by Ann Denton
He lifts an eyebrow. “Maybe I’ll give you special treatment until you agree to go out with me. Then you won’t have any excuse not to.”
“You’d make my life a living H-E-double hockey sticks.”
“Is that what it takes, Ly?”
Fury pulses through my veins. I can’t believe he’s threatening this. “If you do that, I will never date you.”
“Then what? How long?”
“I don’t know, okay? I need to get through Academy, get an assignment…”
Bennett runs a hand over his face. “You want me to wait half a year?” His growl is strained. “That’s not a break, Ly. That’s breaking up.”
With that, he strides out, smacking the gym doors open so hard they hit the walls.
After that, my night goes to shit. My spells don’t work. I’m listless through our lectures. Showering and changing for the office doesn’t snap me out of it.
I’m glazed over at my desk at the Investigation Office where I’m supposed to study closed case files. All I want is to curl up in a ball with a giant bag of jellybeans and let oblivion take over. I wish I could call Jacob, my pseudo-father figure, but he’s still visiting friends. Last time he called to check in, he was at a reservation in New Mexico. Howling it up with some coyote-shifter pals.
I do text JR under my desk, but I can’t go into details at the office. Can’t break down in front of Seena and Becca, who are currently eyeing me cautiously from our adjoined cubicles, like I’m a bomb about to explode. Which I kinda am.
Bennett is back to blacklist.
What’d butthead do?
Broke up for real.
What!!!
Girls night?
My cousin’s wedding planning thing is tonight. But I will ditch early and come see you.
I groan out loud.
“The case is that bad, Ms. Fox?” Flowers voice startles me and I drop my phone.
I turn my eyes to the open case file on my desk and heave a sigh of relief. At least it’s open. I have no idea what it says, but I could have been staring at the closed cover for half an hour for all I know.
“The groan was more a—”
He cuts me off. “I don’t really care. I came to let you know that you get to clean the child’s corner of the family law courtrooms tonight. Since you made my list.”
I blink. The gooey, sticky toys in the family law waiting area? Where hairballs coughed up by were-children roll around like tumbleweeds? Where swamp things leave their soggy children while they argue over whose bog is better? “Sounds like a dream.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something even more exciting tomorrow.” He gives an evil grin and leaves.
I stand up, suddenly wishing I’d taken Ben up on his offer. On all his offers. My eyes water.
“Hey,” Becca’s voice rings out. “If you want to talk—”
I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks.” She’s sweet. But she’s no JR.
I sigh and go to get my supplies from maintenance. At least scrubbing is mindless.
I step into the elevator with a bucket, bleach, and many, many sets of gloves. Investigation is the top floor. I have to go down eight to get to family. But, three floors down, on the level of the felony courtrooms, the elevator stops and opens.
“Well, if this isn’t deja vu…”
I glance up and do a double take. Luke Hawkins (aka Hot Vamp to my pervy mind) steps into the elevator. He’s in a crisp blue three-piece suit. The suit makes his blue eyes pop. His hair brushes his shoulders, a dark golden blond. He smiles and bam! Dimples. Dream-worthy dimples. He’s like my own personal fantasy come to life.
I wait too long to respond, just staring like the horny, dimwitted twelve-year-old girl I’ve suddenly become.
“I heard you got a promotion,” Luke nods toward my bucket, a shit-eating grin on his face.
I take a glove and toss it at his face.
“Shut it.”
He catches the glove and smiles. “Seriously, Sarah didn’t tell me you were working maintenance. I’d have dropped by after hours.” He licks his lips and flashes his fangs.
“Yes, watching me scrub toilets would be so hot.”
“Watching you bend over to scrub toilets would be hot,” he winks.
I can’t help it. I laugh. And a little bit of the pain from the Bennett disaster recedes.
“Wait. You’re talking to my neighbor?”
Hawkins and I had gone on a date a little over a month ago. But just one. One glorious date. But his recent break up with his ex, a murder accusation, and my subsequent hook up with Bennett had quashed the prospect of another.
“Mrs. Snow is a sweet old lady. Plus, she’s my informant.”
“For what?”
He raises his eyebrows and stares at me. “What do you think I want information on?”
I feel giddy. He’s been keeping tabs on me? Normally, that would be creepy. But, somehow, this makes me swoon.
He takes a step closer. I can feel the energy crackling between us. A month ago, I would have run for the hills rather than let him touch me. But right now, I’m not thinking straight. I’m not sure my brain is thinking at all. It’s rather blood deprived. Because all my blood seems to have rushed to my—
“Lyon,” he whispers. “You’ve been on a break with Bennett for a month. When are you going to go out with me?”
His words send erotic shivers down my spine. And the truth pops out of my mouth before I can contain it.
“We were on a break. We just broke up for real this evening.”
His expression changes immediately. Sympathy crosses his face. His hand comes up but he stops short of touching me. “Can I?”
I don’t let vamps touch me as a rule. A very big important rule since my blood can turn them human. But this is just a hug. In a public elevator. No need to panic, I tell my stupid heart. I’m not sure if it’s pumping hard in anticipation or fear. But I want that hug. I need a hug. So, I nod.
Luke engulfs me, wrapping his arms around me lightly. It feels so good. Like hot chocolate on a rainy day good. I avoided this why? It’s amazing. I’m sad when he pulls away.
“So, what’s with the bucket? You Head of Maintenance, now?”
I appreciate his smooth change of subject to lighten the mood.
“Punishment. My spell casting sucks.” The elevator dings for my floor. “This is me. I get to scrub all the kiddie toys here.” I step off the elevator reluctantly.
The doors start to shut. But then Luke’s hand stops them.
“Hey,” he bites his lip. “Do you want some company?”
I scrunch my eyebrows. “What?”
“Do you want someone to ramble and keep your mind off things?”
A half-smile lights my face. “I’m not ready to—”
“Not a date,” he holds up his hands, but immediately has to stick one out again to keep the elevator doors from closing.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Ly, I don’t just want to date you. I like you. As a person.”
Oh, cupcakes and gummy bears and marshmallows and everything squishy. Does he know what that statement just did to my insides?
“You want to watch me clean toys?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” I’m a little nervous as he steps off the elevator to stand beside me.
“Where to?” His smile’s as wide as the Mississippi.
I jerk my head left and he starts following me down the hall.
“Ly,” he starts.
“Yeah?”
“Full disclosure. This is just a friend thing. But if you bend over, I’m still gonna check out your ass.”
I laugh. “Deal.”
He sits in a chair and listens to me gripe about the Academy and Flowers—his stupid assignment to lose things. I avoid talking about Bennett. Until it slips out that he offered to get me out of this punishment.
Luke’s eyes widen. “What’d you say?”
“I told him no! I
want to earn my place.” I grouse as I pull bright orange slime balls off the wall.
Luke doesn’t respond for a second. When I turn to look at him, he’s gripping the chair handles so hard, I’m worried he might break them.
“Are you okay?”
“I want to kiss you so bad right now it hurts.” Luke breathes. He shakes his head, “Who says that anymore? Most people just want to climb the ladder. Get their break. It doesn’t matter how. But you …”
He stands and walks over to me. I turn into him, until we’re just a breath apart. His eyes flicker all over my face. “Don’t let him change that about you. It’s rare. Integrity.” His eyes search mine. “It’s precious.”
“Okay.” My lips somehow mutter the words. I have no idea how. Because my mind is floating in space. Almost like I’m tipsy. On a compliment.
Luke holds my eyes for another second. “But … anyway. Back to being just friends.”
I giggle.
He groans and backs away. “God, burp or something. Make yourself less attractive. You’re killing me.”
I hold up the collection of slime balls in my hand. “Does the fact that my arm’s covered in monster spit help?”
“A little.” He sinks back into his seat.
I tell him stories about JR, trying to help him get back to our friend-zone. Because as much as I would love to kiss him right now, my heart’s still a pulverized mess inside. Not ready.
When I run out of breath, Luke takes over. He tells me about his work while I put on a new set of gloves and scrub toys. He used to work at the shipyard, once upon a time. That got him some contacts abroad. Which led him to start importing custom casters. Which I thought meant wizards, but it turns out they’re just wheels. He exports them all around the US for boring shit like shopping carts.
“That’s a job?”
“It’s twenty jobs. I have a whole team of employees who assemble and ship ‘em.” Luke leans forward in his seat.
“No way! Who does that? Trolls? Golems? I cannot imagine twenty people who would want such a mind-numbing job.”
Luke laughs. “I think you’re overestimating the general population’s intelligence.”
“Oh. So, humans work for you.” I rib him. Lots of races think humans are stupid. I’m not one of those. But …
“I used to be human.”
“Case in point,” I wink.
A squeaky dog toy hits me on the shoulder.
“Hey! That was clean!” I toss it back at him. And add a dirty stuffed witch for good measure.
Bad move.
Suddenly I’m getting pummeled with toys. I squeal, using one arm for cover. I use the other to frantically toss toys back his way.
I lose. By a big margin. Because Luke takes an entire tub of toys and dumps it over my head.
“Truce!” I cry.
“Shake on it,” he holds out his hand.
I reach for it but can’t resist. At the last minute I pull him down. He ends up sprawled on top of me. An occasion I have most definitely imagined. In very naughty detail. But this is not that. On the upside, I’m not panicking at his touch. On the downside, there is some kind of toy in between us making a squeaky flatulent sound.
“Not it!” I shout and put my fingers on my forehead in the universal ‘I-didn’t-fart’ signal.
He starts laughing. “Alright, Ly. You win.” He shoves off me, and to my surprise plops down next to me and grabs a rag.
“What are you doing? You’re gonna ruin your suit!”
“Well, I just ruined all your hard work. So I owe it to you to help out. That’s what friends do, right?”
His eyes meet mine. And then I’m light-headed. I feel like there’s too much oxygen in the room. Or not enough. I don’t know. All I know is this: it’s very tempting to imagine being more than friends with Luke.
Chapter 3
At seven a.m. I meet JR at Wendel’s, my fave fifties diner. It’s one of my go-to restaurants. The baker there, Cherry Jones, is a master. Instead of fries and shakes and skulls, she’s expanded the menu to a delicious assortment of desserts for all creatures. Her prowess has made me try all sorts of things I’d normally never touch. Examples? Candy Salad. (Result: Best way to have “vegetables” ever is when they’re made out of sugar.) Fried Coconut and Hay. (The coconut part was delish.) Zombie pie. (Not a winner. Even though it’s sprinkled in powdered sugar.)
I join JR in line, eyeing a couple of chocolate eclairs in the display case that are screaming my name. The night was too crazy for me to go out on a limb food-wise. I need good old-fashioned sweets for dinner.
“Ugh. I’ve been promoted,” JR pouts out her lower lip. Which of course causes one of the workers to drop his tray. She’s a nymph. A buxom brunette nymph who can bring just about any species of guy to heel. (Not that she does—I’d puke and we’d never be friends because I’d be constantly writhing in a sea of jealousy and self-pity.) Wait, what did she say? Oh, promotion. Right.
“OMG! You’re gonna be in Investigations too!” I squeal and smash her into a hug.
“No. Not at work. For my cousin’s wedding.” She paws at me until I let her go.
“What? How do you get promoted at a wedding?”
“I’m now the lucky maid of honor.” JR almost spits flames as she says the word lucky.
“What? Why?”
“Because the meeting was horrible. My cousin’s a shrew. Camila fired her maid of honor over napkin rings.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not joking.”
“A little bit joking?”
She shakes her head. “Napkin rings.”
“Dang.”
We order, get my desserts, and make our way to a corner booth, JR shooting complaints rapid-fire.
“Slow down. I didn’t hear that last one.”
“She’s got everything all catawampus. Nothing easy. And the wedding’s in five days!”
“Ouch.”
“We’re gonna be pulling our hair out!” JR shakes her head, then steals a bite of my eclair. “I don’t know how we’re gonna do it.”
We? She just said we? Who is this we? “Um, are you forgetting I have the Academy and work?”
JR grabs my collar and pulls me so we are nose to nose. “So help me, you are not leaving me alone in this, Ly-ly.” Her eyes have a steely glint.
“But—”
“I have one word for you. Tattoo. I’m sure everyone at your office would love to hear about it.” She hisses through her teeth.
“I’d never leave you on your own.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I sigh. “I’ll just ask Mrs. Snow to whip me up a Wacky Wakey spell.”
“Yoo-hoo? Did I hear my name, sugar?” Mrs. Snow, my sweet and nosy—isn’t it odd how those two traits seem to go together—neighbor and local wannabe witch doctor, totters over. She's wearing a bright green fern print dress. And she has a feather in her hair. You can take the prima donna out of the South but not the South outta the prima donna. She’s never been able to shed her southern belle style.
Of course, as usual, Tabby Blue—my hero and a naughty elderly cat shifter with an eye for shifter men—is hot on Sarah Snow’s heels. She doesn’t have fashion sense, she wears coke-bottle thick glasses and practical leather shoes instead of heels, but she’s got enough attitude for fifty women. I swear those two have become connected at the hip. Probably from all the gossiping they do over my love life. I haven’t been able to go home for the past five weeks without hearing about Bennett or Luke.
I stifle a groan. I so do not want to talk about guys right now.
"Mind if we join?" Mrs. Snow’s question is rhetorical as she's already slid her butt into the booth.
“I’m Tabby,” Tabby holds out a hand to JR. “I’ve seen you over at Lyon’s but I don’t think we’ve met.”
JR gives her a warm smile. And when JR smiles, ice melts. “I’ve heard so much about you. Lyon admires you so much.”
Tabby puffs
up with pride. She slides in next to JR.
Great. We’re effectively trapped between two busybodies. And my heart just saw more explosive action than a splinter cat blasting trees in a forest. Time to make an offensive maneuver.
“JR has less than a week to put together a wedding for a bridezilla. Any ideas?”
A wedding will turn nearly any woman’s head. But toss that term out to Sarah Snow and it’s like she’s won the lottery.
“Oh! I know just the thing. I’ve got a calming serum in my purse,” she plonks a massive purse down in front of us. “We can use that to tone that bride down. Does she have her china patterns picked? Flowers? What all needs doing?”
JR and Sarah start speaking ‘girl.’ I tune out.
I’ll help. I will. Especially after that threat. But is it wrong to want a minute to wallow? In the breakup with Bennett and/or the subsequent amazingness of Luke?
Tabby’s throat clearing signals that I will not, in fact, get to wallow. At all. “So, Ly—”
I hurry to interrupt what could be a romance-related question. “Weren’t you telling me one time about how you enchanted a balloon to look like you or something to get out of class?”
Tabby narrows her eyes, sensing a diversion. But I toss on a compliment, hoping that will help keep her on the track I want.
“It’s just that was such a brilliant plan, you know? Like I wish I’d thought of it. Wish I could use it during our exercises each night but then I’d fail the Academy, because they intersperse their tests. You think JR could get away with it?” I’m rambling, crossing my fingers that Tabby bites.
She does.
“Yes, I used that decoy to get out of astral projection class. Such a waste of time. Sit there like you’re sleeping and send your soul somewhere else. Anyone could come up and do anything to you! Stupidest thing. Why do that when there are crystal balls?” She pauses to grin at the waiter dropping off JR’s food.
“I’ll have a bowl of milk, please and thank you young man,” she puts in her order, never-minding the fact that you’re supposed to pre-pay at the counter. I don’t think Tabby cares too much about rules. Not if her arrest record is anything to go by.
“Anyway, I used to sneak off to watch the were-lions hunt,” her expression gets dreamy.
