Page 9 of Sigils & Spells

That I might be in over my head.

So I simply wait, my arms wrapped around my waist as I hug myself, praying to all the gods and goddesses that might ever have existed that I’m wrong.

That Ivan is the philanthropist he purports to be.

And not the mad scientist I’m beginning to suspect he actually is.

CHAPTER6

ANGEL

“Are you sure about this?”I ask Q as he gets prepped in the waiting room. I can’t explain why his decision to be Ivan’s latest test subject has me so worried, but it does. Since I’ve been here, I’ve done very little security for Ivan himself. Usually, he has me running errands, guarding his deliveries, and every so often, guarding those people he deems valuable, like Dr. Fitton when he leaves this place to go home.

Like the little pouty-mouthed bruja who’s always undressing me with her eyes when she thinks I’m not looking…

I swallow nervously as Q slips on his compression shirt. I’ve never guarded a test subject before, and as usual, Ivan isn’t the most forthcoming withwhatexactly they’re testing, or why security is so important for a patientafterthey’ve been injected.

Q does nothing to ease my worry about the topic either. Instead, he only waves me off every time I mention it, like I’m an idiot for even questioning such things.

Ivan pays us both good money to not ask questions.

“As sure as the paycheck I’m going to get when this is over,” Q says with a crooked smile. I watch as he slides the smartwatch on, and I note that he looks like he’s ready for a run in the city and not some medical testing.

“What if what he gives you … hurts you?” I ask, making one last attempt at sanity and protecting my friend.

I’ve known Q for a long time, and I owe him for getting me this job, but even if he hadn’t I would still do everything I could to make sure my friend was okay.

It’s just how I’m wired. I protect the people I care about, no matter the cost.

But there are things I can’t control.Like my mother’s illness, or my father’s ailing health.

Q claps me on the shoulder. “There is nothing Ivan Cambridge can do to hurt me,mi herma no,”he says, his warm eyes staring back at me. My heart sinks and my shoulders loosen at his words. Like me, Q’s always had it rough, but he didn’t have the foundation I did. He spent his youth on the very streets my mother tried to keep me from.

So when he says no one can hurt him, he’s not bluffing. Q’s been through more bullshit than anyone I know, and he always comes out of it on top.

I nod in approval as he smiles, his thin lips stretching into a grin that reaches his ears.

* * *

When we reachDr. Fitton’s lab, the air is different. It’s tense.

Dr. Fitton types something on his computer as Evie bustles about with a lot of test tubes and supplies, like some overworked intern.

I don’t miss how frazzled she seems, her beautiful blonde hair coming undone from her ponytail.

Dr. Fitton breaks into my wayward thoughts when he calls for Q to sit in the chair next to his computer. Evie nearly drops a test tube of shimmering pink liquid, but my reflexes are better than most, and I don’t think twice before I lunge, catching the tube in my bare hands just before it hits the ground. She stiffens like a rod. I take my time as I lean back up, noticing the shape of her pale legs as they contrast against her grey skirt. My first thought is how smooth they look, and instantly, I’m wracked with images of just what they’d look like slung over my shoulders. The thought brings my cock to attention, and I have to fight the urge to give in to temptations. Now is not the time or place…

I clear my throat as I fidget with the tube, our eyes finally meeting.

“Where should I put this?” I ask, my voice much breathier than it should be. I sound like I just ran a damn marathon.

How is it one perfect woman can take my breath away like this?

Evie’s cheeks pinken just a bit, and just as she opens her mouth, Dr. Fitton cuts in.

“You can give it to me, Angel,” he orders. I look from him to Q, who smiles like a pig in shit.

I walk the short distance and hand Dr. Fitton the tube. He takes it from my hands without haste, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve just signed some death sentence, given the way the tension thickens in the room.

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