Storm of Sin - Patricia D. Eddy Page 0,63

“You are safest here. Promise me,” he growls then kisses me like he’s afraid he’s never going to see me again. “You will stay.”

“I’ll stay,” I gasp when he lets go. “The commander’s handing out assignments for tonight’s stakeout in an hour. Be back by then, okay?”

“I will try.”

Twenty-Six

Zoe

Where the hell is Sin? He’s been gone for two hours, and we’re supposed to head to a seedy bar in the Tenderloin in twenty minutes. The Bureau has a full wardrobe of undercover outfits tailored for each of its agents, and one of the witches helped me choose a tight black skirt, patterned stockings, and a shimmery red tank that dips low between my breasts and leaves next to nothing to the imagination.

Oh, and no bra.

“Stop fidgeting,” Amber says as she pins my hair up so delicate ringlets tease my neck. “That spell won’t hold the top to your boobs forever, you know. The more you tug at the material, the weaker it gets.”

“Great. So I need to worry about a wardrobe malfunction all night?”

The shy witch blushes. She can’t be much older than twenty, but her hazel eyes hold wisdom well beyond her years. “Not all night. Just maybe after 10:00 p.m. I’m trained in reading auras during interrogation. Physical magic was never my passion.”

“Auras?”

Amber steps back and gives me the once over. “Spin for me?”

I try and almost fall over with the three-inch heels I’m wearing. “Don’t we have anything more…sensible? How am I supposed to chase after anyone wearing these things?”

“Easy,” Amber says with a grin. “Just say the words, ‘Feet, don’t fail me now.’ They’ll turn into sneakers.”

“Really?” Just when I think I get a handle on this world, there’s something new to process. “Feet, don’t—“

“Not yet! Otherwise I’ll have to reset the whole spell!” Amber shakes her head. “Sorry, I should have said that up front. I forget that you’re human. You carry yourself like one of us.“

“I have no clue what the fuck I’m doing most of the time,” I admit. “But what do you mean ‘one of us’?”

“An other.” The witch frowns and narrows her eyes. “Stand still for a minute, okay?”

“Sure.” My skin tingles all over, like something inside me is desperate to escape. It’s probably just my desire to get out of these tight clothes, but Amber’s stare unnerves me, despite her shy personality. After a full two minutes, I start to fidget again. “Um, Amber? What are you doing?”

The witch flinches, like she forgot I was even here. “Sorry. I was trying to get a read on your aura, and it’s…weird.” Twirling a lock of blond hair around her finger, she chews on her bottom lip, then swallows hard enough I can hear it. “You’re not human, Zoe. I don’t know what you are. But you are definitely not human. And…” Amber huffs out what might be a laugh. “You knew.”

“Suspected,” I correct. “And I don’t know what I am either. You really have no idea?”

I would do almost anything for answers, and I think Sin has them, but every time we start talking about it, we end up fucking each other blind. So not helpful.

“No. It’s like…you’re human on the outside, but not the inside.” She shrugs. “It’s hard to explain. Like, there’s this other-ness deep in your soul, but your body…that’s human.”

I’m about to press her for more answers when my phone rings. The tight leather skirt has a hidden pocket at the small of my back, and I tap the single earbud in my left ear. “Sin? If you’re not back here in—“

“It’s Dion.” Her voice, usually so bubbly and effusive, holds an edge of strain, and I can hear people talking around her. “I just left my place, and I think the bitch who took Jacinda is following me. I’m scared, Zoe. What do I do?”

“Tell me where you are.” I nod at Amber and run—with very small steps thanks to this damn tight skirt—to my desk. “I hear people. You’re not alone, right?”

“I’m on Market Street. Ten blocks from Loup Noir. But, Zoe…shit. I don’t want to lead her there. And she’s getting closer.”

“Do not, under any circumstances, talk to her. Do you understand? Don’t let her say a word to you. Put in your earbuds, blast the music, stay where there are lots of people. I’ll meet you outside Macy’s in…um…ten minutes.”

“Just…hurry. Please.”

The Bureau has a pool of cars parked under the building, and I snatch up the keys for a Thunderbird and text Sin