised into stillness. “You do?”
“Of course I do. That was a terrible thing to say.” Her expression turned to a warning. “But you shouldn’t have hit him.”
“The bitch assaulted me,” Rigo yelled.
The training doors opened. Kinrade and Wayne walked in. When they saw the three of us facing off, and Rigo still struggling to get free from Thorne’s spell, they increased their pace.
“What’s going on here?” Starla asked, rushing in behind them.
“That’s better explained elsewhere,” Professor Thorne said before Rigo could say a word. She gave a pointed chin-nod toward the other recruits. “Miranda, why don’t you take care of them and we’ll all meet in my office?”
Professor Kinrade nodded and hurried toward the remaining recruits, ushering them toward the locker rooms.
“Time to shower and get to your next class,” she told them as the crowd scattered. Cliff gave me a look and then reluctantly followed the others.
“Follow me,” Professor Thorne said and started for the rear exit; a door that led to staff quarters.
I followed her, and Starla fell in behind me.
“What about me?” Rigo demanded.
Without turning, Professor Thorne raised her hand above her head and snapped her fingers. Rigo’s answering grunt was proof he’d just been unstuck.
Ten minutes later, all four instructors and Starla were all staring back at me as I finished telling my side of what had happened starting with Faith nearly getting killed and ending with Rigo getting sucker punched.
“She’s broken too many rules,” Rigo said when I was done. “Expulsion is the only obvious choice here.”
“You talked shit about her dead father,” Professor Wayne said.
I shot him a grateful glance, but when my eyes landed on his Hawaiian shirt, I looked away. Milo had officially made it weird.
“She assaulted me,” Rigo said emphatically. “And don’t forget about how she helped another recruit during a solo test.”
“Yes, let’s talk about that,” Starla said, crossing her arms as she looked at Rigo. “So, you were aware Faith Burkhart was mortally wounded and you hadn’t intervened?”
Rigo scowled. “I had it under control.”
“Yeah, it sounds like it,” Starla said dryly.
“It was a teaching moment,” he shot back.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“At any rate, it is against policy for recruits to physically assault instructors,” Professor Thorne said, and I tensed.
Shit.
For all this hard work to be ruined because Rigo had goaded me into kicking his ass . . . I didn’t even want to think about how mad I’d be at myself for this when I had to go back to work at Lila’s Sandwich Shop after all this.
“She was baited,” Starla said. “I hardly think we can blame her for reacting.”
Rigo’s eyes widened. “Who’s side are you on?” he demanded.
Starla’s gaze hardened. “I’m on the side of the SSF, Rigo. What about you?”
“What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I’m loyal to the agency.”
“Then you’ll see the wisdom in my idea,” Starla said. Turning to Professor Thorne and the other instructors, she added, “I think I have a solution that will benefit all parties here.”
“What do you have in mind?” Professor Thorne asked.
“In three days, there’s a ball,” Starla began.
Instructor Kinrade’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean The Monster Ball?”
Starla offered a small smile. “I do, in fact. And I happen to have an invite.”
“What does The Monster Ball have to do with Rigo getting punched?” Professor Thorne asked.
Starla hesitated then turned to me. “Gem, be a dear and wait outside for a moment, would you?”
“Sure.” I slipped past them to the door, ignoring Rigo’s protests.
In the hall, I strained to hear the conversation going on without me, but the moment the door had shut, I felt the veil slip into place. They were purposely shutting me out.
I hovered in the hall, still covered in goo and too nervous to move a single step away. The fact that I hadn’t been expelled yet gave me a small bit of hope. And if Starla was going to bat for me, no matter how weird her idea sounded so far, that had to count for something.
Now, more than ever, I was glad I’d accepted her job offer. It was probably the only thing keeping me here. But a ball? How did a fancy party solve my problem and keep me from getting fired?
A few minutes later, the door reopened and Professor Thorne motioned for me to reenter. Inside the small office, Rigo’s face was flushed bright red, except for his eye, which was swollen and already turning purple.
It was my favorite look on him to date.
The others looked mildly unsure about whatever they’d discussed and were giving me a once-over like they’d never seen me before. I tried to keep my chin high, hoping I would pass their inspection. Being covered in demon guts probably didn’t help my case. As proof, Instructor Kinrade wrinkled her nose when I got close.
“Gem, you violated one of our most important rules today,” Professor Thorne began, and my stomach dropped. “Physically assaulting an instructor is grounds for immediate termination from the program.”
I tried to acknowledge her words around the lump in my throat. “I understand.”
“However,” she said, and I looked up sharply. “Starla has brought an interesting proposition to our attention. An opportunity that serves two purposes. First, it gives us a shot to make contact with a high-profile target toward an outcome that would impact every species of supes on this planet.”
Every species? Wow. Okay, no pressure.
“And two, it would allow you one more shot at taking your final exam after all.”
I stared at her, surprise and gratitude overwhelming me. “Thank you.”
“You understand that by all counts, you should be expelled at this very moment. This is a second chance. The only one you’ll get.�
��
“Yes, and I appreciate it more than you know.”
Rigo grumbled something about everyone working against him.
“The only reason we’re allowing you the opportunity to test at all is the fact that we can send you into the field to do so.”
“The field?” I repeated, confused. Weren’t all finals performed in the real world?
“Yes. In three days, you’ll be briefed and sent to a party called The Monster Ball.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“An annual gala thrown by supernaturals,” Starla explained.
“It’s all the who’s who of the supe world,” Professor Kinrade added in a hushed voice.
“Have you ever been?” I asked.
“No,” she said, eyeing me with a twinge of jealousy.
“And where is this party held exactly?” I asked.
“No one knows. The party location changes yearly. Even the identity of the proprietor is a mystery.”
“Then how do we know I can get in?” I asked.
Professor Thorne motioned at Rigo. “Give her the invitation.”
Rigo grudgingly handed me the slip of paper he’d been holding. I read it quickly then looked back at Professor Thorne and the others.
“I still don’t understand how I get there.”
“For security purposes, we can’t explain just yet,” Professor Thorne said. “You’ll be briefed when the time comes. And then you’ll attend the ball. If you’re successful at your task, you’ll pass the program and graduate. If you fail, you’ll be sent home. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. And thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” She hesitated. “Rigo will run the mission from here. He’s your point of contact. Your only point of contact.”
I tried not to let my displeasure show at her words. Of course it would be Rigo. The one person in this room who actually wanted me to fail.
“And you’ll be flying solo,” she went on. “That ticket admits only one, which means no one from the Tiff can accompany you as backup. Whatever happens, you’re on your own. Do you have any questions for me about this?”
Now I understood about sending me into the field.
“No. I’ll be ready.”
Professor Thorne nodded. “You’re dismissed.”
“Thank you,” I told her again. “Thank you all. I won’t let you down.”
Professor Thorne waved me off. “Wonderful. And for the angel’s sake, take a shower.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Gemini Hawkins, please report to the staging area for briefing.”
The voice over the loudspeaker echoed throughout the building—and inside every cell of my body. When the announcement was finished, I shared a tight smile with Starla, my wardrobe consultant for tonight.
We’d met twice since our first meeting. Both times so I could give her my thoughts on the instructors I’d met here. I had no clue what she was looking for, and I hadn’t offered anything earth-shattering, but both times Starla had nodded and taken down notes like I’d just cracked the case on something big.
She hadn’t spoken to me outside the secret briefings, but I could see the change in the way she watched me. Like we had a secret. Or like maybe she was trying to spot my weaknesses in case I failed to keep that secret.
Milo would have loved it, but with him and the others gone, I was itching to ace tonight’s final and get the hell out of the Tiff for good. Though I wasn’t sure where that would leave Starla and I.
“Gem, you’re ready,” she assured me now. “That dress is stunning.”
“Thank you,” I told her despite the nerves dancing in my belly.
She tossed her brown waves off her shoulder. “The red gets them every time, you know. All eyes are going to be on you.”
I frowned. “Is that a good idea? I mean, wouldn’t it be smarter to blend in so I don’t get noticed?”
Starla shook her head, a small smile on her pale pink lips. “Gem, you will never blend in. You’re too beautiful to go unnoticed, red dress or not. Best to embrace your strengths rather than downplay them.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
Or I could shapeshift into something ugly. Like Ollie.
Starla ran a hand lightly over my white-blonde hair, smoothing it back where she’d done it up into an intricate twist. A few loose strands framed my face, and she tucked one of them away again as she said, “The trick is to let them see only what you want them to. Make them watch your right hand, and they’ll never suspect what you’ve done with your left. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She patted my cheek just hard enough to set my teeth on edge. Then she ushered me toward the door. “Go get ‘em, darling. When you return, you and I will have a chat about what comes next.”
If I returned. But I didn’t want to think about that.
With a quick thanks, I hurried out, stopping in my room long enough to grab the single item I knew I’d be expected to bring to my briefing: my invitation to tonight’s ball. Then I made my way down the hall as fast as my skinny heels would allow.
The moment I stepped into the training room, my magic returned and my nerves kicked into high gear.
It didn’t matter how many training ops I aced, or hell, races I won, I still got nervous as hell before a mission. Tonight was no exception. In fact, dressed up in this monkey suit was making it worse. I hated heels. The trade-off was that I didn’t have to even try to appear human tonight.
In answer, the beast inside me reared up. Even with nearly any form available to me, there was only one that had a mind of its own. My griffin’s need for a fight nearly knocked me over. Apparently, I’d left him caged too long.
Forcing my beast to calm, I paused long enough to brace a hand against the wall and suck in a few large gulps of air before continuing on. The sliver of parchment clutched in my sweaty hand was going to disintegrate if I didn’t get my shit together.
But it was hard to forget how much was riding on tonight.
Being a recruit wasn’t my future. Being a detective assigned to top cases was. Tonight was the final step toward making that future a present. And if the looks I’d gotten from the recruits I’d passed in the hall were any indication, I was going to look damn good doing it.
As if to drive the point home, I rounded the corner onto the platform that led into our staging area, and Rigo’s eyes practically fell out of his head. He stood on the ground floor next to a glass counter lit by LEDs all the way around. The entire room was done that way. It would have been fancy and beautiful in an art gallery but—oh, who was I kidding? It was fancy and beautiful now, the way it lit up all the gleaming black guns and shiny silver knives mounted to the walls.
Rigo watched as I made my way down the single flight of stairs and across the gleaming white floor to where he stood. He wore his usual uniform: black pants and a black shirt paired with black steel-toed boots. He thought it made him look tougher. I thought it made him look like a goth who hadn’t matured past seventh grade sex-ed.
At least his black eye hadn’t completely healed.
I bit back a smirk as I studied the damage my fist had done.
“Damn girl.” He licked his lips, making no effort to hide his visual perusal. “You look…”
“Mission ready?” I offered, my eyes narrowing. I would have crossed my arms over my chest, but considering the push-up effect it would have on my already-exposed cleavage, I decided against it.
At my words, Rigo dialed back the panting. His eyes still gleamed with thinly veiled desire, but he nodded.
“Starla’s got a great eye,” he agreed, and I could all but see the drool he was holding back.
“Is everything ready?”
He nodded, picking up a tiny black object from the counter in front of him. He offered it to me, and I strode forward to take it, my red heels clicking over the floor. Rigo’s gaze wandered over my bare legs and then back up again as I grabbed the comm unit
and slid it into my ear.
Once in place, I clicked the button to activate the two-way speaker system—and the cloaking magic that would render the tiny thing invisible in my pointed fae ears.
“Test, test,” I said.
“Loud and clear,” he answered.
I pretended not to notice the smell of cologne splashed over cigarette smoke.
“Here. Take this.” He handed me a small silver clutch with glittering embellishments. I opened it and frowned at the contents. Lip gloss and a small cell phone.
I looked up at Rigo. “No weapons?”
“You can’t carry inside the party. It’s rule number one for attending.”
“Then how am I supposed to—”
“Not every mission will allow for weapons, Hawkins. That was part of your training. Now, you’ll have your comm unit, a cell phone which has my number already programmed, and you’ll have this.” He reached into my clutch and pulled out the lip gloss.
I watched as he yanked the cap free and gave the tube a half-twist. “If you get into real trouble, twist this all the way up and it’ll emit a laughing gas. It won’t last long, but it’ll give you a chance to make an exit if you need it.”
“Laughing gas?” My brows shot up. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”
He shrugged and recapped the gloss before dropping it into my purse. “Be glad you got that. Weapons are impossible to smuggle in.”
I arched a brow. Rigo wasn’t usually the type to play by someone else’s rules. “Security’s that tight?”
He shook his head. “There’s no security. Well, none you can see anyway.”
“Then why—”
“Because the magic that goes into this party is like nothing you’ve ever seen. The spell work will have the place locked down, so don’t even think about trying to get through it.”
“I’m sure I can handle it,” I began, but he just huffed at me.
“That’s not the mission,” he snapped. “And arguing will only lose you points. Something you can’t afford at this stage, or do I need to remind you what’s at stake tonight, recruit?”
Kiss of Death (Supernatural Security Force Book 1) Page 13