from dangling open like a broken door with one rusted-out hinge, but Tristan wasn’t so lucky. She imagined the pictures in tomorrow’s paper would be less than flattering.
She didn’t know what the hell Dred was playing at, but she decided for the moment to just go with the flow. She could have slapped him, hexed him, made a big show, but his announcement could benefit her and the charity later.
After all, he’d claimed her as his fiancée in public, in front of witnesses, the silly warlock. She’d have him over a barrel when he tried to get out of it and then she could guarantee his support of the Gargoyle Masque for years to come.
Plus, Tally would get a great kick out of Tristan’s startled face on the front page of Magickal Mayhem tomorrow.
The reporters rushed them in the middle of the dance floor and security had to push them back outside. They were all madly hooked on Dred Shadowins’s announcement and the look of total devastation on the hero’s face.
CHAPTER SIX
Down and Dirty
“The car’s magickally sealed, we can talk inside,” Dred whispered in her ear as he pushed her to a waiting limousine.
She wasn’t sure if she was thankful or disappointed that they weren’t going to teleport again. Middy had liked being pressed up against him and smelling his cologne and . . .
“Are you listening?”
No, not really. Just watching your mouth move, that strong jawline, those sensual lips, and thinking about using you like a gigolo.
“Huh? No, sorry. I was a little distracted.”
If she’d been thinking correctly, she would have sat next to him instead of across from him. Why? Because he was the only place that there was to look and she’d been jilling-off to him for so long that she was wet just looking at him.
She felt like a Pavlovian dog, setting her girly bits to slob-bering when the bell rang. Middy wondered if she was going to soak through her dress and leave a spot on the leather. Or worse, she was going to have to sit with her legs clamped together. If she relaxed her knees, he’d be able to see up to her muffin.
Damn Tally for making her go sans panties. She was going to choke that witch twice when she got home.
“I’m going to tell you something that you can’t tell anyone else. I need your witch’s word. On your magick.”
She didn’t think that Dred Shadowins knew anything that was worth her witch’s word. He made it sound like he was about to drop a state secret on her or something. There was a weighted intensity about him that hadn’t been there before, a seriousness.
“I swear on my magick that I won’t tell anyone else.” Middy felt the binding of her vow slide through her.
He seemed to relax a little bit. “Obviously, I need you to pose as my fiancée.”
“I gathered that much from your oh-so-sudden announcement. You’re lucky I didn’t hex your balls off for that.”
“You weren’t enjoying Tristan’s slug of a tongue in your mouth anyway. I thought you’d be happy for the save.”
“You shoved me in front of the paparazzi like a sacrificial lamb.”
“Sorry about that and I’m equally sorry to say that for the run of this charade, that’s not going to change.” He shrugged.
“A little warning would have been nice.”
“Hence our discussion here, in a magickally sealed con-veyance instead of teleporting. You were amazingly cool under pressure, by the way,” he said as he pulled his eye patch off.
“Thank you, but can we get to the whys and wherefores?
And it better be for a good reason, or I’m not doing it.”
He took a breath as if to fortify himself. “I’m a spy.” Dred watched her carefully and when she didn’t respond, he continued. “I need a fiancée to move about through certain social circles to find out who is smuggling dark objects. These warlocks are doing horrible things and if I don’t stop them, we could end up at war with the gargoyles again.”
“You’re planting stink pickles.”
“Pardon me?” Dred
She didn’t know what the hell Dred was playing at, but she decided for the moment to just go with the flow. She could have slapped him, hexed him, made a big show, but his announcement could benefit her and the charity later.
After all, he’d claimed her as his fiancée in public, in front of witnesses, the silly warlock. She’d have him over a barrel when he tried to get out of it and then she could guarantee his support of the Gargoyle Masque for years to come.
Plus, Tally would get a great kick out of Tristan’s startled face on the front page of Magickal Mayhem tomorrow.
The reporters rushed them in the middle of the dance floor and security had to push them back outside. They were all madly hooked on Dred Shadowins’s announcement and the look of total devastation on the hero’s face.
CHAPTER SIX
Down and Dirty
“The car’s magickally sealed, we can talk inside,” Dred whispered in her ear as he pushed her to a waiting limousine.
She wasn’t sure if she was thankful or disappointed that they weren’t going to teleport again. Middy had liked being pressed up against him and smelling his cologne and . . .
“Are you listening?”
No, not really. Just watching your mouth move, that strong jawline, those sensual lips, and thinking about using you like a gigolo.
“Huh? No, sorry. I was a little distracted.”
If she’d been thinking correctly, she would have sat next to him instead of across from him. Why? Because he was the only place that there was to look and she’d been jilling-off to him for so long that she was wet just looking at him.
She felt like a Pavlovian dog, setting her girly bits to slob-bering when the bell rang. Middy wondered if she was going to soak through her dress and leave a spot on the leather. Or worse, she was going to have to sit with her legs clamped together. If she relaxed her knees, he’d be able to see up to her muffin.
Damn Tally for making her go sans panties. She was going to choke that witch twice when she got home.
“I’m going to tell you something that you can’t tell anyone else. I need your witch’s word. On your magick.”
She didn’t think that Dred Shadowins knew anything that was worth her witch’s word. He made it sound like he was about to drop a state secret on her or something. There was a weighted intensity about him that hadn’t been there before, a seriousness.
“I swear on my magick that I won’t tell anyone else.” Middy felt the binding of her vow slide through her.
He seemed to relax a little bit. “Obviously, I need you to pose as my fiancée.”
“I gathered that much from your oh-so-sudden announcement. You’re lucky I didn’t hex your balls off for that.”
“You weren’t enjoying Tristan’s slug of a tongue in your mouth anyway. I thought you’d be happy for the save.”
“You shoved me in front of the paparazzi like a sacrificial lamb.”
“Sorry about that and I’m equally sorry to say that for the run of this charade, that’s not going to change.” He shrugged.
“A little warning would have been nice.”
“Hence our discussion here, in a magickally sealed con-veyance instead of teleporting. You were amazingly cool under pressure, by the way,” he said as he pulled his eye patch off.
“Thank you, but can we get to the whys and wherefores?
And it better be for a good reason, or I’m not doing it.”
He took a breath as if to fortify himself. “I’m a spy.” Dred watched her carefully and when she didn’t respond, he continued. “I need a fiancée to move about through certain social circles to find out who is smuggling dark objects. These warlocks are doing horrible things and if I don’t stop them, we could end up at war with the gargoyles again.”
“You’re planting stink pickles.”
“Pardon me?” Dred
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