You know they’re not. What was happening with Romero didn’t have such a simple explanation.
“Thank you for your help. I appreciate a degree of chattiness in an arms dealer. In your case, I would strongly suggest a career change. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to remember my advice, so let’s hope you’re as bright as you seem and come to the conclusion on your own.”
His eyes flared as she knelt next to him, then began wrapping the charm around his wrist.
18
Loki knew Serin had forbidden this form, but he couldn’t resist taking her skin out for another spin—not after he raided her closet.
Grinning like a fool, he put on one of her old dresses and turned up the music, dancing around carefully to avoid opening his wound again.
Even the air felt different in this apartment. Wiggling his hips, he stroked the gemstone countertop bar that separated the kitchen from the sunken living room. The leather and wood barstools were perfectly matched. Serin must have picked them out. She had such an amazing innate sense of style.
He loved it here. The Elemental safehouses were always choice penthouse suites overlooking a city or cool little houses tucked away in glorious natural spaces. He’d been milking his injury for all it was worth, playing on Serin’s sympathies and extreme busyness to stay on here.
Whenever she was around, he would throw himself on the nearest flat surface, usually the expansive leather couch, making sure to be shirtless to better show off the still-healing wound in his side. He walked only when necessary, his pace that of a geriatric sloth.
The minute she was out the door, he dropped the act. True, he still wasn’t fully healed, so he had to shake his booty with care, but he wasn’t immobile, either.
It was a little odd how long the injury was lingering. As a lower-caste fae, he didn’t have the same sensitivity to iron his royal superiors did. He’d always imagined if he were shot, he’d snap right back, but what did he know? Getting a bullet wound hadn’t been high on his let’s-try-this-and-see-what-happens list.
After Serin had went out earlier, he’d realized her well-stocked fridge was out of several of the major food groups—namely sugar and grease.
I have to ask her who fills this fridge. There had been fresh fruit, vegetables, and cheese, but he had no idea how it had gotten there. He’d never seen Serin come home with anything as plebeian as a grocery bag.
On the grounds he needed junk food to heal, he ordered a pizza before going on a quick bodega run. He returned with bags of gummy worms and cheese puffs, which he would need to finish or hide before Serin returned home.
Munching on a fist full of cheesy crunchy goodness, he opened a bottle of excellent wine he found in the cupboard after he’d picked and put on an ethereal teal silk gown that floated and fluttered around him like a swarm of butterflies was holding it up.
Loki grabbed more cheese puffs, then stuffed them in his mouth. Damn, he thought as cheese dust rained over the silk. He shook the bodice away from his body with his only clean fingers to dislodge the mess, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
She wouldn’t, he assured himself. Serin hadn’t been wearing this kind of thing lately. She’d adopted a style similar to her other sisters—lots of leather and kick-ass boots with steel toes, some of which he’d found in the closet as well. He didn’t dare touch those just in case they belonged to Diana. That one had a short fuse.
Dancing his way to Serin’s mirror, he admired his glamour, pouting and preening while glorying in the dramatic contrast of the tropical shade against his dark skin before gently shaking his booty around some more.
With luck, Serin would be out for a few more hours. She’d been gone all day yesterday, following yet another Puck lead.
Loki had to hand it to the bastard. Puck had laid so many false trails, most people had no hope of ever tracking him. But Loki’s favorite Elemental was tenacious. Serin never gave up. It was why he loved her…or wanted to be her. Either worked for him.
The doorbell rang. Wineglass in hand, Loki sashayed to the door, throwing it open with a seductive come-hither pose Serin wouldn’t be caught dead doing.
“You’re not the pizza guy.”
The man on the other side widened his eyes, his thick lashes fluttering as he took in Loki’s scantily clad Serin suit.
Oh shit… It was the cop trailing her—the one who had saved Loki’s life.
“Uh…” Loki hurriedly straightened up, taking a step back before panicking and slamming the door shut.
Romero started knocking. “Serin. I—I can’t believe you’re here. I was searching for someone else. We need to talk. Please open the door.”
Whoa. Since when was this human on a first-name basis with an Elemental?
Curiosity took a nibble before quickly consuming him. Loki cautiously opened the door a crack. Romero pushed it wide, stepping inside like he owned the place.
“Rude,” Loki chided, pointing at him with the wineglass. He retreated to the sunken living room, hyper-aware of the orange cheese dust on his free hand.
“I’m sorry,” Romero said, his brow creased as he watched Loki, still in Serin’s likeness, search for a towel. “It’s just that I needed to talk to you. You disappeared so…thoroughly the last time, and I didn’t know where to find you. I didn’t want it to be in the middle of another firefight.”
The cop stepped closer in a rush. Loki stumbled back, the wine in his glass sloshing as the man put his hands on either side of Loki’s—Serin’s—face.
Romero’s expression wasn’t one of friendly concern or even confusion. In fact, his eyes weren’t even on Loki’s face. The agent’s gaze was fixed on the well-filled neckline of the dress.
“Excuse you,” Loki chirped, affronted despite the fact the cleavage in question wasn’t his.
The agent finally deigned to meet his eyes. Frowning, he let go and stepped back. “What the hell? Who…who are you?”
Loki’s mouth dropped open. How could the cop tell? Loki’s glamours were foolproof. He doubted even Serin’s parents could see through him that fast.
This was big. Loki circled the agent excitedly, studying every muscular limb with avid eyes. “Wow. What are you?”
The man read as human, but there was clearly more to him if he could see past Loki’s glamour.
“Loki.”
Flushing, he started and turned to the door with a slow pivot
Busted. Serin was standing in the doorway, her eyes like arctic ice.
“I told you to stop wearing me.”
“What the fuck?” The agent whipped his head back and forth from him to the real, far-more-angry version standing in the threshold. Romero’s nostrils flared as if he were trying to smell which one of them was the real Serin.
Loki put his arms down. His was the more fashionable outfit, but Serin’s fully clad leather form was somehow ten times sexier than the gown he was wearing. “How do you look better than me? This is silk…”
Agent Romero moved to Serin’s side, his irritated expression remarkably similar to hers. “What is going on? Who is this?”
Loki threw his head back and tittered, his hair doing a pale imitation of the rippling wave the Water Elemental’s did when she moved.
“Loki. Take me off now,” Serin snapped.
He blinked, dropping the suggestive pose with a scowl. “But he’s watching,” he pouted.
She slashed at the air, an abrupt get-on-with-it gesture.
“Fine,” he huffed, dropping the glamour with a ripple. He held out his arms like a cheerleader, revealing his favored male-greaser persona. “Ta da!”
Romero watched him with something like horror in his eyes. Loki stifled a giggle, remembering how close he’d come to getting mauled by the man.
He was on the cop immediately, cozying up to him and batting his baby blues. “You can still kiss me if you like,” he teased.
The agent pushed away, pointing at him with his mouth open. “You’re the guy from the shooting outside the club.”
&nb
sp; He turned to Serin. “I didn’t know where to find you, but I stumbled on footage of this guy on local traffic cams. He was down at the corner store when I pulled up. I decided to follow him, but I didn’t expect…whatever that was.”
Serin’s lips were a thin line. Glowering at Loki, she swept past them to set her pack down on the kitchen counter.
“Your room. Go before I change my mind and deal with you now.”
Shamefaced, Loki nodded like a bobble-head, but the bag’s pungent odor distracted him. He stopped in the middle of the living room. “Whew. What did you bring home?”
She put her hands on her hips. “I stopped at an herbalist in Chinatown to make you a poultice because you’ve been healing so slowly. But if you’re well enough to be wearing my skin and making junk food runs, you can make it your damn self.”
Chastised, he came forward to take the bag. Hugging the smelly contents to his chest, he gave her a quick peck before skipping backward. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
He turned back at the doorway of the guest room. “Don’t worry…I’ll turn the music up loud. Won’t hear a thing,” he said, winking and mugging at the pair suggestively.
The Elemental rolled her eyes. “That won’t be necessary,” Serin huffed, but Romero’s mouth twitched.
Loki flashed into the body of an old wrinkled man. He cupped a hand over his ear. “What was that?” he warbled in a thin frail voice. “I’m quite deaf you know.”
“Loki.”
He ignored the warning tone, materializing a cane out of thin air to wave at the pair. “Sorry, sugar doll. I can’t hear youuu…”
19
Serin was in a foul mood. Not only had she accidentally wrecked the phone and possibly her only lead to Puck, but now the safe house was breached by Agent Romero, who’d apparently been cozying up to Loki in his drag form.
Romero was shaking his head. He thumbed in the direction of Loki’s closed door. “So the guy from the shoot-out is one of you?” he asked.
Serin’s lips tightened, debating. What was worse? Too little knowledge or too much?
He’s traveled in your medium.
Romero had already seen too much. Once opened, some doors couldn’t be closed. A man with his tenacity wasn’t about to give up without answers, and the last thing she needed was to have him running around, dogging her steps, trying to get those answers on his own.
She let out a long-suffering sigh. “No. He’s a Loki.”
The line between his brows deepened. “I thought his name was Loki.”
“It is. It’s also his species. All Lokis are named Loki.”
“That makes no sense.” He frowned. “How do you tell them apart? Especially when they can do all that shapeshifting?”
She sniffed and picked up her backpack, unloading the herbs and dinner supplies she’d picked up on the kitchen counter. The phone she’d confiscated was at the bottom of the pack, wrapped in napkins the herbalist had kindly provided.
“He’s not a shifter. He’s fae. What he does is a glamour—an illusion.”
Romero continued to frown, now at the pears and blueberries she was unpacking.
“What is that?” he asked.
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s fruit.”
“But not like, magic fruit?”
“No. It’s regular fruit.” She was tempted to laugh but bit her tongue, remembering Diana’s run-in with the Apple of Discord. Not all fruit was just fruit.
“What do you do with it?” he asked, studying the food like he expected it to start levitating or glowing at any second.
She did laugh this time, continuing to unpack the fish filets she’d picked up for dinner. “I eat it. I do eat.”
Romero drew back. “Oh.”
He sat on the stool across from her. Whatever hesitation he’d felt seemed to melt away. His body relaxed, lounging, making himself too comfortable.
“Is there enough for two?” he asked, a suggestive note creeping into his voice.
“Yes.” His face lit up at the word.
“For me and Loki,” she finished.
The little glow faded, but Romero was irrepressible. He lifted one shoulder. “Don’t worry about him. He ordered pizza.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how he expects to get better eating like an unsupervised child.”
“You sound like his mother.” He blinked, a thought occurring to him. “You’re not… right?”
“No.” Again, she laughed, unable to stop herself.
He shrugged. “Sorry, I’m trying to piece this stuff together. You said you were old.”
Serin raised an eyebrow in warning. He coughed. “Well…older.”
Romero opened his mouth to say something else when the doorbell rang. Loki, back to his normal youthful self, sailed across the room with his hand over his eyes. “Don’t mind me. It’s just my pizza.”
Serin waited until he finished paying the deliveryman. “Loki, what did I tell you about ordering takeout?”
“Uh… Don’t have anything delivered to the super-secret safe house or it won’t be super-secret anymore?” he said, grinning sheepishly. “In my defense, I didn’t think you’d be home tonight.”
He held out the pizza box, opening it and offering a slice with a winsome smile.
Romero stood, reaching over to take a slice. “There, now you don’t have to cook for me.” He scarfed down the greasy triangle while Loki made himself scarce again.
The slice was gone before she’d finished washing her vegetables. Her uninvited guest came around the counter to wash his hands at the sink.
“You haven’t told me why you’re here, Agent Romero,” she said, focusing on her own meal preparations.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when his arms came around on either side of her, trapping her against the counter.
“I told you—the name’s Daniel,” he said in a low voice before he bent his head and kissed the skin next to her ear.
Serin spun around, intending to give him a piece of her mind, but she lost the thread the moment his lips touched her.
Time slowed down. A wave of sensations crashed through her, pinning her in place. The feeling was familiar and new at the same time—a rightness that was difficult to describe but easy to recognize.
Ah, hell. Romero was her mate.
She should have been surprised. No Water Elemental had been mated to a human in…ever. In all of their recorded history, their mates were selected for their supernatural gifts. It was their duty to pass on their talents and abilities to any offspring they might have. Her parents had selected Jordan because he had been a skilled practitioner. If her parents had known the truth…
Serin had to remind her body that it had a skeleton. That the disembodied boneless feeling was a trick. Apparently, Romero had skills of his own. He was a damn good kisser.
And he can travel in your medium. It hadn’t been a fluke, nor was the cop an outlier.
Daniel. His name was Daniel.
Serin pushed him away, giving herself a little shake to jar her senses back in place. “You know I could punch a hole through you for that, right?”
The agent’s face was flushed. He appeared thoughtful, as if he were thinking about his answer. “Will I turn to water because you’re touching me?”
She snorted. Maybe. The Mother afforded true mates a fair amount of protection from their partner’s gift, but Serin was clueless about this new development. Swearing softly, she pushed him away and turned her back on him to resume cutting vegetables.
This is not right. Serin had been bonded to Jordan for years—he’d only been gone a few months. But Romero was here now.
What the hell had gone wrong with the Mother’s plan?
Serin was suddenly too full. A storm of emotion was roiling inside her, but she refused to acknowledge it. Her dry eyes stung as the knife pierced the eggplant she’d bought, methodically cutting it into thin slices.
Romero had no idea what was wrong with her. He was wa
tching her with concern, a slightly panicky expression on his face. He was probably worried she was going to start weeping or worse…
That wasn’t going to happen. Serin had spent a lot of time training herself not to show any emotion. She couldn’t cry, even if she wanted to.
“What did you get wet?”
Pulled from her thoughts, she murmured a confused, “What?”
He reached into her open bag, pulling out the thick bundle of damp napkins.
“A phone. It’s not mine,” she admitted. “I took it off a suspect.”
He unwrapped the napkins, revealing the sodden cell phone. “I see. Was it in this state when you found it?”
Hesitating, she bit her lip before glancing away. “Yes.” A fib.
“Really?” He held up the phone. A few stray drops fell from it.
Meeting his gaze again, she shrugged. “Technically, the entirety of the suspect was that wet at the time.”
His lips quirked. “I guess that’s one of the drawbacks to having water superpowers.”
She snatched the phone out of his hands, set it on the other side of the cutting board, and then returned to slicing—the fish this time. “I don’t have superpowers. I am talented or gifted. There’s a distinction.”
“That’s splitting hairs, isn’t it? Just different words to describe the same thing.”
She focused on her meal preparation. The last thing she needed was to cut off a finger. “No offense, Agent, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Crossing his arms, he leaned on the counter. “Then why don’t you enlighten me?”
“I don’t have time to teach you about my world. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m on the trail of a thief and a killer. Maybe more than one….” She paused to gauge his reaction. “Does your partner know you’re here?”
His mouth turned down. “Ray wouldn’t understand. He’s a good partner, but he’s a by-the-book kind of guy.”
“I’m sure he’s a peach, but that’s not the point.” After setting the knife down, she wiped her hands on a dish towel.
“Is this the part where you warn me off—tell me I’ll never understand your world, let alone fit into it?”
Water: The Elementals Book Three Page 14
