Page 48 of Sight of Fate

“Ready?” she calls, stepping back inside when I answer. “Okay, let’s fix the skirt.” She straightens the lines, tugs on the blouse to make it drape more, then steps back. “Do you have black boots?”

I shake my head. “Black flats okay?”

Her nose wrinkles, and she holds up a finger. “Size?”

I shift from side to side. This green is amazing on me. “Seven.”

“Give me a second.”

As I wait for her to return, I stare at the stranger in the mirror. It’s as if I went from a naïve eighteen-year-old to a confident twenty-three-year-old between one blink and the next. Amara returns and hands me a pair of tall black boots and some knee-high socks.

I giggle. “I haven’t worn socks like this since I was in grade school.”

She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “There’s nothing grade school about this outfit. Wait until you put the boots on.”

I pull them on and zip them up. The boots transform my average legs into the long, sexy things seen on models.

“It’s magic,” I breathe, shifting from side to side to look from every angle. The only thing I don’t like are my stark white legs, but I can fix that with a little instant tanning spray. Cara made me use it in college when she realized I couldn’t really go out in the sun. I had to stop buying it when I was on the road because it was too expensive, but it’s the one thing that makes me feel normal and healthy.

Amara’s eyes sparkle with satisfaction.

With a big grin, I step out of the dressing room. Macklin freezes, phone to his ear. I twirl in a circle and stop, waiting for him to give it a thumbs up or down. He fixes his gaze on me and stares. Tension and heat fill the space between us. My chest rises and falls with every breath, the gorgeous silk sliding sensuously against my skin. His deep blue eyes begin to glow. Raising his hand, he extends his thumb. Up.

Heart racing, I turn and stride back to the dressing room, feeling powerful and scared all at the same time. Who is this creature in the mirror, looking so confident?

I grin. The one who has a date tonight with an incredibly handsome gargoyle who’s not going to know what hit him.

Chapter Twenty-One

TEAGUE

Macklin’s sharp inhale has me gripping the phone. “What?” Silence. I lift the phone and see we’re still connected. “Damn it. Talk to me. Is Charli okay?”

There’s a harsh exhale and a low muttered curse. “Fine. More than fine.” His laugh is strained as if something has a grip on him. “Damn.”

Nonplussed, I contemplate his words, but he’s being deliberately evasive. “Have Victoria pull an entire wardrobe for her and send it over this week,” I order.

Charli always looks beautiful, but she needs more clothes. Ones that fit her personality and the confident woman waiting to emerge.

“Will do.”

“Do you want me to go out and talk to Ames? I’ve gotten to know him pretty well at our monthly poker games,” I ask Macklin. He’s not exactly the friendliest dragon I’ve met.

“You’ve got a date, remember? I’ll go. My responsibility,” he states firmly. “Make sure she takes that lodestone with her tonight. It really helped steady her. And don’t let anyone touch her.”

“I’ve got it,” I gruffly state, frustrated that he tries to take on everything by himself. “And when you get back, we’re going to talk about you and her. Charli feels the connection, and so do you. She’s stronger than you think. It’s past time, Macklin.”

He’s silent for a second. “Here she comes. I’ll have her back in an hour. She hasn’t eaten lunch yet.” He hangs up.

I grin. Protective by nature, he’s chafing at the thought of his possible mate strolling around without him. I need to make sure he spends more time alone with her, stretch those rigid boundaries of his until he breaks and claims his mate.

My grin fades. Then we need to figure out what to do about Andros. Raine assured me he was also her mate, but it’s hard to think about letting him near her again. It was too fucking close. I honestly didn’t think I’d make it in time, and I still can’t get the sight of her at the bottom of the stairs out of my head.

Damn it. Why does it feel like we’re missing something? Andros has been triggered in the past, and it’s never been this bad. Macklin said he was almost feral. His sole focus was getting to her. I can’t help but think this has something to do with her being his mate, but unfortunately, he isn’t willing to reach out to other vampires. We need more information.

I bring up my phone and shoot off a text to Ronan in Ireland, an ancient vampire who’s seen it all, and a close friend.

Teague: Hey, you crotchety old bastard. Where’s that Irish whiskey you promised to send me?