Page 9

The whir of helicopters drew me from my thoughts.

I’d taken my own advice and laid down in a booth—the one farthest from Kara—but the vinyl stuck to my skin and the seat dug into my spine. It had only been about ninety minutes, and despite my exhaustion, I hadn’t managed any sleep.

I sat up as Kara did the same, and we exchanged a look.

“SPAR?” she asked.

“About time,” I said, moving quickly to the window. Small gaps in the shutters offered only brief glimpses of the outside, the angle making it hard to get a clear view.

Kara came up beside me, to my irritation choosing the same window I was trying to peer out of, not the other.

“Could just be reinforcements for the bad guys,” she whispered.

“I can’t see shit,” I said, trying to shift for a better view. It sounded like the choppers had landed not far away, but I couldn’t be sure.

Shouts filled the air, punctuated by occasional spell explosions that made the shutters rattle. I ducked beneath the window, pushing my back to the wall. “World War Three.”

Kara crouched next to me, her tail curling beside her. “It has to be SPAR.”

She’d loosened the laces of her corset, presumably to be more comfortable while she laid down, and I couldn’t help but notice the expanse of cleavage and side-boob now on offer. I expected some snarky comment when she caught me looking, but she only chewed her lip.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” I said, distracted, trying to keep an ear on what was happening outside.

“For my attitude.”

I blinked, focusing on her.

“You were right,” she continued, her eyes lowered. “I’ve been a … bitch.” She hesitated before adding, “Please don’t punish me.”

The thought hadn’t crossed my mind—until now. Visions of her over my lap, getting the spanking she deserved. Probably not what she meant, but it sure as hell was tempting.

But I didn’t buy this as a genuine apology.

She was just trying to ingratiate herself, having now realized I could order her to wear neon-colored Lycra or forego coffee forever, and she’d have to do it.

Hell, the loosened corset ties were probably deliberate, part of her plan to make me more amenable.

“Not now, Kara,” I said, pushing myself up to take another glimpse through the shutters.

“Sorry.” That actually sounded genuine, but I ignored it. Maybe she was a good actor.

Outside, the worst of the explosions had stopped, the shouting more deliberate, less frenetic. I still didn’t feel like opening the door.

“Do you think … are we going to get in trouble?”

I glanced at Kara, seeing the worry in her green eyes. We’d both killed tonight, and maybe there’d be questions to answer, but we’d had good reason.

“Everything we did was in self-defense. We’re not going to get in trouble if we tell the truth.”

She nodded, then again more firmly.

“Still,” I added, “maybe best not to mention you think I’m a warlock, or that I … borrowed your powers.”

“I’m not an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “Despite what you thought of my paper.”

My lips twitched. “That still a sore point?”

“Not at all,” she said. “I’ve already asked for it to get re-graded by Professor Harris.”

“I’m sure that’ll make all the difference,” I said dryly, turning once more to the window.

An electric crackle preceded the whine of a loudspeaker. “All civilians. This is SPAR. Remain where you are while we secure the area. Phone reception is restored. For urgent assistance only, dial SPAR-911.”

“That’s nice of them.” I pulled out my phone, but it was only accepting emergency calls. I still couldn’t check on Emma or Paul. “Guess now we wait.”

“At least it’s over.” Kara let out a sigh and sat back on her heels, then pulled at her corset. “This thing is really chafing. I didn’t expect to wear it all night—or fight in it.”

“Take it off then,” I said in reflex.

“Yes, Master .” She glared at me even as her fingers reached for the laces.

“Whoa, whoa.” I held up a hand, looking away. “I was joking.”

“Very funny,” she said bitterly. “A hilarious way to talk to your bonded slave.”

“Sorry.” I shook my head in exasperation. “It won’t be long until we can just go our separate ways and put this behind us.”

“Yes, I’m certain a good night’s sleep will make it so that I don’t have to do whatever you tell me for the rest of my life.”

I rubbed my palm over my face. “You’re really hard work, Kara.”

“ I’m really hard work?”

“Fine. How about this. You don’t have to do anything I say unless you want to, okay?”

Her breath caught. “Really?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Will that work?”

“Um … maybe you could tell me to do something I don’t want to do?” Her eyes widened and she went on in a rush, “Just … nothing sexual.”

“I wouldn’t … I’m not—” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m not some horny pervert that’s going to take advantage just because I can.”

“If you say so.” Her tone was all judgment and zero faith.

Damn, the girl was really pushing for a spanking. But I’d missed my chance—now it would only make her point.

“You could try and be a bit nicer.”

She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Is that it? Is that your command to do something I don’t want to do?”

“Nah. I wouldn’t tell you to do something that’s impossible.”

She scowled. “You’re a dick. Hope you know that.”

“Sure,” I said, feeling my irritation surge. “Now I really feel like letting you off from doing what I tell you. Fuck, I should make you clean the bar. That would be a good place to start.”

Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry, okay? That was uncalled for. It’s just … it’s been a really tough night. Please don’t punish me.”

“Whatever.” I threw my hands up, then cocked my head and looked at her. “Do you want to clean the bar?”

“Not particularly.”

“Clean the bar, Kara.”

“Yes, Master.” She rocked back on her heels and rose, heading toward the bar.

I sighed. “Guess it didn’t work?”

“Um … I’m not sure,” she said, picking up the glasses we’d used for bourbon and loading them into the washer. “It’s not that I want to, exactly, it’s that …” She made a face. “I prefer things tidy.”

I chuckled. “So you still have to comply?”

“It’s not funny.”

“It is from where I’m sitting.”

She eyed me with annoyance as she began to stack the beermats.

I pushed myself up, walking to the bar. “I suppose we could try something else.”

“All right,” she said guardedly.

“Say something nice about me.” I sat down on a stool, leaning my elbows on the surface.

“You … you’ve got good bone structure.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Well it’s true,” she muttered.

“Okay, maybe a bad example.” I pointed with my chin to the espresso rig. “Make me a coffee.”

Kara left the beermats in a neat pile and turned to take a cup from the shelf.

“It’s not working, is it?” I said.

“Um … I guess I figured, with us having so little sleep, a coffee wasn’t a bad idea.” She pressed the grinder button, catching the grounds in the portafilter before tamping them, her shoulders tense.

I propped my chin on my hand and rolled my eyes. “You do understand we’re trying to test you not doing what you’re told?”

“Still not an idiot.” She hit the brew button, then reached again for a cloth and the disinfectant spray. The scent of coffee mingled with sharp disinfectant as she turned back to the bar.

“Debatable right now. Kinda weird how eager you are to obey someone you despise.” I raised an eyebrow. “Are you kinky?”

“I really do hate you,” she said, words full of venom. Then she started guiltily. “Please don’t punish me.”

“One nice change would be going more than five minutes without asking me not to punish you.”

Kara scowled, squirting the surfaces angrily. I leaned back before she aimed it at my face.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, seeing my reaction. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“Uh-huh. You know that how?”

She hesitated in mid-wipe, not meeting my eyes.

“You don’t need to answer,” I said. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“I was pissed, okay? I thought you’d done mind magic on me.”

I nodded in understanding. “Back when you jumped in to protect me from Conrad?”

“Yeah.” She began to wipe down the beer tap nozzles.

“That’s how fucked up my life has become in just one night.

I wanted to hurt you for controlling me against my will, but I couldn’t.

Then that dick Paul said you were a norm, and I can’t believe that I actually felt bad for wanting to hurt you, when it turns out all along you didn’t just compel me, you fucking bound me.

” She huffed. “So no, Master dearest, I can’t hurt you.

” Then added in a mutter, “However much I might want to.”

“‘That dick Paul’ happens to be my roommate.”

“Figures.”

“We still need to test if you can refuse my orders,” I said. “Though it seems a challenge finding something you’re not willing to do.”

That earned me a glare. It was fun taunting her, if only because I liked the way she looked when she tightened her jaw.

“Quack like a duck,” I said.

“Waack waack.” She blushed.

I blinked. “Are you serious right now? You wanted to quack like a duck?”

“I couldn’t see a reason not to.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Meet me halfway here. At least try not to agree to everything?”

She flung her cloth in the sink and pulled out a drip tray.

“Stop,” I said. She froze, drip tray in hand. “Very carefully, lift that up, then pour it over your head.”

She twitched. “No.”

“Halle-fucking-lujah. So it does work.”

Kara set the drip tray down and took a half pace back, staring at it, then at me. “You … you’ve given me free will back again. Why?”

I shrugged. “Why not? We’re each our own person.”

“But you’re a warlock—”

“—Still unproven—”

“—and I’m your slave.”

“I agree you call me ‘master’ a lot, but I didn’t enslave you.”

“Semantics.” She waved a hand in frustration. “You’ve bound me to you.”

I pointed past her. “Coffee’s ready.”

She flashed me an irritated look, but turned for the cup. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Black.”

She set it before me, reached for the cloth, then let her hand drop. “I don’t want to clean your bar anymore.”

“Go you, making your own decisions. Real progress.” I took a sip of the espresso.

“I still hate you.”

“Another win. You said that without asking me not to punish you.”

“Such a jerk,” she muttered, folding her arms beneath her breasts. It pushed them up in her corset, straining the laces.

“We’re gonna get SPAR in here any minute now,” I said, nodding to her bosom. “Do you want to borrow my hoodie?”

“What?”

“I mean, you can go out there looking like a stripper that’s had a really good night, or you could borrow my hoodie.”

She glanced down at herself, uncrossed her arms and looked away. “Um …”

“Great. Another thing you can’t do: accept help from me. Go on, try it. Say, ‘Yes, please, I would like your hoodie.’”

A knock came on the bar door, almost like speaking their name had brought SPAR. “Anyone in there?”

“Just a minute,” I called back. I raised an eyebrow at Kara.

“Yes please, Master, I would like your hoodie.” She sounded like she was chewing on glass, but other than that, it was almost polite.

“Nine out of ten,” I said, pulling my hoodie off and chucking it to her. It snagged the burn on my arm, and I winced. “You still called me ‘master’.”

She yanked it over her head then adjusted the sleeve with the hole in it, glancing at my injury.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “Secondhand clothing.”

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

I shrugged. It did, but there wasn’t much to be done about it.

I downed the remainder of my espresso and stood, waiting while Kara walked around the bar. My hoodie came down barely past her ass, making it look like she was wearing nothing beneath. It was an improvement over the ripped corset—just.

“Ready?” I asked.

She stilled and closed her eyes, and her horns and tail disappeared as she applied a glamour. Then she smoothed a hand over her braid, glanced at the door, and swallowed nervously.

“Just stick to the truth—mostly—and we’ll be fine.”

She nodded, then surprised me by reaching for my hand.

I gave hers a little squeeze, and together we went to face the music.