Ethan put his hands behind him, then lifted his legs, rolled his body weight, and flipped onto his feet. He slid me a glance. I swallowed, not entirely comfortable that I'd put my Master on the floor again, even if I had eventually come to learn the lesson he'd been trying to teach. Then his expression softened.
"Better," he said.
I bowed respectfully, the student thanking the teacher for a lesson well taught. That lesson done, it was time to move on to the next crisis. "When do we leave for the pre-meeting?"
"In an hour. Get changed and meet me in the basement." I nodded, then walked back to the edge of the mat and grabbed my T-shirt, shoes, and, most crucial, my katana. I assumed I was going to need it.
CHAPTER FIVE
BOYS' NIGHT OUT
"What do you wear if you're playing security for alpha shape-shifters?"
I stood in front of my open closet in a robe, but glanced back at Lindsey, who sat cross-legged on my bed, a bag of strawberry licorice sticks in her lap.
"Nothing at all?" she said with a grin.
"I'm wearing clothes."
"Spoilsport. But if you're going to play prude, might as well play sexy prude. Didn't you say Gabriel mentioned leather?"
The snark aside, she had a point. After all, I did own a set of buttery black leather that had been a gift from Mallory and Catcher for my twenty-eighth birthday—snug pants, bandeau-type corset, and trim, motorcycle-style jacket. It was a fabulous outfit, but it was so urban-fantasy book cover.
"Vampires in leather are so cliche," I said.
"I'm not disagreeing with you, but the shifters would appreciate it. They're all over leather."
"Yeah, I got that sense." But that much leather—and that little torso coverage—wasn't my ideal fighting ensemble, so I flipped through some tank tops, looking for something that might replace the bandeau bra.
On the other hand, leather pants and a tank top seemed a little too Linda Hamilton.
"Maybe a compromise," I murmured, pulling the leather jacket from its wooden hanger. I laid it on the bed along with my Cadogan suit pants and a simple black tank, then stepped back to take a look.
The jacket added a definite element of kick-assery to the slim-fit pants and tank. The outfit was still all business, but the kind of business that promised repercussions if the deal didn't go through. With a bloodred katana at my waist, and a gold Cadogan medal around my neck, I might be able to pull it off.
"Well," Lindsey said, "that's a Merit I can get behind. Try it on." When I was dressed, I grabbed a black elastic from the top of my bureau and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Since I'd be with Ethan, I skipped clipping on my Cadogan pager, but I slid my cell phone into one pocket of my jacket and picked up my katana.
Outfit assembled, I spun around so Lindsey could get a look. She nodded and stood up. "Only one question—can you work that outfit? Can you own it?" I glanced back at the mirror, took in the leather and sword, and smiled. "Why, yes. I believe I can." I met Ethan in the basement beside the door that led to the underground parking garage. I had actually sashayed down the stairs, ready to stun Mr. Compliment into silence.
As luck would have it, I was the one surprised, because I hadn't been the only one to rethink my ensemble: Ethan apparently took Gabriel's "no Armani" instruction to heart. He came downstairs in jeans. Perfectly shaped jeans that fit his hips, then fell to cover dark boots. He'd paired them with a snug gray T-shirt that was practically molded to his chest. His golden hair was loose, framing cut cheekbones and killer green eyes. I'm strong enough to admit it—I stared.
Ethan gave me a slow, eyebrow-arched perusal, masculine appreciation in his eyes. When he finally nodded, I assumed I'd passed the test.
"You're wearing jeans."
He glanced over at me with amusement, then typed numbers into the keypad beside the garage door.
Ethan's sleek, black Mercedes convertible and a few other vehicles owned by higher-ranking vampires (i.e., not newbies like me) were parked inside.
"I am capable of dressing as the occasion requires."
"Apparently," I muttered, irritation in my voice. That was a childish emotion, sure, but the man wasn't supposed to look better than me. He was supposed to be awed by my new, sleek style.
Not that I cared what he thought, I lied to myself.
Ethan beeped his security system, then opened the passenger side door for me.
"So very gracious," I said as I climbed inside, arranging my katana inside the tiny coupe.