by Simone Pond
To avoid any Shadow Order dickheads, I took a cab to the library, deciding it was probably best to steer clear of places with heavy supernatural activity like public transit, train stations, bars, and alleys—just in case any demons decided to attack in broad daylight. I wasn’t sure if all supernatural beings could detect my Armor, or just those affiliated with Cagliostro’s Shadow Order. I couldn’t imagine what it would look like to an innocent bystander. A batshit crazy chick swinging at the air.
At the library, I set up two separate machines to flip through the black and white film of the San Francisco Alta and the San Francisco Call. I had hit the jackpot and was taking copious notes on my historical findings. Once I had time to organize everything, it was going to be a great story—fluffy for sure, but at least interesting.
While I was taking a bathroom break, I heard what can only be described as a blood-curdling scream. I ran out into the hallway to investigate, but nobody else had taken notice, which told me they didn’t hear the scream—because it was most likely something supernatural. Great.
The scream sounded again, slicing through my ears, then the floors began to rumble like an earthquake. An enormous panther-like creature rounded the corner, chasing after a girl with long, sparkly blue hair. The beast had glossy black fur, yellow eyes, and rows of sharp teeth. It released another shriek as it raced down the hall in my direction. The girl zipped past me in a blur of twinkling blue, while I stood my ground, waiting for the approaching shifter demon thingy. I manifested my sword and stood right in its path. He pounced at me, landing directly on my blade. Green goo sprayed out and splattered all over my lavender cardigan. The creature collapsed to the floor, injured but not dead. The girl he had been chasing whirled around and came back to me, squinting her dazzling blue eyes and giggling as she looked me up and down. Up close, I realized she wasn’t a girl, but a rather stunning creature with pale sparkly skin and gossamer wings. I could only assume it was a faerie. Ezra hadn’t mentioned anything about faeries.
Before I could ask her anything, the panther clawed at my ankle and pulled me toward his salivating mouth. My magical boot slipped off my foot and was about to become the creature’s lunch, but I used my sword to bat away my boot, enraging the panther. It went for my other foot, but I held up the shield, creating a powerful force field. The panther winced and shot back. I took out my sword and careened right into its forehead, causing more green goo to erupt. But that did the trick; he disappeared from existence.
Turning around to check on the faerie, I only saw a flash of twinkling blue light zip down the hallway of the library—with my boot in tow. I chased after the faerie, but I couldn’t keep up. I was only half as fast with one boot. The faerie giggled as she zipped out the front door, still carrying my boot.
Defeated, I went back to the bathroom to rinse off some of the green goo, but only made it worse. I wondered why the Armor couldn’t protect me from demonic guts. Standing in the bathroom, I realized how many questions I still had about the supernatural world, but I wasn’t about to call on Ezra and hear a lecture about losing one of my boots. I’d have to figure out how to get it back from that nitwit faerie before he found out.
A woman shuffled into the bathroom. “Whoa, what happened to you?” she asked.
I was about to tell the nosey thing that I had just killed a panther in the hallway, but decided to keep my big mouth shut. My clothes were ruined, and I needed to go home and change. That also meant I’d have to face Asher and explain why I didn’t show up for dinner the previous night.
eighteen
The commotion coming from my house was sure to send my neighbors into a tailspin, but they couldn’t say a thing—Asher had already procured the permits. I tried to sneak into the house to grab some clean clothes from one of my boxes before getting noticed, but the moment I entered the dining room, Asher just happened to be breaking a hole into the dining room wall. His blue eyes widened from underneath his work goggles.
I waved and yelled over the hammering, “Hi. Sorry about last night. I had to work late and my phone died. I didn’t get your texts until this morning.”
He pushed the goggles up, making his jet black hair splay out like a peacock. I expected him to be angry, but he smiled and came around into the dining room.
“Sorry, didn’t hear a thing you said.”
“I’m sorry about last night. I was totally engrossed in my work. I get like that. A lot.”
He grinned as he patted my shoulder. “No worries. I pegged you for a hard worker. Sorry if my texts were too much. I figured you were working and wanted to see if I could get you something to eat, especially since your kitchen is out of commission.”
I couldn’t stop smiling—Asher was too good to be true. Most guys I had dated in college couldn’t stand if I put anything before them.
One of the workers walked by carrying some beams of rotting wood. He gave me a strange look but kept walking.
“You might want to put on a shirt,” Asher said.
I looked down and realized I was talking to Asher in my bra. The glow from my breastplate was blatantly obvious, but he hadn’t noticed it. Which meant he wasn’t a demon, shifter, warlock or any sort of supernatural. I quickly yanked a clean shirt over my head and put on a jacket.
He removed the work goggles and brushed his hand through his beautiful, thick hair. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Huh?” I couldn’t stop staring at the gorgeous man standing before me.
“Food? You hungry?”
“Oh, sure. I could eat.” I wasn’t remotely hungry, but I would’ve agreed to anything if it meant spending more time with Asher.
“I know a place down the street,” he said.
I started following him outside, then remembered Lilith. I didn’t want to risk “bumping” into her again while I was with Asher. I didn’t trust that succubus as far as I could throw her, and I was betting with the Armor it’d be a pretty far toss.
“How about we go to Hayes Valley?” I suggested.
***
Seeing Asher sitting across from me in the charming cafe was like a scene right out of a movie, the kind where the hot football player falls in love with the diamond-in-the-rough honor-roll student. Only we were adults, and Asher was way hotter than any football player I had ever known. Even in his work clothes—tan Carhartts and a gray shirt—he was perfection. His blue eyes were so clear they almost looked fake. I noticed a slight flicker flash across his eyes, which threw me off for a second, but they flickered again as the sun came out from behind another cloud. I released a sigh. It was just the sunlight. He’s not a supernatural being, I repeated on a loop. I considered putting on my helmet, but decided it would be way too much sensory overload sitting that close to Asher.
“What are you working on that has you burning the midnight oil?” he asked.
Since I wasn’t about to tell him about my trip to Glimmer City or getting attacked by a fire-throwing demon in the park, I went the ambiguous route. “Some top secret stuff,” I teased.
He raised his dark eyebrows, smirking in amusement. I was seriously tempted to ask if we could just skip lunch and get a hotel room. “No hints?”
“Let just say it involves some bad guys.” That wasn’t a total lie, since I was planning to expose Emmett Stone and whatever he was up to.
“Have you decided where you’re going to live during the remodeling?” He took a sip of coffee, and I caught myself licking my lips, until his question sunk in.
“Oh, I can’t stay at the house? Is that not okay?”
Asher laughed and waited for the punchline. “Oh, you’re serious?” he asked.
“No, of course not.” I paused, then fessed up. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it. I planned on camping out in the living room.”
“You realize you won’t have running water for at least a couple weeks?”
“Oh.”
“You could always stay—”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t stay with you,” I interrup
ted before he had a chance to finish the sentence.
He chuckled. “I was going to suggest your friend Lilith. Didn’t she say she was house-sitting down the street?”
My cheeks turned into a blazing inferno. I held up the menu, pretending to be intrigued by the salads. The tension tightened like someone was adjusting a vice grip around my throat, but fortunately the waiter came to the table to take our order. As I was reeling with embarrassment for assuming Asher was offering his place, I detected something off with the waiter. His aura shimmered. Asher sat up straight like he also noticed, but then gave his order. I blurted out the first salad on the list, as my throat constricted, and everything got bit blurry.
“You okay, Fiona?” Asher asked.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You look a little pale.” He handed me a glass of water, which I chugged down, then choked in the most ungraceful manner.
“Sorry. But you threw me off. The thought of staying with Lilith for a few weeks. Um. Yeah, we’re not exactly close, if you didn’t catch that at the restaurant.”
Asher stared out the window, lost in his thoughts. His eyes did that flicker thing again, but it was just the sun.
“I have a guest house,” he said.
I wasn’t sure how to proceed with the conversation. It was already awkward enough that I had the hots for my contractor. Could I live in his guest house? I didn’t know what to say. My brain was in overdrive just trying to deal with the current set of problems on the table. Maybe living in his guest house would only add to the maelstrom of insanity.
“I don’t know, Asher. I mean … I’m your client.”
He reached out across the table and held my hand. “You’re more than a client, Fiona. When I saw you at that coffee shop, I was planning to ask you out on a date before I knew you needed a contractor.”
I giggled softly, feeling incredibly turned on. He kissed my fingers, causing all sorts of heat to rush up my legs. “I have to be honest with you, Asher.”
“What’s that?”
I smiled wickedly. “I’m not hungry.”
He waved over the waiter. “Can we get that order to go?”
nineteen
We left the restaurant and on the way to his house in the Marina, he gave instructions and next steps to his crew, while I sent out texts. One to Somer letting her know I’d be out doing interviews for my story the rest of the day if she needed me, and one to Charlotte, who I still hadn’t heard from since the bathroom incident that morning.
Asher pulled into the driveway of a modern square-shaped building made mostly of windows and metal that looked out to the San Francisco Bay. It was an architectural masterpiece.
He put away his phone and asked, “Are you sure about this?”
“About what? Checking out your guest house?” I flirted.
He leaned across the seat and held my chin, moving in for a kiss. His full lips engulfed mine, and we locked together. His hands caressed my waist as the energy between us rose to fiery heights—like that night in my basement. He began to unbutton my blouse as he kissed my neck.
“Wait,” I panted.
He pulled back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Fiona.”
“Don’t be. It’s just … hmm, how can I put this?” I took in a full breath and decided to come clean. “I’d rather my first time not be in a truck. It’s a nice truck and all, but you know.”
Asher returned to his seat, smoothing his hair back. He was definitely flustered. His pale skin had a slight blush to it, and he couldn’t make eye contact. I got it. Twenty-one-year-old virgins aren’t something you come by every day. Most guys in college would’ve loved to de-flower me, had Lilith not intervened. But not Asher—he was respectful. Either that or completely freaked out.
“Are you okay?” I choked out the words.
“I didn’t know you were a virgin.”
“Well, it wasn’t in the contract, so that’s understandable.”
He turned toward me and grinned, relief spreading across his handsome face. “This has never happened to me,” he muttered to himself.
“What?”
He turned on the ignition and was about to pull away. I couldn’t let him do that. I wanted to finish our kiss.
“Wait!” I shouted, a little too desperately.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I didn’t know if he meant dating a client or taking my virginity—or both? I stumbled for words to convince him to stay put.
“At least let me see the guest house. I really do need a place to stay.”
He stared ahead for a few seconds, seconds that dragged like hours. Finally, he turned off the engine and stepped out of the truck. He came to my side and opened the door, then led me through a gate toward the backyard.
Behind his ginormous house was one of those containers you’d see in a shipping yard, but it had been painted a stylish burnt orange to match the accents on his house, and it had skylights and a wooden patio in the front. Very hip. Probably too hip for me.
Asher fiddled with his keys, opening the front door and stepping inside. The space was bright and airy with beautiful pine wood floors and lots of light. It was minimalist, but comfortable and inviting. It was a perfect place to live while I waited for my house to be remodeled.
The bedroom was in the back and opened up to another patio. I wanted to dive onto the fluffy white comforter with Asher in tow, but decided to ease back, since my virginity status had made him uncomfortable.
“It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely. Are you sure I can stay here?”
“I’d be delighted. I’ll be working on your place most of the time, so you don’t need to worry—we won’t see too much of each other.”
I reached out for Asher’s hand. “But don’t you get it? I want to see you.”
“I’m not so sure about this.”
“Because I’m a virgin? I don’t understand why this is such a big deal. We don’t have to sleep together.”
His eyes flickered as he pulled me close against his chest. “Really?”
I could’t help but laugh. “You seem relieved. Am I that much of a freak?”
He kissed me, smothering my mouth in a very good way. Pulling back gently, he whispered, “You’re not a freak. I don’t want the responsibility of being your first. I’ve never been in this … situation.”
“Situation?” I playfully shoved him, and he landed on the couch where I joined him for a lengthy make-out session.
When his phone buzzed, both of us sat up straight like we had been caught in the act of doing something wrong.
“Work,” he said, reading the text. “They’re finished for the day, if you want to go pick up some clothes and whatever else you need?”
I watched sadly as Asher pulled his gray shirt over his head, bringing us back to reality. It was after five o’clock, which meant another day had slipped away, and I still hadn’t made any progress on my story, except for the research. Somer wanted a first draft by the end of the week, which meant I only had the following day to pull it together; I still hadn’t heard back from Charlotte; and there was also the issue of my missing boot. And Emmett Stone. Oh, and Cagliostro and the freaking Shadow Order. My chest pounded from the weight of anxiety.
“Hey, do you think I could ask you a few questions for my story?” I asked.
“The top-secret one?” he joked.
“Another one. It’s about historical homes in San Francisco. I need some background information on structural integrity. I’m using my house in the story, so maybe I could interview you?”
“Sure, let’s do it on the way to your place to pick up some clothes.”
As we walked back to his truck, a flash of violet light sparkled, and Ezra appeared. I looked the other way, not wanting to deal with Ezra at the moment. Asher did a strange stop-short move, like he was guarding himself from something, but then quickly recovered his footing. “Be careful, there’s a loose stone,” he said. “I’ll fix that up so you don’t tr
ip.”
Ezra’s eyes started gleaming brighter, calling out to me, but I kept my head turned away, avoiding eye contact. Leave it to Glimmer Eyes to ruin a perfectly good evening. I wasn’t up for discussing Protector business. He was probably going to scold me for not having on my helmet and losing a boot. I let Asher walk a few feet ahead of me so I could slip on my helmet without him noticing—not that he’d notice the glowing helmet, but he’d probably wonder what the hell I was doing. Either way, putting on the damn helmet seemed to get rid of Ezra … for the moment.
Back at my house, Asher waited in the truck while I ran inside to pack a few bags. The second I walked into the foyer, I detected a strong scent of musk. Something was off. I hurried to the dining room and pulled some clothes out of the boxes and shoved them into some overnight bags. The scent grew stronger, but I kept packing. When I got up to leave, there were two men in business suits standing before me. Their hair glistened with shellac and their faces shimmered a little bit.
“Demons or vampires?” I asked. I wasn’t afraid of them because I had on the Armor. As far as I was concerned, I was untouchable.
“Warlocks,” they said in unison.
That was my first face-to-face run in with warlocks, so I wasn’t sure about their supernatural abilities. I was sure each one was different, but I didn’t want to stick around to find out.
“Look, I’m in the middle of something, so can you please get out of my way?”
