"No," I announced. "I still have three more sets to try on.”
"Ugh," the two of them said together. "Where are Otis and Adonis?"
"Oh no, no, no." I twirled right around on one foot and widened my stance to give them a vile glare. "Don't you dare summon Mr. Apocalypse and his smooth-talking brother."
"What's taking so damn long? At this rate, the moon will come out and it'll be time for my night shift."
The three of us glanced to our left to see two identical pairs of plum eyes staring back at us.
"I might as well summon the moon now so it can rise and make me into a glittering ornament."
"That's what humans call a disco ball, Otis, and that whole vampire glitter stuff was a myth with the sun. Not the moon. Well...except for that Edward guy. He actually glitters during the full moon. I can't believe humans got that all mixed up. He's a celebrity in the vampire world. Otis still has his autograph on his wal—"
"Not the point, Adonis," Otis snarled and looked my way. "Why is Cass naked?"
"When is Cass not naked?" Adonis smiled seductively at me. "She might as well give up on buying lingerie. She always finds a way to rip them to shreds."
"I am not naked!" I fought back as I pointed at them. "Let me correct your statement, Adonis. Why is it that my lingerie gets ripped to shreds? Oh, I don't know. Maybe because someone's long nails destroy them, which always leaves me naked with no lingerie!"
Adonis lifted his hands to stare at the source of my lingerie crisis.
"Hmm. My nails are kinda sharp. I really got to get them done. What color should I go with, guys?"
Tristan shook his head. "You've asked us the same question for seven years and you've yet to venture out of the purple and black department."
"Why not try red?" Dominick suggested.
"Or pink. Or any other colors in the rainbow," I offered.
Adonis bobbed his head in thought.
"I'll go with...purple."
"Ugh," the three of us groaned.
"What?" Adonis gave us a teasing grin. "It complements my skin."
"Of your hands, not your face," Otis reminded.
"Yes, but a little splash of color goes a long way," Adonis concluded. "I still think our parents were fools. Why name me after the god of beauty and desire when I still get pimples and the rest of you look ten percent more attractive than I do?"
I smirked and leaned against the door frame of my change room, arms crossed. "They knew, like the gods above, that you'd have too much seduction in your bones to have perfect looks. If they did that, you'd get cocky instead of having a hint of humility somewhere in that brain of yours."
"My brain is rather talented, thank you very much. I'm the smartest in the group, remember?"
"The brain that loves to signal you to rip my lingerie whenever you get a chance," I muttered. "And since when are you the smartest?"
"Since last week when he beat Dominick's perfect score with a bonus star." Tristan chuckled.
"Bonus star? Aren't we supposed to save those during the year and use them to boost our grades at the end?"
"Yup." Dominick seemed pleased. "Should have seen his proud face. Made all the girls faint in the cafeteria."
"It's not my fault that I was blessed with the ability to hoard my stickers and steal Otis's."
Otis side-glared at him, but Adonis didn't care. "Now, are we heading out to eat? Otis is serving an extra glass of crankiness due to his lack of blood. I'm thinking of grabbing him a Bloody Mary from Vampy Dee's."
"I will never understand how identical twins can carry completely different supernatural traits," I voiced as I looked between the two of them.
Otis Von Dolorosa and Adonis Von Dolorosa. Identical twins, and yet one was a vampire and the other was an incubus. The mystery behind it all would never be solved, seeing as their parents offered them up to the nearest dumpster when the twins didn't turn out to be hybrids as desired.
Just as with my predicament, Everett had been at the right place at the right time and took them in.
"Genetics, Princess," Adonis remarked while his plum eyes checked me out. I expected him to add another comment about my almost-naked appearance, but he moved his gaze to Tristan and Dominick. "Did Cass gain weight? It was the cake, wasn't it?"
"Yup," Tristan and Dominick responded like it was Jeopardy’s latest Let's Remind Cassandra Thorn of Her Flaws special edition.
"Fools," Otis insulted. "This is the one time I'll flee Death." He turned right around and slipped his hands in his pockets. "Hurry up, Cass. I have shit to do. If I end late for my night shift, I'll let Mr. Drack-A-Lot suck your blood like he's been wanting to since you were four."
I cringed at the thought and reached out for the closest man of the three, which was Adonis. "Hell to the no, no, no! That creep of a stalker isn't getting near me. He's a panty stealer!"
Otis looked over his shoulder; his usual emotionless expression remained.
"Says who?"
"Uh, everyone. Right, Adonis?"
"The women who fawn all over me at the club always bring him up." He put an arm over my shoulder and brought me close to him. "Cass is right on in that department. Drake's a perv. Plus, I'm surprised he hasn't gotten arrested for all the times he's tried to drink a girl's blood on sight. Why is he still working at the Blood Protection Services when he can't even purge that craving for strawberry juice?"
Strawberry juice was the code name for blood among most supernaturals when they were around humans. The guys were still getting used to saying blood around me, something Everett wouldn't allow them to do until I got my period.
Silly, right? It must have been in one of those "How to Raise A Human Child Correctly" handbooks he carries around all the time. The previous edition was so outdated.
"Anyways, get moving Cass." Otis got back to the point.
"I still have three more sets to try."
"It's the same shit." Otis was going to pop a blood vessel with his impatience. Typical.
"No, it's not," I argued, clearing my throat.
"Oh, no," Tristan interrupted. "Here comes the lecture on Panties 101."
"I'm glad you're prepared," I sweetly replied and gave him a wink.
Dominick walked over to stand next to Otis. At 6'2", he had a few inches on the twins.
Fae had the ability to grow taller or shorter if they chose to. Dominick loved to be tall, especially because he worked as a model at multiple agencies and had been on covers like GQ, Men’s Health, and other high-profile magazines. It was a good height for him anyway, unless he landed a role in a movie full of badass, 6’6" warriors.
Dominick looks good in gold armor. What was I about to talk about again?
"I'm heading to the men's department. I need some boxers."
"Coming!" Tristan scrambled out of his seat.
"Hmph." Otis was already walking away, not caring where they went.
"Hey! I didn't start my lesson," I called out.
"Hurry up!" the three of them replied and then were out of my sight. I looked up at Adonis as he gave me a flirty smirk.
"Looks like I'm your only student, Professor Thorn." He winked and waltzed over to the chair Tristan had been sitting in. Lowering into the pink fluffiness, he leaned back like he sat on a throne and graciously lifted his right leg to rest on his left, his eyes absorbing every curve and line of my body.
"Proceed with your lecture as you try on the remaining three sets. I'll wait."
"Tease," I muttered, annoyed with how sexy he could be using that seductive voice of his.
It was the one thing about incubi that made them so dangerous. Whether they looked like gods or sewer monsters, all they had to do was use that low rumble voice of theirs and sold. You'd automatically find them attractive, and whether you kept your panties on or off was entirely in their hands.
Dangerous or not, Adonis was one of my four "brothers," or bros, for short. Obviously, we were all from different family backgrounds, and Everett never officia
lly adopted us. He didn't think we deserved to be locked down into a family simply because we'd been gathered together by circumstance.
Not adopting us gave us the freedom to keep our family names, something that was still important in the supernatural world, even though our parents had discarded us. It also meant that if we suddenly didn't meet eyes with Everett anymore, we could go our separate ways with no hard feelings.
We all knew that wouldn't happen, simply because Everett was the calmest supernatural I'd ever met.
Unless you stole his jar of honey as a prank. Then you might as well dig your grave, lie in it, and cover yourself up before he finds you.
Anyway, my brothers were as different as they came. Tristan Cardinal. Twenty-four, laid-back shapeshifter. He was the playful one of the bunch. Never too serious unless he wanted to commit a murder. The dangerous thing about shapeshifters was they could literally shift into anything they wanted.
A boy, a girl, your ex, a damn tree. From what he'd gathered from Everett regarding his family, they were some of the top shapeshifters in their community. As to why they'd decided Tristan wasn't a good fit for them was a mystery.
Everett had found him during the one of the worst snowstorms in NYC. I was surprised he hadn't frozen to death, but then again, what did he decide to magically shift into? A campfire.
It seemed completely odd for a bear to roam through the blizzard and see a burning flame in the corner of an alleyway, but it had happened. However, shifting into objects was something only a few shapeshifters could do, and it was costly on the body.
Tristan had almost died after having a two-week fever once he'd changed back. In his normal appearance, he was 6'0" like Otis and Adonis, and was frequently mistaken for an angel supernatural due to his last name, blue eyes, and shoulder-length blond hair.
Why he doesn't just change it is beyond me. I personally think he likes messing with people.
With his caramel complexion, it was hard for people to tell what ethnicity he was, and to be honest, none of us really knew either. He was a shapeshifter, after all, and that meant if he wanted to be Caucasian one day and African the next, he literally could.
Another thing that makes him dangerous. He's constantly being asked to join various police forces, navies, and secret ops organizations.
Then there was Dominick Goldenmoon. Twenty-three, and a smart cookie with perfect skin and flawless features. He'd been voted the sexiest fae alive for three years running.
His has an unusual, emerald green, butt-length hair. Top it all off with tiny strands of gold tinsel that changed color on his every command, and you had yourself a walking Christmas god.
Let's be real. If you hate Christmas, it's because you couldn't get an autograph from this hot thing of a fae.
Orange eyes like sunsets (complete with gold stars for a little added romance) and his ability to shift his height simply added to the fantasy he gave women — and men — every day with his face up on billboards and wall art.
And why had his parents given him up? Because he was too cute.
His parents said he attracted way too much attention with his cuteness, and due to their status and jobs at the time, it was necessary to keep him out of the public eye.
Or just everyone's eye.
Who knew if they were undercover spies, or maybe just didn't want to carry the burden of raising Dominick, but whatever the case, I had always wondered if they regretted it with how famous and successful Dominick had become.
He was the youngest billionaire in the world, and even with his jaw-dropping, panty-throwing looks, he could walk around the mall without getting mobbed. He might have to deal with a few autograph-seekers and human stalkers, of course, but the one thing about supernaturals was that they respected one's space.
Unless they're sent to kill you.
We'd only had one close call with a crazy stalker, but many forgot that Dominick was a fae and what they called a master. It was a fancy title to say he had the ability to control all the elements connected to nature. So fire, water, earth, the cool stuff.
He's basically a sexy Aang from Avatar. The animated series, of course.
Then there were my Von Dolorosa twin bros.
Otis and Adonis, twenty-five-year-old identical twins who somehow each took the entire genetic pool of one parent. Otis was a vampire like his father, while Adonis took his incubus trait from his succubus mother.
Their parents had obviously enjoyed a fling, a common activity among supernaturals to create potential badass hybrid children. When they gave birth to the twins, they expected both would be hybrids, and take over their fortune and coven while also having the ability to control with merely their voices…but their baby cocktail didn't go as planned.
Which was why the twins were ditched and raised by Everett.
The looked exactly the same with their short black hair — that they either spiked up or gelled back depending on their moods — and their daunting purple eyes, but they were complete opposites.
Adonis was chilled back and only cared about having a good time. He took things slow unless it meant getting to the bedroom faster, and he could whisk any supernatural off their feet with a little hint of tune.
Adonis was actually a balladeer who sang deep, soul-hitting romance songs. Some could break your heart and others could get you from zero to one thousand in the bedroom with the first three words.
Seeing as he only started at the beginning of this year, he was only a millionaire at the moment, but I was sure he'd end up on the Forbes list with Dominick by the new year.
Though he was relaxed most of the time, he actually was a hard worker when he wasn't reading or writing lyrics.
Or slicing all the lingerie I own for shits and giggles.
He also loved to paint his nails the aforementioned black or purple. No one ever teased or questioned him as to why he liked to do his nails, and it really wasn't anyone's business. It made him happy, and none of us cared.
Unless he ever chooses another color. Then we'll have questions.
His brother, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.
Otis was a jackass. No, that word wasn't close to defining his asshole personality. Maybe it was a vampire thing, or maybe he just liked being an angry jerk, but he was the definition of anger management problems.
His only two expressions were a frown and an emotionless glare, and if he did crack a smile, it was either because he was genuinely happy — which happened about three times a year in our group — or because he was excited to stab people with his nails and drain every bit of their blood.
To donate...
That was one of the odd things about Otis. Though his outer appearance was like a harsh whip of approaching death, he did a lot for the supernatural community, especially for vampires.
He was the youngest CEO of the biggest blood supplier in the world, with his biggest lab right here in NYC. Even though it was a multi-billion-dollar company that donated globally to both humans and supernaturals alike, he still went in to the office to personally make sure everything went smoothly.
Heck, sometimes he even helps take blood from volunteers.
He was an attractive beast with unblemished pale skin that made his purple eyes pop, except for the rare occasions that his eyes turned striking red, and ninety-five percent of the volunteer blood donors were women.
Not to forget that Model Companion Collab Otis and Dominick did on Valentine's Day that broke donation records across the world.
He may have been an ass, but he had a big heart, and that was all that mattered.
My four bros were impeccable supernaturals in society, and I was, well...me.
Cassandra Thorn. Just turned twenty; 5’7” with a small waist but one inch gained on the thighs and hips. Unemployed human with a sassy attitude, a lip that wouldn't shut up even when I needed it to, and top-notch sarcasm.
Don't get me wrong, though, I had some good qualities aside from my BTS diagnosis.
I had a knack for kickboxing or anything athletic, really. I could eat like no other girl, beating the record at the latest Japanese restaurant competition and earning all of us a free dinner pass for next year. I was good at drawing symbols, but anything more than that was asking too much. And I could sleep through wars.
Did I mention I was incoherent as fuck when I was half asleep? Wait...not a good quality.
Despite all my amazing positives, I had very few job qualifications, and even though I got into the supernatural university the guys went to for fast-paced studies, I still couldn't find a job I liked.
Now that Tristan had lined up a job interview with one of the best secret op agencies in the world, I was soon to be the only one in the group without employment.
It would only be a matter of time before things got boring. I had a hint of ADHD, so the whole staying home and doing nothing all day long wasn't going to last me long before I went insane.
No one wants to deal with insane Cassandra. She's bad. Believe me.
That left me with very few options, but in Princess Cass style, I'd shove them to the side and worry about them tomorrow.
It wasn't like I desperately need money. Having a rich guardian to look after you meant getting a weekly allowance that was far too much for the average human.
For a supernatural though, it's probably pennies — or should I say five cents, seeing as they got rid of those coins. Were too human for the supernatural government.
It was only a matter of time before hundred-dollar bills became the new ten dollars.
Most supernaturals were rich, and those who weren't had either lost the chance by committing a crime or had sided with the humans during the first wave of changes.
It wasn't necessarily hard to earn money, but it was easy to lose it all.
Like by buying lingerie every week, for instance.
"I know I love looking at myself when I'm not having a pimple party on my face, but how long are you gonna stare at the mirror for, Cass?"
Slowly turning my head back to look at the seduction god of an incubus, I stuck my tongue out. "Did you know if you stare at yourself every day, you can change your perception of yourself? I'm doing that. It's part of my ritual."
Psychic Prison Page 28
