Page 31 of Dead Ringer

Frost snaked out across the surface of the table from where Taliyah had her fist balled in the tablecloth. “He’s allowed to be around my children, because I trust him. I trust him with them. In fact, I trust him with my life.”

Maverick smirked, but the expression sat on his face like a mask that didn’t quite fit right. There was surprise there, and something small and pleased. I didn’t think that Maverick was used to being the kind of person that people trusted. And I was happy for him that Taliyah felt that way about him, even if I was as surprised as Cain was that she’d admitted it.

Cain didn’t exactly look mollified, but he also probably realized that it wasn’t a fight he had any chance of winning, so he just grunted.

“I’m watching you,” he told Maverick, low and threatening.

Maverick mock saluted him with his water glass. “Join the club,” he said, mockingly.

Chapter Eleven

What in the world did you wear when you were undercover?

I would have guessed something that you wouldn’t wear normally when you were yourself, which ruled out pretty much anything in my closet. That meant I was in need of a brand-new outfit before the auction later tonight.

When I’d told Cain we were going to have to go shopping, he’d groaned like a man being sent to the big house.

For the love of God, Darla. Just wear pants. Anything with pants.

I guess I could throw him a bone. He’d gotten better about me wearing my skirts and dresses, after all. And we didn’t know what we might be heading into, so something I could run in wasn’t a bad idea.

I’d wanted to go into Wanda’s Witchery to take a look at what fun things Wanda had on hand. A scarf to help disguise my appearance, or a blouse that gave me good luck. That kind of thing would have come in real handy. Wanda made all her clothes herself, weaving enchantments right into the fabric, and they could do some pretty peachy keen things. Besides, something told me we could use all the help we could get.

But Cain, the big palooka, had taken one look through the big front window, saw that Maverick was working, and he’d actually taken control enough to march me down the street and away from the door.

We’d had some choice words about that. You better believe it. But after the painfully awkward dinner the night before, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be stuck in a room with the big lug and Maverick again anytime soon, anyway. So, in the end, Cain got his way, and I went looking for my duds elsewhere.

It took me hours, and my dogs were barking by the end of it, but I finally found something I thought could work. It was a champagne silk camisole with gorgeous beadwork around the neckline, and then a kind of sheer throw in the same color. It showed off my curves as much as anything could without a magnifying glass, and made me look like I was sashaying around in a cloud of gold dust. I even managed to pair it with some wide-legged pants, so Cain would stop fussing at me.

We agreed to disagree on the shoes. I was fine with flats, but no way was I forcing my feet into one of his hideous choices, which were all black boots and some even had steel toes.

Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t give Wanda a call. She knew clothes better than anyone I’d ever met, but it also seemed a bit hinky, since apparently, I wasn’t allowed to buy anything from her store (Cain’s rules, not mine). After a minute, I decided against it. It was still early afternoon, anyway, so Wanda might not have even been awake yet.

Wanda had had to give her schedule the old switcheroo after a bunch of vampires got a bug in their bonnets about her being a Blood Witch. They wanted her all the way turned into a vampire, and neither her nor Lorcan were keen on that idea. So, they’d decided to give the vamps the bum’s rush, and bamboozled them all into thinking Wanda was a vampire. It meant she didn’t come out during the day anymore, but if it kept those rat finks off her tail, then it was all applesauce as far as I was concerned.

And, anyway, I didn’t want to risk it. Wanda, first thing in the morning, was frightening. Especially before that first cup of joe. I didn’t want to get hexed, so I’d just have to go with my gut.

Are you done yet?

I got the impression of him crossing his arms, which was kind of funny since he was only in my head.Being here is making me sweat,he continued.

You can’t sweat. You’re inside my head.

Point is: I don’t like that you were being followed.

Okay, that was kind of sweet. Who knew it, big tough police chief was all sweet and gooey on the inside.

What a gentleman,I thought, only half-teasing.

I was pretty pleased with my haul, all things considered. The rest was just picking the right accessories, the jewelry that was expensive enough, but not in a gaudy way, that would let me pass for the sort of dame who went around spending huge wads of bucks on ugly old art statues. At least I had an example from Magda Erepto’s wake. All those dames dressed up like a million bucks, all chi-chi at a funeral, even.

“Darla? Hey, Darla!”

A familiar voice calling my name had me turning around on the sidewalk, my bags bumping against my gams.

Henner smiled as he made his way over to me, and it was pure reflex to smile back at him.

“Hey,” he said, pushing his hair back off his forehead. “I tried calling you earlier, but I think your phone isn’t working.”

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