I don’t know where she is, and I'd long ago given up trying to keep track of her schedule. During any given week she could be in as many as five of the major mage cities conducting business and signing cookbooks.
Dropping into my big, comfy red chair, I try to settle. But then I vault up again in less than two seconds, wringing my hands and pulling my hair.
If Brexley, Gigi’s new security guy, hadn’t been there, I would have been taken, blown away by those ice shards, or worse.
Why? Did the ninja take Gigi and now they want me?
Why me? I don’t matter, and I sure as hell don’t have anything to do with Grandma’s House. Maybe the ninja thought I had recipes from an upcoming cookbook? Or maybe a recipe for Magic Morsels?
I wrack my brain to figure out what the big deal could be. Some of the Magic Morsels can allow a human to shoot water from their fingertips, or even get a sense of someone’s emotional state for five to fifteen minutes. But that’s still hardly worth hiring an ice mage to get. They are silly little nothing powers for any real mage.
Gigi does have some pretty ruthless competitors, but are they really willing to personally target me and my grandma over some mini muffins and magic parlor tricks?
Unable to untwist my thoughts, I text Goldie, looking for a distraction. She’s dating someone new, and she’s always ready to gush about the current beau, whether she is over the moon with them, or if they are on the outs cause there is something just not right about him.
For a moment, I think of telling her about the crazy shit I just went through, but I dismiss it before the idea even forms.
After fifteen minutes, there is still no response from Goldie.
Unlike me, where I formulate a response in my head but often forget to actually send the damn text—Goldie usually hits me back in less than two minutes.
It’s midnight on a Friday night, and I know she is on shift with Cinder. I’d be there too, if I hadn’t requested time off to go home for the weekend. But the Poison Apple must really be hopping tonight to keep Goldie's digits off the phone.
I shoot a message to both Goldie and Cinder that I’m on my way to work.
Changing out of my jeans and sweatshirt, I slide on dark red pleather pants that stretch over my rear. I don a black corset top that leaves my arms and shoulders exposed and snap a couple gold bands around my biceps. A dash of smoky eye makeup and lipgloss is all I need. Then I flip my mass of hair over and hit it with hair spray. Tossing it back, my already thick hair is now a voluminous, wild, red hot mane.
I blow a kiss to my two fur babies, having already plied them with parting bits of banana. I step out into the icy New England night, wearing a heavy black duster with the hood up.
The Poison Apple is only five blocks away and with the anxious energy zinging through my veins, the walk flies by. Even with the chilly fall temperatures, my skin is too hot under my coat as I think about Gigi not responding, and about the attack. About the scarred Were driving his thick cock into me, drowning me in his spicy, sexual scent, making me come so hard I can’t think.
I smack myself in the head, hard. But it doesn’t keep me from getting wet and achy again.
“Stop it,” I mutter to myself. “You do not need more sex. You can be in control of your urges. You are better than this.”
From my memory, Brexley’s flashing eyes pierce me like two razor-sharp rapiers.
The need to turn around and go straight back to the apartment and pull out my helpfulfriendfrom the bedside drawer to work off some of this extra energy hits me, hard.
Seriously, what is wrong with me? Gigi is missing, someone tried to kidnap me, and I’m still thinking of getting railed by the security guard.
I rationalize that I’m compartmentalizing and trying to focus on the least terrifying bit of the day. Still, my skin thrums and aches when I think of him eating me out like his last meal.
I smack myself a second time, just to drive the point home.I am in control.
I’ll probably never see Brexley again. Who knows if he even survived the ice mage? I try to ignore the sick lurch in my stomach. No. I don’t believe that. He can clearly handle himself.
I just need to stay calm and in control until I hear from Gigi. So I’ll work my shift and then go home—alone. It’s a bulletproof plan.
Except for the part where my fast-rising arousal has other ideas. It doesn’t matter that I had the ride of my life less than six hours ago. When it’s that time of the month, I am insatiable.
I’ll have to be extra careful not to let anyone touch me tonight. That’s not so hard. Right?
Chapter8
Fae Chivalry
RED
