“Crazy, isn’t it?”
The voice was so close, I nearly yelped. When I looked up, an indigo-eyed fairy smiled sympathetically at me. The glitter dusting her nose and cheeks sparkled underneath the lights, and her smile was open, friendly. “First time?” she asked.
I winced. “Am I that obvious?”
She laughed; a delicate tinkling sound that reminded me of wind chimes. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink. Alcohol makes it easier to take it all in.”
I spun and followed her to the bar behind me. I hadn’t even noticed it before, gawking in only direction and all. But now, I couldn’t miss it. A long bar ran the entire length of this half of the room. Behind it, stood a female bartender with red eyes and ghostly white hair. Her leather bustier left almost nothing to the imagination, and even I couldn’t help the attraction or the urge to walk over and run my hand along her—
I blinked, trying to clear my head, as I realized her pull on me probably wasn’t just chemical.
“Damned succubus,” I muttered.
As if she could hear me, she looked right at me and smiled. “What’ll it be, love?”
“She’ll have a Party In Your Mouth,” said my new friend.
I shot her a horrified look, and my jaw fell open a little at the obvious innuendo. “What? No, I…” I looked helplessly at the smiling succubus.
They both laughed.
“Relax, it’s the name of the drink,” said the fairy.
“Coming right up.” The bartender winked, and then she spun away, reaching for one of the bottles on the shelves behind her. I scanned the display, enjoying the violet lights that made everything glow, including the contents of several unmarked bottles whose contents glowed more red than purple.
I decided I didn’t want to know everything offered here.
“I’m Gwendolyn,” said the fairy.
“Gem,” I said, “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you meeting anyone special tonight or just browsing?”
The openness of her question left me speechless, but she just patted my hand. Tiny chains lined with shimmering jewels wrapped around her fingers and extended up her arms until they met her ivory sleeves. Everything about her shimmered and shone. “It’s all right. I remember my first Monster Ball. Even with the stories I’d heard, it was quite a shock seeing it all live and in color. Just remember that everything is your choice. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
That was debatable.
“And,” she went on, “The best part is when it’s over, you go right back to your life. No harm done. No strings attached.”
“What happens at the ball stays at the ball,” I said, repeating the line I’d often heard used to describe this party.
“Exactly.” Gwendolyn nodded.
A drink appeared in front of me, and I sniffed it suspiciously. “It’s just absinthe with a little cherry grenadine.”
“Just absinthe?” I repeated, slightly horrified. Looks could be deceiving though. I’d always heard fairies could really hold their liquor. I, on the other hand…
Gwendolyn grinned, obviously having fun with me. “Newbies are a riot,” she called to the succubus behind the bar.
They both watched as I took my first sip.
“Not bad,” I admitted as the flavors hit my tongue. The pop rock rim was fun too—but I wasn’t going to tell them that and sound like a total newb.
The succubus wandered off to take another order, and Gwendolyn pointed out the rest of the room while I sipped my drink. The candy popped and fizzed inside my mouth, making it hard to talk. Luckily, Gwendolyn was perfectly happy filling the silence.
“The other bar is there. Each bartender has a signature drink. You should try the Drunk Dancing Bears if you get a chance. It’s yummy.”
My brows rose. I wouldn’t have pegged Gwendolyn for such a drinker with her innocent looks, but one could never tell. Especially at a party like this one. Besides, you couldn’t be that innocent and still be this at ease at a party like the Monster Ball.
“What about those?” I asked, pointing to the darkened corners on the far side of the ballroom.
“Oh, yes. Privacy in public, as they say,” Gwendolyn said. “The hanging silks are spelled to be soundproof.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “See no evil. Hear no evil. Know what I mean?”
“Yep, I think I do,” I said and took another swig of my drink.
Gwendolyn laughed and patted my arm. “It’s harmless fun, darling. Listen, I’ll see you around. Have fun tonight.” She winked. “But not too much.”
“Trust me, my definition of fun is boring compared to this,” I called to her as she glided away, ivory slippers peeking out from underneath her matching dress.
I scanned the ballroom and slowly sipped my drink. The room wasn’t even full yet, but even with the crowd already gathered, my senses buzzed and my nerves stood on end. I’d never been in the presence of so many different supernaturals at once. The fact that no one was trying to eat anyone else—unwillingly, anyway—was a testament to the supernatural world’s universal love of partying.
From onstage, the music shifted and there was a brief lull with only the soft strains of the electric guitar pouring through the speakers.
“Cadet, report,” came Rodrigo’s faint voice in my earpiece.
I nearly spilled my drink but recovered quickly. Gods, I’d almost forgotten the damned comm unit was in there considering how useless it had been over the noise.
I took a sip of my drink and used my glass to cover my lips as they moved. “No eyes on target yet,” I said just as a new song began, drowning out the sound of my voice.
Rodrigo’s response was short and full of warning. “Keep looking. And don’t…” The rest of it was lost to the noise as the drums were added.
I sighed. Even lodged inside my ear, the gadget did me no good over the volume of the party.
“Base, if you can hear me, FYI, I don’t copy. I repeat, I don’t copy. Too much noise.” I waited to confirm a response.
The ear piece crackled but no intelligible sound came through.
“I’m going to look for the mark,” I added.
My words were met with more static.
I huffed in frustration then refocused on what I’d come here to do. No one on the other end of my comms could help me, anyway. This was my mission.
I could do this.
It was time to find my mark and finish what I’d come to do.
Tossing a few bills on the bar next to my half-empty glass, I waved goodbye to the bartender and made my way farther into the ballroom. While I walked, I scanned the room again—this time for the single purpose of identifying any possible threats. So far, I hadn’t seen a single security guard which meant the two gargoyles at the door were it. I’d noticed when I came in, they were very obviously unarmed but then they didn’t need weapons.
They were the weapons.
That could either be good for me—backup if things turned south—or bad.
My eyes caught again on the darker corners of the ballroom where gauzy curtains obscured what lay inside. I squinted, using my fae sight to penetrate the curtains, but even with that I could only barely make out the shape of the beds set up inside. Silhouettes moved, but I couldn’t make them out. Some sort of cloaking spell then.
I tested the air around the curtains for evidence of magic, but my fae senses couldn’t pinpoint anything. Which meant Rodrigo was probably right about the magic preventing violence too. Whoever had spelled this place was powerful if I couldn’t pick up on them.
“See something you’d like to try?”
The voice jolted me more than I wanted to admit. And not just because I’d been too wrapped up in strategizing to notice someone had gotten close enough that his breath felt warm against my ear. Mostly that. But I also couldn’t help the shiver at the sexy tone he used.
I covered up my surprise with a demure smile and turned to my new companion. “I’m only window shopping,” I sai
d lightly.
A pair of gleaming eyes stared back at me. They were ice-blue and bottomless, set into a hot-as-hell face and a rock-hard body. Even through the button-down shirt he wore, I could tell he was an impressive package underneath.
At my comment, his lips twitched then curved upward. “And what’s wrong with purchasing the package?” he asked.
Our eyes met and held and the unmistakable scent of lust rolled off him, nearly knocking my fae senses sideways. This guy wasn’t just an animal shifter; he was a predator. An alpha of his kind. And I’d just made eye contact for way too long to be considered platonic to a beast like him.
Shit.
I shifted away a bit so that when I looked at him next, it didn’t expose my throat or allow for any marking on his part. His gaze sharpened, and I knew he’d noticed. Oh well, better to be alive than polite.
“Sorry, I’m vegan,” I said pointedly. “No animals for me.”
His smirk took my breath away. “Well, if you get a craving for fresh meat,” he said, his gaze raking over me in a not-subtle-at-all kind of way, “Come find me.”
He strode off before I could argue. Or agree. Or jump his bones. I mean, if the menu looked like him, I wasn’t against mixing business with pleasure.
Wow.
I was still watching his amazing ass when the music shifted again, this time into something slower. A few people exited the dance floor. Most of them went around me, but one figure stopped in front of me.
I looked up and into the face of my target: Kristoff Rasmussen, tech mogul, billionaire, and international slime ball. The image Rigo had shown me earlier had prepared me for the confident smirk set in a too-narrow face. What I hadn’t counted on were the eyes. Black as midnight, soulless, and cruelly self-serving; I had no doubt Kristoff wasn’t accustomed to the word “no” or “not interested.” What he wanted, he took.
And tonight, he wanted me.
“Good evening, Mr. Rasmussen,” I said in my best airhead voice.
The transition into my created persona was a skill I’d learned early during my training. It made the mission a hell of a lot easier if I was someone else entirely.
“Please, call me Kristoff.” He took the hand I’d offered and rather than shake it, he pressed it to his lips and held it there. When he finally let me go, he stepped closer than was necessary and began his perusal.
I’d had men check me out before, but this was beyond forward. He was already standing inside my personal bubble of space and with no attempt to hide it; he inspected me as if I were a menu. His gaze lingered so long on my chest, I had to resist the urge to remind him where my face was.
When he finally found my gaze again, his eyes gleamed with hunger—and fire. It was the tiniest of flames flickering back at me from inside slitted pupils. Barely a second and then it was gone. By the time he blinked again, his eyes looked normal if not a little too wandering.
The flames I’d spotted wrapped inside a very animalistic stare were unmistakable, but just to be sure, I sniffed when he leaned close—and had to force my nose not to wrinkle.
Dammit. This guy was a fucking hellhound.
“You must be Lolita,” he said, offering the assumed name Rodrigo’s people had forged for me.
“Please, call me Lita,” I said, pretending to enjoy the way his whiskey breath crowded my own supply of oxygen. Ugh. Why did men—particularly rich men—always assume they were exempt from basic manners and hygiene?
“Lita, then,” he said. “You look absolutely stunning. Better than your picture.” He inhaled and leaned in, grinning lasciviously as he added, “Your scent is already making me wonder what sort of details the photos your company provided—and that dress—are hiding.”
I blinked. My scent?
Shit.
Hellhounds were known for their ability to sniff out…well, everything. Including things like dishonesty and manipulation. It was probably one of the things that had helped him climb so high on the corporate ladder. And fuck it all, it was really going to make this mission nearly impossible.
I bit back the rage that built for Rodrigo—he’d kept this from me on purpose and it was going to cost him if it was the last thing I did. Instead, I plastered a flirty smile on my face and tried to conjure up some feeling of attraction or interest to cover up any scent that might suggest what I actually wanted from him. Yes, it was probably in his pants. No, it wasn’t his doggy-dangler.
“A girl never tells,” I said, complete with batting lashes.
Kristoff’s smile turned smug. “Lucky for us, the night is young. There’s plenty of time to uncover all of that.” He winked, tucking my hand into his elbow as he began leading me toward the second bar. “Come. Let’s get you a cocktail, and then you can tell me all about yourself.”
Swallowing my disgust, I let myself be led away.
Kristoff stopped at the end of the bar and shoved aside another customer, ignoring the growl that rose up at our backs. I couldn’t help but be a little impressed at the size of his balls when Kristoff didn’t even bother to turn and face the werewolf he’d obviously pissed off. You had to be pretty sure of yourself to turn your back on an angry dog.
Or stupid.
The fae bartender closest to where we stood eyed Kristoff with raised brows. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of Kristoff’s methods either. The male fae glanced at me, and his expression sharpened a bit.
Shit. That was all I needed. One of my own kind seeing straight through my glamour to the pointed ears hiding underneath.
“What can I get for you?” he asked. Poking out from underneath his silver hair, pointed ears twitched as he strained to hear Kristoff’s response.
“She’ll have a Frostbite,” Kristoff told him without bothering to ask me.
The bartender looked over at me, his silvery eyes clearly waiting for confirmation.
I sighed but nodded.
He pursed his lips and looked back at Kristoff. “And for you?” he asked him.
“Lemonade and fireball,” Kristoff snapped.
The bartender didn’t look too happy about his request, and I couldn’t blame him—a hellhound with a fireball buzz didn’t sound like a very friendly combination—but he went to work on the drinks without complaint.
While we waited, Kristoff’s phone buzzed.
I pretended not to notice as he read a text. A second later, I watched from the corner of my eye as Kristoff nodded almost imperceptibly, his gaze fixed on something—or someone—behind me.
Before I could catch a glimpse, the bartender handed me a glass. I took it with a wobbly hand, letting some of the liquid slosh over the edge onto my hand. The wince I gave at the chilled liquid wasn’t forced. Holy shit, this drink was otherworldly cold. Too late, I realized the Frostbite portion undoubtedly came from the fae himself.
“Oh, dear, I’m so clumsy. Do you have a napkin?” I spun around, pretending to look for something to wipe my hand.
Sliding my gaze up, I caught sight of a man standing with his back to the wall not far from a dimly lit archway leading out of the ballroom. His dark hair was cropped close in a no-nonsense military buzz cut. He wore a suit similar to Kristoff’s, but the sleeves strained around the man’s thick muscles and the pants were two inches too short. Borrowed, clearly. Or just a bad sizing. Either way, considering the angry set to his jaw, I had a feeling the suit wasn’t his usual attire.
He was obviously Kristoff’s hired muscle.
He caught me looking and glared back at me. I spun quickly to the bartender who held a napkin out. Smiling, I took it and wiped up the mess I’d made. Beside me, Kristoff was too wrapped up in his drink—and checking out everything with boobs—to notice my recon.
When I looked again, the man was still there, watching me.
So, Kristoff had brought a date. Good to know he didn’t travel anywhere without security—not even a party like this one.
Once I had a firm grip on my drink, Kristoff grabbed my hand again and began leading me back through
the crowd. I didn’t realize his destination until it was too late. By then, we’d already reached the u-shaped couches that lined the far wall. Kristoff let go of my hand long enough to sweep his arm out in a gesture for me to sit.
I chose a spot between two other couples, both locked in quiet conversations with one another. Still, I was glad we weren’t alone at least. And even more relieved he hadn’t chosen one of the curtained beds nearby. There was a lot I was willing to do for this mission, but sex with a client wasn’t one of them.
Thankfully, the Academy didn’t expect it. Neither did the SSF—an acronym that stood for Supernatural Security Forces. A secret government agency not unlike the humans’ FBI—which was where I was headed when I graduated. Although, Rodrigo had said something like, “personal discretion might make the difference between a mission’s success or failure.” I’d already decided not to try to decipher what he’d meant by that lest he end up getting punched again.
Nerves twirling in my stomach, I set my purse aside and perched on the edge of the couch before taking a hefty swig of my drink.
This was it.
Time to get to work.
“So,” Kristoff began, sitting close enough beside me that our legs were pressed together. I pretended not to mind it and resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose against the stench of his breath when he spoke again. The fireball was a lot stronger than the lemonade. “Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do for fun?”
“Well,” I began, channeling Lita. “I like yummy drinks like this.” I rattled the ice in my glass and grinned. “And I like parties and…” I cast a quick glance around the ballroom for something else to name.
There were plenty of amazing sights to choose from.
The creatures I saw milling around us or swaying to the music were stunning. Many of them had dropped any attempt at appearing human. Dresses had cutouts for tails that twitched in time to the bass while others had forgone clothes altogether in favor of small scraps of fabric to cover the important bits in order to let things like scales or fur hang out.
The Monster Ball: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 15
