“No leather,” he said.
“I guess I’ll just cancel that order of leather lingerie then.”
One of his dark brows twitched. “No jeans.”
She gave his jeans a pointed look.
“Yes, even for me,” he said.
“I’ve never seen you in anything but jeans and a dark t-shirt. I’ve decided that you have two hundred copies of the same exact outfit in your closet.”
“I do own other clothing.”
“Like suits?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Sera snickered.
“Are you ready to take this seriously?” he asked.
“It’s just that you said you found suits to be so stiff and uncomfortable and…” She stopped at the chilling look he was giving her. “Uh, yeah, I’m ready.”
“Do try to wear something nice to Trove, Sera. And keep your smart comments to yourself. Not everyone finds them as endearing as I do. I’d hate to have to break up a fight between you and the bouncer.”
“I bet I could take him,” she muttered.
“Of course you could,” he said with strained patience. “But the owner of Trove is a business partner of mine. Isaac has a sizable ego, one that would suffer a severe blow if his big, scary bouncer were beaten up by a woman. Don’t embarrass him. That would put a strain on my partnership with him.”
“I’ll try to behave myself,” she said.
“Start by following the dress code.”
“Yes, fine. I’ll follow the silly dress code. How hard can it be to find something in my closet that isn’t denim, dirty, leather, torn, bloody, full of monster gore, or designed for military warfare?”
His blue eyes pulsed once. “Do you have time to go shopping before tonight?”
She punched him in the arm. “Not funny.” She shook out her hand.
“Are you all right?” he asked, watching her curiously.
She’d hit him, and he was wondering if she was all right? Punching Kai was like hitting a boulder: it hurt her more than it hurt him.
“Fine,” she said. “I will find something to wear. Even though anything that will get me through the door of Trove is probably impossible to fight in.”
“You have finesse, Sera. I have every confidence in your ability to use magic while maintaining the club’s dress code. And I’ll help you,” Kai added, brushing aside a loose strand of hair from her face. He tucked it behind her ear, but allowed his hand to linger on her cheek. His finger traced her jawline slowly.
Heat flushed her face, spreading from his hand, sliding with liquid ease down her neck, cresting her breasts… Sera fumbled with the door handle. The door opened, and she fell out of his car. She landed—ungracefully, but at least on her feet.
“See you tonight,” she said, not meeting his eyes as she swung the door shut.
She hurried across the garage. She could hear him step out of the car, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t even slow down until she was walking down the hallway to her suite. Kai’s suite was on an entirely different floor.
Riley stood in the open doorway, watching her come down the hall. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping aside as she reached the door.
She hurried inside and shut the door after them. And only then did she dare to breath. “Nothing. Just Kai’s next job for me.” She slid out of her shoes, her toes screaming in relief. She’d been on her feet since before dawn—well, except when she was being hurled across fields. “This exclusive work sure is annoying sometimes. Being at the client’s beck and call.”
Riley grinned. “And keeping your smart mouth in check?”
“Yeah.”
“Kai’s not so bad.” He set down his backpack. “Not like that purple poodle lady.”
Sera snorted. “True.”
Kai was no purple poodle lady—that was for sure—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t big trouble. Maybe even bigger trouble than the Magic Games.
CHAPTER FOUR
Army of Clean
SERA TOOK A long, hot shower, scrubbing her dirt-freckled skin with copious helpings of the hotel’s flowery body wash. It came in teeny-tiny pretentious bottles, so it must be the good stuff. Sera drained four bottles, and she didn’t even feel bad about it. She’d earned it. That morning, she’d woken up at an unholy hour, and the extended ass-kicking session by the dragon that had followed hadn’t helped matters.
She stepped out of the shower with a stretch and a yawn, smiling as she oozed her toes into the plush bath towel. Two chocolate peanut butter granola bars and a tall glass of cold milk later, she grabbed her pink scooter Lily and kicked off toward Mayhem.
About two years ago, Mayhem had opened a New York branch. Monster infestation was a global phenomenon, and Simmons, the head of Mayhem, wasn’t one to ignore the call for profit.
Mayhem’s NYC office was located inside the posh ‘Magic & 8th Avenue’ building, the city’s goto place for all shops and services of the supernatural persuasion. Sera walked through the main entrance, right into the middle of a magical shopping paradise. There were shops for magic pets, magic potions, magic artifacts, magic books… It was all very boutique, and most of the magic they were selling there was actually legitimate.
She navigated an obstacle course of frenzied shoppers, heavy bags, and miniature purse poodles that smelled of mint perfume and self-entitlement. One of them—a pink dog with a gem-studded collar—turned its nose up at Sera as she escaped into the elevator. Apparently, even the dogs here looked down on her. She stuck her tongue out at Pinky. In response, it began to yap rapidly, like it was telling her off for her impudence. Its owner, a fairy with a flower crown, turned to see what all the fuss was about, but Sera had already mashed the button to the twelfth floor. The elevator doors slid shut, the sound as soft as whispered silk.
“I guess I’ll just cancel that order of leather lingerie then.”
One of his dark brows twitched. “No jeans.”
She gave his jeans a pointed look.
“Yes, even for me,” he said.
“I’ve never seen you in anything but jeans and a dark t-shirt. I’ve decided that you have two hundred copies of the same exact outfit in your closet.”
“I do own other clothing.”
“Like suits?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Sera snickered.
“Are you ready to take this seriously?” he asked.
“It’s just that you said you found suits to be so stiff and uncomfortable and…” She stopped at the chilling look he was giving her. “Uh, yeah, I’m ready.”
“Do try to wear something nice to Trove, Sera. And keep your smart comments to yourself. Not everyone finds them as endearing as I do. I’d hate to have to break up a fight between you and the bouncer.”
“I bet I could take him,” she muttered.
“Of course you could,” he said with strained patience. “But the owner of Trove is a business partner of mine. Isaac has a sizable ego, one that would suffer a severe blow if his big, scary bouncer were beaten up by a woman. Don’t embarrass him. That would put a strain on my partnership with him.”
“I’ll try to behave myself,” she said.
“Start by following the dress code.”
“Yes, fine. I’ll follow the silly dress code. How hard can it be to find something in my closet that isn’t denim, dirty, leather, torn, bloody, full of monster gore, or designed for military warfare?”
His blue eyes pulsed once. “Do you have time to go shopping before tonight?”
She punched him in the arm. “Not funny.” She shook out her hand.
“Are you all right?” he asked, watching her curiously.
She’d hit him, and he was wondering if she was all right? Punching Kai was like hitting a boulder: it hurt her more than it hurt him.
“Fine,” she said. “I will find something to wear. Even though anything that will get me through the door of Trove is probably impossible to fight in.”
“You have finesse, Sera. I have every confidence in your ability to use magic while maintaining the club’s dress code. And I’ll help you,” Kai added, brushing aside a loose strand of hair from her face. He tucked it behind her ear, but allowed his hand to linger on her cheek. His finger traced her jawline slowly.
Heat flushed her face, spreading from his hand, sliding with liquid ease down her neck, cresting her breasts… Sera fumbled with the door handle. The door opened, and she fell out of his car. She landed—ungracefully, but at least on her feet.
“See you tonight,” she said, not meeting his eyes as she swung the door shut.
She hurried across the garage. She could hear him step out of the car, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t even slow down until she was walking down the hallway to her suite. Kai’s suite was on an entirely different floor.
Riley stood in the open doorway, watching her come down the hall. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping aside as she reached the door.
She hurried inside and shut the door after them. And only then did she dare to breath. “Nothing. Just Kai’s next job for me.” She slid out of her shoes, her toes screaming in relief. She’d been on her feet since before dawn—well, except when she was being hurled across fields. “This exclusive work sure is annoying sometimes. Being at the client’s beck and call.”
Riley grinned. “And keeping your smart mouth in check?”
“Yeah.”
“Kai’s not so bad.” He set down his backpack. “Not like that purple poodle lady.”
Sera snorted. “True.”
Kai was no purple poodle lady—that was for sure—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t big trouble. Maybe even bigger trouble than the Magic Games.
CHAPTER FOUR
Army of Clean
SERA TOOK A long, hot shower, scrubbing her dirt-freckled skin with copious helpings of the hotel’s flowery body wash. It came in teeny-tiny pretentious bottles, so it must be the good stuff. Sera drained four bottles, and she didn’t even feel bad about it. She’d earned it. That morning, she’d woken up at an unholy hour, and the extended ass-kicking session by the dragon that had followed hadn’t helped matters.
She stepped out of the shower with a stretch and a yawn, smiling as she oozed her toes into the plush bath towel. Two chocolate peanut butter granola bars and a tall glass of cold milk later, she grabbed her pink scooter Lily and kicked off toward Mayhem.
About two years ago, Mayhem had opened a New York branch. Monster infestation was a global phenomenon, and Simmons, the head of Mayhem, wasn’t one to ignore the call for profit.
Mayhem’s NYC office was located inside the posh ‘Magic & 8th Avenue’ building, the city’s goto place for all shops and services of the supernatural persuasion. Sera walked through the main entrance, right into the middle of a magical shopping paradise. There were shops for magic pets, magic potions, magic artifacts, magic books… It was all very boutique, and most of the magic they were selling there was actually legitimate.
She navigated an obstacle course of frenzied shoppers, heavy bags, and miniature purse poodles that smelled of mint perfume and self-entitlement. One of them—a pink dog with a gem-studded collar—turned its nose up at Sera as she escaped into the elevator. Apparently, even the dogs here looked down on her. She stuck her tongue out at Pinky. In response, it began to yap rapidly, like it was telling her off for her impudence. Its owner, a fairy with a flower crown, turned to see what all the fuss was about, but Sera had already mashed the button to the twelfth floor. The elevator doors slid shut, the sound as soft as whispered silk.
