Page 29 of Enticing Monsters

Caleb takes over the conversation. “However, I was able to utilize my contacts to clear the area, but only for a few minutes. You have, at most, five minutes to get to the portal and through it. When you get out, you’ll have to take out the guards on your own.”

Take out the guards on my own? Sounds fun. I’ve been itching for a good fight.

“Remember, you and I are shopping,” I remind Caleb through the opened driver’s window, moving to join Foster. “And you better find me at least one replacement blade to back that story up,” I warn him. “Give Foster a ride home, and then meet me here in about an hour.”

He flicks his gaze to Foster before turning his attention back my way. His eyes are soft when he looks at me. I can tell he doesn’t necessarily like my decision to travel into Faerie by myself, but he trusts me. And he knows I’m right when I say this is a trip I need to make on my own. Yes, he could come with me, but a tiny voice in the back of my head—the same one that’s promising me I’ll be okay—warns me against it.

Not safe for him.

“Be safe, okay? You’re not the worst little sister, and I don’t want to train a new one. Or have to deal with Mom.”

Yeah, that’s definitely the scarier option.

“I’m always safe,” I tell him with a bravado I don’t fully feel.

It seems as though energy is throbbing under my skin. I almost expect to see sparks shooting out of my fingertips. Is it possible my magic knows what I’m doing? That’s not possible, right? Does it have something to do with my inner voice? Why do I feel such an innate sense of comfort and security?

I push the questions away and smile at Foster. “If you can show me where it is, I’ll apologize again for interrupting your day.”

His fingers brush my cheek, trailing gently across the corner of my lips. “You don’t owe me an apology. I like spending time with you. Though if I get my ass kicked, I’ll probably ask you to help bandage me up.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to just ask Gage to heal you?” I challenge him as we head inside.

I keep my focus on him, my steps purposeful. Running or looking constantly over my shoulder would both advertise that I’m up to no good.

The lobby isn’t too busy this early in the morning, and fortunately, I see no one who looks to be fae. Thank god. I don’t want to have to explain myself if I were to run into anyone I know.

I skirt around a businessman talking on the phone and carrying a suitcase. Across the lobby, a young mom bounces her baby while talking to an older woman.

Just act natural, Sera.

Foster chuckles, pulling my attention back to him and the conversation. “You seriously think he’d heal me after I let you go off like this? Lost, I’ll be lucky if he’s not the one pummeling me.”

We wind our way through hallways and down staircases, doing our best to avoid running into anyone else. The few people we pass by don’t even seem to notice us, their focus on their own tasks.

The door he finally pauses in front of is plain wood, simple and unremarkable, looking like a common janitor’s closet, and a pout wants to form on my lips. This is the entrance to a magical world? I was expecting a swirling portal on a wall or even the transporter pads fromStar Trek, not the linen closet fromSabrina.

Fortunately, there are no guards that I can see, and I have to mentally thank Caleb once again for pulling a few strings. I have no idea how he did it, but I’m grateful.

Even if he is going to kill me once this is all said and done.

Foster grabs the knob, pushes the door open, and ushers us inside before letting it click shut behind him. The room should be pitch black, but a soft golden glow seems to spark inside, making my heart throb in the same rhythm. When I squint, I can make out what appears to be a mirror but seems to pulsate like rippling water. The dull glow emanates from it, though it does very little to disperse all of the shadows

Foster clears his throat and swings his backpack around to unzip it. He hands me a little vial not much bigger than my thumbnail.

I glance between it and the bag, smirking slightly. “You really needed the bag for this?”

“I needed the bag because I’m not sure what we’ll find,” he informs me, pulling another tiny vial from his pack.

“No. No, no, no!” I move to snatch it from his hand, but he merely holds it over his head.

Curse my shortness! Foster isn’t tall by any means, but compared to me, he’s practically a giant.

“You are so not doing this,” I scold him, hands going to my hips, though I’m careful not to break the glass in my fist.

I know he swiped these from Xander, and I doubt it’d be easy to get more.

God, I’m an idiot. How did I not notice what he’s wearing? When have I ever seen Foster in sweatpants and an athletic shirt? Not that I’m complaining—he looks sexy as hell, and the fabric clings to his muscles like a second skin—butcome on. That should’ve been the first indicator that something was up.

---