Magic Binds by Ilona Andrews Page B

uneasy.
    This wasn’t me. None of this was me.
    I had a lot of energy I desperately needed to burn off. My whole body buzzed. I had packed a magical punch but never let it rip, and the unspent magic was driving me crazy.
    I parked in front of Cutting Edge, walked to the office, and stuck my key into the lock. The key wouldn’t turn. Being a trained detective, I deduced that the door was unlocked.
    I didn’t want to see anybody or talk to anybody. I wanted an hour by myself so I could have a lovely date with a heavy punching bag.
    Standing here with the key in the lock was stupid, so I opened the door and walked in. Ascanio, our bouda intern, sat at his desk, holding cards. Roman occupied the chair across from him.
    Oy.
    The black volhv was wearing his trademark black robe with silver embroidery along the hem. His knotted six-foot-tall staff stood propped against the wall. The staff’s top, carved into a monstrous bird head, remained wooden for now. I gave it the evil eye. It had the annoying habit of coming to life and trying to bite me.
    â€œSo three of a kind beats two pair?” Ascanio said.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut that makes no sense. Two pair requires four cards, but three of a kind only requires three. That’s harder to get.”
    â€œStatistically, the odds of getting two pair are higher than three cards of the same rank.”
    â€œYou’re wasting your time,” I told him. “Ascanio has the worst poker face I’ve ever seen.”
    â€œI have a strategy,” Ascanio announced.
    â€œAha.”
    â€œI’m going to play with women and distract them with my smolder.” Ascanio unleashed a devastating smile. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful seventeen-year-old kid I’d ever seen. He even beat out pre-injury Derek, although Derek always had a kind of boyish, disarming sincerity about him, while Ascanio knew exactly what he was doing. Which was why he needed to be taken down a notch.
    â€œLet’s see it.”
    â€œSee what?” He blinked.
    â€œThe smolder.”
    Okay, I had to admit the smolder looked pretty good. “Needs improvement. Work more on seductive and less on constipated.”
    â€œI don’t look constipated.”
    I glanced at Roman.
    â€œNah,” the volhv said. “Constipated isn’t your problem. You’re too slick about it. Women sense when you’re faking.”
    â€œWhat am I supposed to do about that?”
    â€œStop trying so hard.” The black volhv pivoted to me. “I have questions.”
    â€œCan it wait?”
    â€œNo. Your wedding is in two weeks. Have you prepared your guest list?”
    â€œWhy do I need a list? I kind of figured that whoever wanted to show up would show up.”
    â€œYou need a list so you know how many people you are feeding. Do you have a caterer?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œBut you did order the cake?”
    â€œUmm . . .”
    â€œFlorist?”
    â€œFlorist?”
    â€œThe person who delivers expensive flowers and sets them up in pretty arrangements everyone ignores?”
    â€œNo.”
    Roman blinked. “I’m almost afraid to ask. Do you at least have the dress?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIs it white?”
    â€œYes.”
    He squinted at me. “Is it a wedding dress?”
    â€œIt’s a white dress.”
    â€œHave you worn it before?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    Ascanio snickered.
    â€œThe ring, Kate?”
    Oh crap.
    Roman heaved a sigh. “What do you think this is, a party where you get to show up, say ‘I do,’ and go home?”
    â€œYes?” That’s kind of how it went in my head.
    â€œYou do realize most of the
Who’s Who
in Atlanta are going to want an invite to this?”
    â€œThey can bite me. This wedding is for me and Curran, not for them.”
    Roman leaned his elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his hand, looking at me with a kind of amused