Angel
The day was a disaster by 9 a.m. As soon as the doors opened, a throng of students bee-lined to my booth. My table had started the morning lined with pamphlets and free pens and memo pads—now it held an unruly mountain of résumés, photo books and flash drives. Most students had provided videos of their powers, but for some reason, others felt that live demonstrations would win me over.
A gust of wind whipped at the papers, sending them soaring as a wind-powered girl in a unitard showed off her skills.
“No power demonstrations, please,” I raised my voice, for all the good it did. And please reconsider the yellow spandex bodysuit. As soon as the wind girl set her drive on the table, a boy stepped up and shimmering silver bubbles spilled from his palms. As he popped them, they each played a note of music, plinking to the tune of “Don’t Pass Me By”. Obscure Beatles songs weren’t winning him extra points.
Quan stepped in for the seventh time. “No demonstrations.”
The boy’s bubbles all popped in a discordant chorus of notes and he dropped a binder before slinking away. I wanted to bang my forehead against the table.
Musical bubbles? How could that possibly help in investigations?
Thank the sweet Lord for Quan. If he weren’t here, I would’ve drowned by now.
Not one of these students would listen. My job regularly involved talking down drunk heroes, dealing with the paparazzi and wading through fierce legal battles, but my authority had no power with these kids, who were much too eager to show off.
“No” seemed to be college slang for “please try harder”.
When the doors closed for the noon lunch break and the last students trickled away, I wanted to collapse. Instead I put my head on my arms, resting on a pile of wrinkled résumés. Quan slipped into the chair at my side. “We really have to do that again?”
“Those were just the freshmen and sophomores.” After lunch, the upperclassmen were up, and I was praying that the morning was an example of immaturity. It couldn’t be the same thing twice.
It just couldn’t.
My head would split open.
I hadn’t realized that Quan had disappeared until he touched my arm with a cold glass of iced coffee. I wasn’t doing my supervisory duty very well today. “And where’d you get this?”
“You’d be surprised what you can get when you flash fangs to a freshman.” Quan revealed his pointed canines in a sneaky smile.
My pulse gave a traitorous thump. I should chastise him if he was really threatening students, but I couldn’t argue with his results. Coffee was absolutely necessary for my survival, and I liked that he’d provided it.
Quan was oddly caring and observant for a man so eager to fight.
If we ever got to a point where he was giving me regular smiles I wasn’t sure what I’d do about it. Probably panic, if anything.
Only a few more days.
He’d be out of my life once we got back to New York.
When the doors closed for the night at 6 p.m., I was ready to crawl into a hole. I had a run in my stocking, a mind-splitting headache and about fifty pounds of charred résumés to read through thanks to a fire-powered senior. The show-offs had been in the minority in the afternoon, but it only took one or two to make a mess.
We retreated to the hotel to get ready for the cocktail party. Getting dressed up and smiling was the last thing I wanted, but at least it gave me an excuse to wear my Nanette Lepore dress. The neckline was a little deep, but I was in love with the lacy black silhouette.
After caking on concealer to cover my dark circles, I went with a bold orange-red lip, hoping it would draw attention from my crabby attitude. I needed to get my act together before meeting with Rich. Digging for information trumped all the recruitment hoopla.
Quan stood as I entered the sitting room, his gaze sweeping me up and down. Luckily, I was wearing too much foundation to blush.
“Looking good.”
I could’ve said the same. Quan wore the more formal of his new suits featuring tortoiseshell buttons and sharp lapels. He held out his tie. “Little help?”
“Of course.” I slipped the tie around his neck and started looping the fabric. He smelled as wild as the wind, and I tried to take short breaths to avoid inhaling too deep. Being this close made my skin prickle.
“Sure you’re up for this?” he asked.
“Are you?”
He shrugged, forcing my hands to shift with his movement. “I say we skip it.”
I was close to considering it, but with the way things were going, I’d never get another moment alone with Rich. I’d barely glimpsed him all day. “If only.”
“If you want to cut out early, I’ll make a distraction.”
That sounded better than it should, and he was reversing our roles. “Aren’t I supposed to say that?”
“Yeah? Then you make the distraction. I’ll sneak off.”
I swatted his shoulder, but a smile pulled at my lips. “Not likely.”
Quan’s amusement bled away and he stared down with serious orange-brown eyes. “You look beautiful.”
I wasn’t sure how to read that, and his tone wasn’t giving anything away. A courtesy compliment or something more?
Courtesy. Definitely courtesy.
I wasn’t ready to acknowledge that it could be anything else.
When Quan’s tie was finished, I was more than glad to step back. “Let’s get this over with.” For once, I was betting I’d be able to get some sleep.
If I lasted that long between the networking, conspiracies and tempting panther men.
Quan
I followed Angel to the car, not even trying to keep my eyes above the horizon.
Her little black dress clung to every curve, and she’d finally let her hair down in dark waves that fell past her shoulders. I had eyes, so I’d known she was pretty, but this was taking my breath away.
Brains and beauty.
Mom would be so proud if I took Angel home, but there was taking home and taking home. Angel wasn’t the type of girl who played around. But she should. The smiling Angel was the best one yet.
Chica seriously needed to rethink her career. We hopped in the limo and she was already on her phone, swiping through e-mails and texting.
Always being in touch sounded shitty by my standards, but no one in this world seemed to care about solitude. I rubbed a thumb against the fabric of my suit. The modern world did have a few advantages. Nice threads. Juicy steaks. Little black dresses…
Not that I was trading my jungle. Just visiting.
Traffic fucking blew. We were bumper-to-bumper all the way to the party. When we pulled up to a massive glass and chrome tower, I was pretty sure we’d arrived. The whole area smelled like fresh paint and new asphalt.
Apparently business was good.
That explained the press circus. A velvet rope blocked off the crowd of photographers, and a stage was set with a photo backdrop filled with logos—mostly the L.A. Pack’s.
I’d seen a few of their heroes at all these events. What pack?
My tribe could tear them apart. Shit, just B and I could take down most of the so-called heroes strolling around.
“You can skip the photos.” Angel straightened her hair in the tinted window. “I’ll pose for some pictures and meet you on the other side.”
I made a noncommittal grunt. We’ll see.
She took a deep breath and tapped on the window. The driver opened the door and Angel stepped into a lightning storm of flashes. I winced at the light and barrage of shouts and questions, but stuck close to Angel’s side.
As she started up the steps, I held back. It would be easy enough to cross behind the stage and leave her to it, but…
She didn’t need to be up there alone. Whether that was me keeping my word to Balam or because I was starting to see the woman under the hard-ass disguise—whatever. I just couldn’t leave her hanging.
I lunged over the two steps and reached the center of the stage at the same time as Angel.
“What are you doing?” She spoke through a forced smile.
“Showing the world how pretty I look in this suit.”
Her lashes fluttered, and the forced smile bled into a real one. “Fair enough.”
I’d eat that smile for breakfast.
I slipped in behind Angel to glare at the photographers when it hit me like one of the camera flashes. My hand had somehow slipped to Angel’s shoulder. Her smooth skin felt like silk against my palm and it took everything I had to keep from pulling her into my chest to block the photos.
Fuck.
That was territorial as shit.
Angel stared up at me, her plump lips parted. I started to lean in, then froze.
I didn’t…
That wasn’t…
Fuck me.