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She swam to the shallow end, and with a steeling breath, she tugged off the bracelet. The moment her clothes materialized, she stuffed the piece of jewelry into her jacket pocket and zipped it shut. Her feet tingled as they took the place of the scaled tail, her boots soaked through. Teeth chattering, she walked out of the water, shaking the wet hair out of her face—
And looked up to find Roman standing on the shore, his Familiar—a small black dragon—perched on his shoulder, long tongue slithering out.
Shay stopped short. “Shit.”
He gave her another of those deadly half-smiles, the gold of his eyes engulfed with the black of the Sight. “Hiya, pup.”
Roman would not be letting this little thief get away from him again.
He gripped her by the arm and towed her out of the water, toward where he’d parked his car. To his surprise, she didn’t resist, and instead walked just behind him, slightly dragging her wet, squeaking boots.
“I’m not even going to bother asking how you did that,” Roman said, referring to that trick of the eyes on the dock, “because I know you’ll lie.” It had to be a glamor—there was no other explanation for that shit.
“Gee, Mister,” she fake-gushed, “you’re really smart.”
He yanked her close, snarling in her face, “You are this close to being cut up and stuffed into those fish barrels!” He pointed at the seafood market by the docks, where people ate lobster rolls and crab cakes at hightop tables.
The smell of those rolls and cakes twisted his stomach; Roman detested seafood.
The Selkie wasn’t fazed—not even by the black that had fully engulfed his eyes for the second time in under ten minutes. This was a far cry from the show she’d put on in the club. “Shh, there are children present,” she said.
He growled and pulled her along.
“Just so you know,” she began, her tone all sweet and innocent and annoying, “your donation has gone to a very good cause—”
“Donation?” he repeated. He pulled her close again and snarled in her face, their noses nearly touching, “You stole.” He kept moving, refusing to waste any extra time with this colossal pain-in-the-ass.
“And the money has gone to a very good cause,” she crooned.
“And what cause is that?”
“Can’t tell you.”
He growled again. Sayagul—the small dragon Familiar on his shoulder—echoed it with a squawk, her forked tongue slithering through her sharp teeth.
As soon as you turn her into a crab cake, Sayagul hissed, I want a bite.
A bite? You can eat the whole damn thing, as long as you don’t burp on me afterward.
Deal.
“I’m concerned about you, Shadows,” Shay continued. “You don’t seem to know how to smile or laugh. And you aren’t good at conversation, since you keep growling like some sort of wild animal—”
“And you’re not very good at shutting up, are you?”
He was rewarded with two seconds of glorious, peaceful silence before she opened her infuriating mouth again.
“Where are we going?” Now that his car was in view, she began to drag her boots, putting her whole weight—what she had of it—into pulling on his arm. He’d parked across the road, by an old cafe that made the best lattes and double-chocolate muffins—a place that always raked in excellent money, no matter the season or time of day.
He could really use one of those lattes and a muffin right about now. It was the better alternative to taking out his rage on a random bystander.
Or this tiny thief who was majorly testing his patience.
People on the sidewalk moved aside to let him through, a few of them turning to stare as the Shadowmaster dragged the Selkie across the road, forcing traffic to a standstill.
“You,” Roman began, gritting his teeth as he fought the Surge, the emotions threatening to erupt like a volcano, “are going to return what belongs to me.” With his free hand, he dug out the car remote from his pocket and unlocked the doors.
“And if I don’t?”
