Sentinel Lost (Mind Sweeper Series Book 5) (9 page)

“I get out plenty.”

“Right,” Talia answered.

“I don’t need you two ganging up on me.”

Doc swiveled in the seat and pinned me with a glare. “You need some time away or you’re going to drown in self-pity.”

“Has anyone ever told you your bedside manner sucks?”

“Yes. But normally it’s a patient who’s being a baby.”

“Touché.”

Doc smiled and turned to face the windshield again. “In any case, we need to find you a dress. Do you still have the silver heels I got you?”

“No.”

Doc huffed. “Kyle!”

“I lost them when I was being firebombed by demon assassins. So sue me.”

Talia turned into a parking lot, and I glanced around. “This isn’t the mall.”

“Nope,” Talia answered. “The mall isn’t going to have what we need.”

“How do you even know about this place? You’ve only been living here for a few weeks.”

Talia shrugged and opened her door. “A vampire knows how to Google.”

I stopped myself from groaning. Could I make a break for it when I got out of the car? Nah. Talia could flash, and she’d be on me in a second.
Stupid vampire super speed.

I climbed out of the car and walked behind Doc and Talia into the exclusive-looking shop. A clerk met us at the door with a gracious smile. “How may I help you?”

Doc smiled right back and gestured toward me and Talia. “Need some party dresses for my friends here. The sexier the better.”

The clerk looked at Talia first, and then me. “Let’s see what we can do. Follow me.”

Talia and Doc high-fived each other, and my stomach sank. I was not looking forward to this
at all
. First, we were herded into an area with chairs and a three-way mirror. The clerk suggested we relax, and then she hustled through the store, pulling dresses and placing them on a small rolling rack.

When she returned, she crooked her finger at Talia. “You first.”

Talia followed her to the dressing rooms, and I let out a sigh.

Doc growled. “We’re not torturing you.”

I shrugged. “Depends on your definition of torture.”

Talia tried on three dresses, and every one was amazing on her. But a burlap sack would look good on Talia. With each new dress, Doc circled her like she was prey. Both women were stunningly beautiful. As in ridiculous, supermodel beautiful. Doc was blond and fair, like a Nordic goddess. And Talia’s mocha skin was flawless, as were her gold-flecked eyes.
I am not feeling insecure…I am not feeling insecure…

“What do you think, Kyle?” Doc asked, interrupting my fit of self-doubt.

“Any of them work. It’s quite sickening.” But I said it with a sincere smile.

Talia laughed. “I think I’ll hold my decision until we see your dresses.”

The clerk motioned for me next, and I followed her like I was being led to the gallows.

Doc sighed. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll buy you dessert.”

I grinned. “Promise?”

I entered the small dressing room. Three dresses hung on hooks. I swallowed hard once I got a good look at them, but then squared my shoulders. If I could face rogue shifters, I could try on some skimpy dresses. I flipped over the price tag on the first dress, a deep purple, and swallowed hard again.
Holy crap!
What were these dresses made out of? Silk? Sewn by fairies?

I stepped into it and checked myself in the mirror before I moved aside the curtain and walked a few paces to the three-way mirror.

Doc’s eyes narrowed on me. “Not too bad. What do you think?”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“I was talking to Talia.”

Talia stared at me for a moment. “Kyle is not comfortable in it, so we should look at something else.”

Doc nodded, and I went back into the dressing room. The second dress never made it out of there. No way was I wearing it anywhere in polite society. I reached for dress three, which was a deep burgundy, and slipped it on. It actually looked pretty damn good in a-way-too-short kind of way. The thin straps showed off my shoulders, and at least my bum was covered this time. But I would have to remember not to reach up for anything, or all my secrets would be exposed.

I opened the curtain, and the saleswoman grinned while she held out a pair of slinky black sandals. I slipped them on and presented myself for Doc and Talia’s inspection.

Doc smacked her hands together. “That’s the one!”

“It’s perfect, Kyle,” Talia agreed.

“That it is,” Doc agreed. “Talia, you should buy the gold one. Those two dresses will knock ’em dead, if they aren’t already.”

Talia and I changed while the clerk rang up our purchases. Then we all climbed back into Talia’s car.

“Now, on to the beauty shop,” Doc announced.

Oh, hell no!
“You didn’t say anything about a beauty shop.”

Doc grinned. “Of course I didn’t. You wouldn’t have come.”

“I’m not going to any beauty shop.”

“Did I mention there’s an old-fashioned ice cream parlor across the street from it?”

“You have no shame, woman.”

Doc laughed. “And you need to sow some oats, Kyle.”

Talia said. “I agree, you need to have some fun.”

“I don’t need to sow any damn oats. What are you two, the supernatural version of Thelma and Louise?”

“Hardly,” Talia scoffed. “This car is a classic. No way would I drive it off a cliff.”

Chapter 11

I stared at my reflection in the office bathroom mirror. It was probably good I’d stuck with the smaller sundae instead of the banana split I really wanted. The burgundy dress fit like a second skin. And the rest of my actual skin wasn’t covered up very well. The dress was open to the small of my back, and the skirt hit mid-thigh, exposing my legs to my open-toed sandals. Toes sporting burgundy nail polish to match my dress and the couple of burgundy highlights added to my blond hair.

I didn’t look like me. Or rather, I didn’t look like the old me.

Talia stepped out of the bathroom stall where she had changed and straightened her dress. “Are you ready, Kyle?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I opened the door, and we walked down the short hall into the main office space where Misha and Jean Luc waited for us.

Misha whistled. “You two look amazing.”

Jean Luc nodded and reached for Talia, but she shook her head and backed up a step. “Don’t want to smell like you, my dear. I’m supposed to be on the prowl for a male, remember?”

Jean Luc growled, and she laughed lightly.

“Where’s Dalton?” I asked.

As if in answer to my question, the office door opened and Dalton walked into the room. His eyes tightened on me for a second, and then he looked away. An irrational stab of disappointment surged through me. What had I expected? He wasn’t the same person anymore. And I wasn’t either. Once this case was resolved, he would return to Chicago, and I would be here with Griffin.

Talia and I drove to the club in her Mustang while the guys followed in the surveillance van.

“Can you hear me, Misha?” I asked, checking our earbuds.

“Loud and clear, little one.”

“How about the trackers?” Talia asked.

“Yep. Two little blips are showing on my monitor. But you two are going to behave tonight so we don’t have to worry about trackers, right?”

“Absolutely,” I answered. “This is a fact-finding mission. Nothing more.”

We parked and hustled to the club entrance as fast as our heels could carry us. Springtime in Cleveland meant it was still God-awful cold and wet. And we were outside in sandals and barely-there dresses supplemented with nothing more than short, light wraps. I’d never asked if vamps could feel the cold, but I was going to freeze to death before we got inside. Hypothermia was definitely
not
sexy.

The bouncer looked us over, eyes locked for a long time on Talia—big shock—before nodding for us to enter. We walked into the small alcove and were greeted by a blast of heat and music. We slid off our wraps and handed them to the smiling coat room attendant.

“First time here, ladies?”

“Yes,” Talia said.

“Welcome.” She looked us over too, and already I felt like a piece of meat. “You should both fit in here quite nicely. In the main salon you’ll find a bar. There are several rooms branching off of the main salon, but please don’t enter those. They’re by invitation only.”

We walked into the main room, and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the low light. The bar was some kind of dark wood with a brass runner around the top. Leather high-back chairs surrounded the bar, and several clusters of sleek tables, chairs, and sofas were scattered throughout the space. It was definitely high-end, but that didn’t conceal its true purpose. Especially when the men in the room started to stare. And they weren’t subtle about it. And the more overt stares we got, the more I wanted to laugh. Whether human or supe, men had never been a subtle breed.

I followed Talia to the bar, and the bartender appeared as soon as we were seated. “What can I get you ladies?”

“I’ll have a chocolate martini.” Now, I’d never so much as sniffed a chocolate martini, but it seemed like the right thing to order as part of my undercover persona.

He reached for a glass and then turned to Talia. “I have a special red for you.”

I arched my eyebrow at her when he turned away, and she leaned closer and whispered. “Shifter.”

Which made perfect sense for a bartender. He would be able to sense what you were right away. My life would be so much easier if I could tell when someone was a supe. A lot of times I could guess, depending on the situation, but at times like this, I was clueless.

The bartender placed the drinks in front of us. My martini had a curl of chocolate on the rim. Talia’s glass looked like it held a deep, red wine, but I knew better. I reached for my purse and the bartender shook his head. “Taken care of.”

“That was fast.”

He skimmed his eyes over both of us. “Not really. You two won’t have to worry about paying for a drink tonight.”

Jean Luc growled in my earbud. Talia chuckled.

I smiled at the bartender even though what I wanted to do was go home and take a shower. I glanced sideways at Talia and murmured, “Let the games begin.”

She chuckled again and spun her chair so she was facing the room. I blew out a breath and did the same.

Thirty minutes later, my wish to take a shower had morphed into visions of being sprayed down by a biohazard team. Talia was handling the attention quite well, and I was faking it as best I could, but my face hurt from all the smiling. I hadn’t smiled this much in…well, ever.

When an enormous male, I was guessing demon, came lumbering toward us, my smile faltered slightly. He was a bigger than Misha, which was saying something. But while Misha’s demeanor was welcoming, this guy’s was frosty. With grim lips and a glare that would melt glass, he set off my scary meter.

He stopped in front of me. “Someone would like to meet you.”

I widened my eyes. “I think the proper greeting is ‘hello.’”

His mouth dropped open slightly, but he recovered his frown and continued. “My boss would like to meet you, follow me.”

“And who would that be?”

“Eli Miller. He owns the club.” He crossed his arms as if to intimidate me, but I stayed on my barstool.

I smiled sweetly at his bluster. “I’m flattered, but if your boss wants to meet me, then he should introduce himself.”

The behemoth gawked at me for a moment—maybe he had never heard the word “no” before—and then he turned away and lumbered back to the corner alcove.

Talia leaned over and muttered, “What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a hunch. If we’re setting up a deal with Eli, he wouldn’t expect us to be all giggly and gushing, would he?”

“I hope you’re right, McKinley.” Dalton’s voice sounded in my ear, and I closed my eyes for a second, breathing carefully.

“Can you see what he’s doing?” I asked Talia.

“He’s talking to a man in the back corner booth and gesturing toward us.”

“Does Eli look pissed?”

Talia picked up her drink and casually glanced back. “He’s frowning.”

Crap. Please let me be right.
I set my martini glass down and smiled at no one in particular. The
Jeopardy
theme song played in my brain, counting down the minutes. I hated the
Jeopardy
theme song. When the buzzer sounded, would it mean I’d blown it?

Hmm hmm hmm hmm—hmm hmm hmmmmmm. Hmm hmm hmm hmm, HMMM, hm hm hm hm hm…

“Eli’s walking this way,” Talia whispered.

“I’d like to bet it all, Alex,” I mumbled.

Talia stared at me like I had two heads.

“Never mind.”

I watched him approach. It was a bar after all, and I wasn’t playing the shy debutante. He was around six feet tall, stocky, and his black hair was slicked down with too much product. Maybe he and his bouncer worked out together. Hell. His bouncer could probably bench press a Mack truck.