Wild Side (Dark Side Series: Book 2)

Eighteen

Nothing But Thieves again here. "Graveyard Whistling" Seriously, the vocals in this track at the end, holy smokes! 😍

A drink, a little downtime, and making progress on Lisa's situation was a better night than I could ask for.  Which meant, of course, that paranoia ticked through my veins at the first thought about how Zakar planned on ruining it. With speed on my mind, I'd trotted to about the front door when Caelan stopped me.

"Might want to go a little more date night," he said in that slow, somewhat apologetic tone that suggested he really wasn't trying to insult me, but I wasn't quite dressed to whatever standard he thought was required.

Raising my eyebrows, I looked over his hoodie and jeans. "What, like you?"

He played with his keys. "Thing is, it's a popular bar we're headed to and Natasha has a soft spot for naive little lambs."

"I'm not any of those things."

"I know better," he said, "but Tasha doesn't. And the rest of the bar shouldn't."

My hand found my hip in game protest. "So you're more concerned with me looking presentable for this Tasha chick than for you?"

"This isn't a real date." He moved across to me and, wrinkling his nose, plucked a fine black cat hair from my shoulder. "And my idea of presentable is a bit more Titian's Venus."

With a light touch I pushed him and those twinkling amber eyes back a few steps. "You are feeling mortal, aren't you? That's my kind of dirty talk." And behind my pink cheeks I wondered how much he actually knew about the painting's meaning.

"Oh, you like that?" he said, not bothering to hide a wolfish grin.

I nodded. "Pleasant surprise. Didn't think you knew much about art."

"I don't, but I was the best man at a wedding largely funded by a wanted art thief." The keys jingled merrily in his hand. "I'll get the car warmed up," he promised, and left me standing in the hall.

My attention drifted onto the rest of my cat-hair infested top. I was well-aware of my slouchy state after spending the better part of the day reading and taking notes and pulling out my hair and playing with Igor and reading some more. I didn't really have the energy to get all dolled up, but Caelan was allergic and I'd be spreading Igor hairs all over his car.

In the process of slipping into the winter dress we'd bought the other day, I stopped to take a good look at myself in the mirror. My hair had been turning silver like Rhetta's and my skin had been a wash out for months, but the woman in the mirror was growing increasingly more and more gaunt. At first I'd attributed it to leeches, or the hustle and bustle of working for Calico and Zakar at the same time, but here tonight I had a feeling that I was losing weight no matter what or how often I ate. It wasn't too bad yet, but the scars that swept across my chest and over my hips highlighted a flatter belly than I'd ever had with diet and exercise, and my bra size had gone down a cup or so since last I'd measured. I touched the jagged scars from the last wendigo's claws and frowned softly.

Venus of Urbino I was not. And even on my best day I was too self-conscious to just lay there and let someone look at me like the young woman in the painting.

Looking at myself was like staring into a moonlit swamp and knowing there was a gator waiting somewhere below the algae-ridden surface. I shuddered at the thought of what I might become and continued getting dressed.

A short while later, I'd cleaned myself into a proper young lady and met Caelan at the door.

"How's this?" I asked him, giving a twirling view of semi-sheer black leggings and a dark, flower print dress. There wasn't much I could do with my hair except brush the knots out and hope it wasn't a blustery walk from the car to the bar.