Read Online Kate Daniels 03 - Magic Strikes by authors_sort - Free Book Online Page B
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debt to Saiman didn’t appeal to me in the least, and he knew it. Outmaneuvered yet again.
“Green is your color,” Saiman said in a conciliatory way. “I had the ao dai tailored to you. It should fit.”
I had no doubt it would. He’d probably turned into me and tried it on. “I’ll give it a shot.”
“I’ll pick you up at ten. And, Kate, perhaps a touch of makeup . . .”
“Would you like to assist me with my choice of underwear as well?”
My sarcasm whistled right over his head. “I would be delighted. While I’d love to see you in a balconette bra, I’m afraid for this particular occasion I would have to go with a foam-lined seamless due to the tight fit of the garment across your breasts . . . Perhaps I could come over and review what you have available . . .”
I hung up. A panty party with Saiman. Not in his wildest dreams.
EIGHT HOURS LATER, AS I STEPPED OUT OF SAIMAN’S car into the parking lot of the Arena, I reflected on the fact that he had proved right. Although the green silk hugged my chest, leaving absolutely no doubt that I was female, the dress widened below. Two slits sliced the ao dai on the sides, reaching an inch past the high waistband of the pants. The sleeves flared at the wrist, wide enough to mask my wrist guards, which I had filled with silver needles.
Unfortunately, there was nowhere to put my sword. That was okay. I didn’t mind carrying it.
Saiman held on to my passenger door. He chose to be tall and middle-aged tonight, a man past his prime but still trim and dapper in a sleek dark suit and a black turtleneck. His features were large and well-defined, with a patrician nose, powerful chin, wide forehead, and pale hazel eyes under forceful white eyebrows. Platinum-gray hair framed his face in a carefully trimmed mane. In his right hand he held a long black cane tipped by a silver dragon head.
An aura of wealth radiated from him, enhancing his looks like a layer of polish. He smelled of money and prestige. His voice was the auditory equivalent of expensive coffee, rich, smooth, and slightly bitter. “Kate, I’m afraid the sword has to stay.”
“No.”
“Weapons are forbidden everywhere but the Pit level. You won’t get through the door.”
Shit.
I sighed and put Slayer between the front seats. “Stay here. Guard the car.”
Saiman shut the door. “Is the sword sentient?”
“No. But I like to pretend it is.”
A remote clicked in Saiman’s hand. The car answered with an odd chime.
“What was that?”
“My security system. I wouldn’t recommend touching the vehicle. Shall we?” He offered me his elbow. I rested my fingers on his arm. A deal was a deal. I was his arm candy for the night.
At least I looked the part. I had twisted my hair up and stuck a couple of reinforced wooden sticks into the knot to keep it put. I’d even brushed on some makeup to match the ao dai. The dress already added a touch of exotic, and mascara and dark eye shadow took me into intriguing territory. Pretty was forever out of my league, but striking I could manage.
A large building sat before us in the middle of a huge parking lot. Brick and oval in shape, it rose three stories tall, stretching into the night for what seemed like forever. Buildings of this size were rare in Atlanta.
Something about the location tugged on me. “Wasn’t there something else here?”
“The Cooler. This used to be Atlanta’s ice-skating rink. Obviously, we’ve made some modifications.”
I chewed on that “we.” “Are you a member of the House, Saiman?”
“No. But Thomas Durand is.” He indicated his new face with an elegant sweep of his hand.
Not only I was going to an underground tournament dressed like a bimbo, but my escort owned a chunk of it. Great. Since I had gambling and illegal combat covered, maybe afterward I could score some drugs and high-class hookers for an encore. I sighed and tried to look as though I didn’t kill things for a living.
“Are those
“Green is your color,” Saiman said in a conciliatory way. “I had the ao dai tailored to you. It should fit.”
I had no doubt it would. He’d probably turned into me and tried it on. “I’ll give it a shot.”
“I’ll pick you up at ten. And, Kate, perhaps a touch of makeup . . .”
“Would you like to assist me with my choice of underwear as well?”
My sarcasm whistled right over his head. “I would be delighted. While I’d love to see you in a balconette bra, I’m afraid for this particular occasion I would have to go with a foam-lined seamless due to the tight fit of the garment across your breasts . . . Perhaps I could come over and review what you have available . . .”
I hung up. A panty party with Saiman. Not in his wildest dreams.
EIGHT HOURS LATER, AS I STEPPED OUT OF SAIMAN’S car into the parking lot of the Arena, I reflected on the fact that he had proved right. Although the green silk hugged my chest, leaving absolutely no doubt that I was female, the dress widened below. Two slits sliced the ao dai on the sides, reaching an inch past the high waistband of the pants. The sleeves flared at the wrist, wide enough to mask my wrist guards, which I had filled with silver needles.
Unfortunately, there was nowhere to put my sword. That was okay. I didn’t mind carrying it.
Saiman held on to my passenger door. He chose to be tall and middle-aged tonight, a man past his prime but still trim and dapper in a sleek dark suit and a black turtleneck. His features were large and well-defined, with a patrician nose, powerful chin, wide forehead, and pale hazel eyes under forceful white eyebrows. Platinum-gray hair framed his face in a carefully trimmed mane. In his right hand he held a long black cane tipped by a silver dragon head.
An aura of wealth radiated from him, enhancing his looks like a layer of polish. He smelled of money and prestige. His voice was the auditory equivalent of expensive coffee, rich, smooth, and slightly bitter. “Kate, I’m afraid the sword has to stay.”
“No.”
“Weapons are forbidden everywhere but the Pit level. You won’t get through the door.”
Shit.
I sighed and put Slayer between the front seats. “Stay here. Guard the car.”
Saiman shut the door. “Is the sword sentient?”
“No. But I like to pretend it is.”
A remote clicked in Saiman’s hand. The car answered with an odd chime.
“What was that?”
“My security system. I wouldn’t recommend touching the vehicle. Shall we?” He offered me his elbow. I rested my fingers on his arm. A deal was a deal. I was his arm candy for the night.
At least I looked the part. I had twisted my hair up and stuck a couple of reinforced wooden sticks into the knot to keep it put. I’d even brushed on some makeup to match the ao dai. The dress already added a touch of exotic, and mascara and dark eye shadow took me into intriguing territory. Pretty was forever out of my league, but striking I could manage.
A large building sat before us in the middle of a huge parking lot. Brick and oval in shape, it rose three stories tall, stretching into the night for what seemed like forever. Buildings of this size were rare in Atlanta.
Something about the location tugged on me. “Wasn’t there something else here?”
“The Cooler. This used to be Atlanta’s ice-skating rink. Obviously, we’ve made some modifications.”
I chewed on that “we.” “Are you a member of the House, Saiman?”
“No. But Thomas Durand is.” He indicated his new face with an elegant sweep of his hand.
Not only I was going to an underground tournament dressed like a bimbo, but my escort owned a chunk of it. Great. Since I had gambling and illegal combat covered, maybe afterward I could score some drugs and high-class hookers for an encore. I sighed and tried to look as though I didn’t kill things for a living.
“Are those
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