I'd taken the time to do a quick outfit change in my Porsche, as I knew I'd hear no end of grief from Chris if I'd rocked up to his show wearing my bodysuit. Despite it being skintight, he always told me it was like a sexy wetsuit. Totally fine for killing people in, but not okay for a fabulous drag show. Instead, I was in a sharply-laced, black leather corset which boosted my tits up to the point of indecency, a tight red pencil skirt with a space in the back for my tails, and flirty black patent leather stilettos with red bows on the toes. My long, black hair was in a fishtail braid over my shoulder and all together, I looked like a pinup dominatrix. Hot as fuck.
"Tell me, Thea," Mikhail said quietly, finally breaking his gaze from my throat and pinning me with his intense stare, "were you planning on informing the guild that you'd acquired a ninth tail?"
And by guild, he totally meant, were you planning on informing me?
Ice ran through me at his words and I turned back to watch the show, if only to give me a moment to catch my breath. There was a reason Mikhail was the acting head of RADOPA. He was as old as the hills and powerful as fuck. He was also ruthless, bloodthirsty, and loyal to no one but himself.
"I didn't think it was necessary," I whispered, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
"Not necessary?" Mik repeated in his velvety, soft voice. Nothing good came from that voice.
Shit. I'm in so much trouble.
"I figured you already knew. The guild has eyes everywhere, right?" Picking up my dignity, and courage, I turned back to him and met his deep, blue gaze with an unblinking stare.
"You know, eight years you've worked for me, and I still can't decide if you're the bravest kitsune alive, or the stupidest," he remarked, but the deadly edge was gone from his voice. Instead, there was something far more concerning: amusement.
He held my eyes for a really tense moment, until eventually I cracked and ducked my own to his chin. Holding the wolf alpha's gaze had been hard, but holding Mik's was impossible. Not that I was a particularly submissive—read not at all submissive—person, but hell, he was just this perfect mix of pretty and intimidating. As Chris would say, fucking scrumptious. I had no idea what ethnicity he was, but he had this ageless sort of face, masculine but far from Neanderthal in its proportions. Add in those big, round eyes that always seemed to be permanently half-lidded, and a mouth that was fuller and juicier than my own, and hell, I was both jealous and turned-on. Mikhail Ravena was an all-American asshole in a trench coat. Be still, my ovaries.
The vampire made a satisfied noise that I'd clearly come to my senses, and gestured at the bartender for a new drink to replace the one he'd tipped out. While we waited, neither one of us spoke, so I turned my attention back to the energetic drag queen lip-syncing for her life onstage.
"I trust I don't need to remind you how vital it is that you succeed on Sunday?" Mikhail finally said, and I looked at him sharply from the corner of my eye.
"I'm aware," I snapped, not liking his implication that I retained anything less than a one-hundred-percent success rate. Not even the goddamn snake shifters had a perfect record, and those bastards were deadly as fuck.
"Good. Then I trust there won't be any trouble caused by your people over this new development?" He reached out and stroked a finger down one of my silky white tails. The way the nine of them sat behind me gave the illusion of a bustled train, like they were a part of a burlesque outfit.
One little known fact about a kitsune's tail though, was that they were a major erogenous zone, and having someone stroke them like Mik had just done was akin to having him run his tongue up my inner thigh.
Little known fact it may be, but he damn well knew what he'd just done.
"Cunt tease," I whispered, swishing my tails out of reach and grabbing the drink the bartender had passed over to us. Service had been okay when I'd ordered … It was flawless for Mikhail. Heh, guess in a gay bar I probably should've made my way over to the female barkeep at the other end of the room.
"Cunt tease?" Mikhail asked, his voice tinged with the tiniest bit of humor. But my attempts at being playful and coy seemed to fall flat in the wake of our sexual tension. Years we'd been holding onto it. Years. Frankly, I just sort of wanted to fuck the guy and be done with it. Hearing him say the word cunt in a voice made of velvet and night was not helping me resist.
"Date rape," I murmured as I popped the tiny colored straw between my lips and rolled my eyes. "When's the last time you ever heard of a lesbian date-raping anyone? Now men, that's where the real danger lies." I flicked my gaze in Mikhail's direction and found a bored, assholish sort of quality sitting on his features. He'd play with me for a moment or two, but then his ageless ass always inevitably dropped back into work mode.
"Perhaps that was the wrong term to use. Thea, this job makes fine enemies, the best in the world. Death is a glue that never fails to bond."
"Yawn," I said, focusing on Chris as he killed Katy Perry's Peacock with these flawless little shoulder shimmies that sent his fake boobies a jiggling. They were super nice silicone ones I'd bought for his birthday—boobsforqueens.com, no joke. It was a thing. "I'm aware of my limitations, Mik, thank you."
"Are you though?" he asked, lifting a dark brow. I couldn't look at him, not right then. My blood was still on fire from my encounter with that psychotic piece of shit alpha. Wow. I mean, what a crazy fuck! And yet … yet … I shifted and tried to pretend my thighs weren't clenching together, hot wet heat blooming down below. "Then how on earth do you expect to take your target down on Sunday with absolutely zero magic?"
Uh-oh.
My face paled and I sucked down a little more of my drink. I wasn't going to get through this meeting without a lot of tequila in my blood.
"I'm assuming you braved wolf territory to find the skulk?"
"Earth," I said, because the word skulk was reserved for trying to placate assholes in life and death situations only. It was too pejorative to come from my boss' lips. "And yes. I went to get my tail bound."
"And came back with no magic. What happened, Thea?" Mikhail asked me, standing up and letting his long red military coat swish with the movement. He moved to block me from Fae-Bitch's performance and I reached up to swat him out of the way.
It was like swatting bricks, hitting that asshole in his flat, firm, perfect chest.
"What happened?" he repeated, that Lucullan voice of his twisting my insides into knots. Fucker. I sucked down the rest of my drink and cranked my head to watch as Chris finished his song, disappearing behind the curtains for a quick outfit change. That boy was fierce.
"Can you just wait until the show is over?" I asked, feeling righteously bitchy. I might've been a part of the guild, but I still deserved my own time, right? And any man that got between me and my bestie was going to get the same treatment the alpha wolf got—a swift kick to the nuts.
"Thea," he said, folding his arms over his chest, that stupid coat, those tight leather pants … the way his t-shirt stretched over his muscles. I blinked and refocused my attention on his face, trying to put on my best no big deal voice.
"Ah, nothing big. Fin used his mating rights to demand I find him a replacement wife, that's all."
"Wait," Mik said, sliding his hands into his coat pockets and closing his eyes tight. As a member of the undead, he didn't really get the whole bestial, animalistic mating thing. At least, he pretended not to. The way he looked at me sometimes, I couldn't help but wonder if that was a lie. Sure seemed like he'd put up a wild, violent sort of fuck, one that left the sheets torn and soaked with sweat, the body achingly sore. "Your ex-husband had your magic stripped so that you'd find him a new wife? That's … it's fucking barbaric."
"It's fine. As soon as Chris is done onstage, I'm going to ask him if he knows anyone. Easy-peasy, right? I mean, he knows everyone in the supernatural community."