Page 12 of Shift of Morals (Shifter Lords #2)

Chapter

Seven

I wore the dress. How could I not? Caelan, or whoever helped him, had excellent taste in clothing.

The dress fit like a glove but wasn’t so tight I had trouble moving.

Comforting magic slid over my skin, the awaiting life in the bodice of my dress pulsing against my collarbone.

I traced my fingers over the embroidery and wondered how I could incorporate such magic into my daily wardrobe.

Sewing wasn’t one of my talents, but maybe I could find a local seamstress to help. A sharp knock on the door interrupted my thoughts and announced Moira’s presence. The front door opened with a creak, and Moira poked her head in.

“I’m here!” she called. “If you’re covered in baby oil and rolling around on plastic, yell ‘Kris Kringle!’ I won’t peek!”

“No baby oil, I’m afraid.”

“For shame.” Moira came into the bedroom grinning, but when she saw me, her eyes widened, and she whistled low. “Damn. If I liked women, I’d eat you like a lollipop.”

“First of all, gross.” I fastened a pair of gold teardrop stud earrings into my ears but kept my neck bare. The embroidery around the bodice was stunning, and adding jewelry would take away from the overall effect. Our eyes locked in the mirror. “Second of all, thank you.”

Moira winked. “You got it, babe.”

“Third,” I said when I turned, “you look vicious, deadly, and hot, hot, hot.”

And she did. Moira was lean and slinky, the dress skimming over all her dangerous curves.

She wore her hair half up and half down, a pair of diamond earrings twinkling in her earlobes.

A solitaire pendant lay in the hollow of her throat, and a thin, golden bracelet was clasped at her wrist. Her heels were sky-high, showcasing leanly muscled legs.

Moira was a stunning woman, but she was also deadly, and that fact was difficult to ignore in that dress.

The vampire did a pirouette, and I had to admire her ability to do that in those heels.

“If Soren is there, he won’t stand a chance.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “You ready to go?”

I held up a finger. “Let me get my shoes on.”

Moira clicked her tongue when she saw my much more reasonable kitten heels. “Uh-uh. You got anything higher?”

“Nope. Only certain women can wear heels that high. Vampires named Moira, and other women not named Evie.” I slid my feet into my sedate heels and stood, grabbing my small purse from the bed.

“No matter. Caelan will like anything you wear.”

I tossed a makeup brush at her. Moira dodged, swift as a viper, and laughed. “Let’s go see a Lord about a wedding.”

To my surprise, Caelan had changed nothing I’d done to his property.

The Jacaranda tree stood in front of his home, still blooming despite the late season, and a riot of wildflowers dotted the entire landscape.

A chuckle escaped me when we pulled in, turning into a full-on bellow of laughter when we parked.

Moira snorted. “I bet when guests show up here, they have no idea what to think.”

“Maybe I should cultivate it a little more.” The place looked like something straight out of a fairytale. I loved it, but few people loved that much flora with that many colors right outside their front door.

“If Caelan hasn’t done anything yet, I don’t think he plans to.”

“He’s a busy Lord. Maybe he hasn’t had the time.”

Moira gave me the side-eye. “Caelan gets things done, Evie. If he wanted to change up his landscaping, he would have done it weeks ago.”

I squashed the warm and fuzzy feeling down. Maybe he hadn’t changed it because his new fiancée liked it.

“I’m going to punch you right in the pizza pocket if you don’t wipe those thoughts right out of your head. Caelan has the hots for you, and he likes your weird pollute-the-place-with-flowers love language.”

“As we pull up at his house to ask him about his wedding.” I eyed the front of the house, my heartbeat picking up.

“Yeah, well. Even the best love stories don’t start out perfect.” Moira put the vehicle in park and slid out, handing her keys to the valet. My door opened, a handsome young man offering a hand to help me out. I obliged him and held on to my skirt for decency’s sake as I got out.

Simone waited for us on the steps, a clipboard in her hand and a serious look on her face. “Hello.” Her eyes skimmed over both of us. “Glad to see you accepted the Lord’s gifts.”

“I do not turn down fabulous clothing,” Moira said.

“I didn’t have anything else to wear.” Not a lie, but I too had a weakness for pretty dresses.

Simone’s lips twitched at my comment. “Come on in. We’ll head straight to the dining room.”

The wards buzzed against my skin, more powerful than they were the last time. A smile tugged my lips upward. The Shifter Lord still couldn’t keep me out, but maybe he and his security had learned a little since I’d broken in with little effort.

I steeled myself, schooling my expression into cool indifference.

Caelan’s fiancée would be here tonight, and I was here in a professional capacity.

Being the florist on record would put Little Shop of Florals on the map.

The shop was already popular around the state, but pulling this wedding off could open up more doors than I ever dreamed possible.

I had to keep my shit together, no matter what Caelan did to antagonize me.

The doors opened, our heels clicking on the stone floor. Simone led us through the entryway and down the long hall. My skin prickled.

We were being watched.

Moira sidled up beside me. “You creeped out?”

Simone’s shoulders stiffened. “Be on your best behavior tonight, ladies,” she hissed. “This meeting is important.”

“We know,” Moira and I said at the same time.

No one came to greet us, and there were no people in the hallways. “How many people are here tonight?” I asked.

“Only the necessary ones,” Simone remarked, the cryptic answer making me roll my eyes.

“Then was this dress necessary?” The silky fabric buzzed against my skin, its magic alert. Aware.

Moira snorted. “I’d wear this dress to take out the garbage.”

“Everything a Shifter Lord does or does not do draws scrutiny.” Simone stopped before the large double doors.

“There are eyes everywhere, and this wedding is the event of the century. If you showed up wearing blue jeans, your faces would be splashed across the front page of the Joy Springs newspaper in the morning, and by the afternoon, your business would be ruined.”

“That’s extreme,” Moira murmured.

Simone looked over her shoulder. “That is what it means to be a Lord.”

I grimaced. “Sorry.”

Simone sighed, both hands raised to push open the doors. “It is difficult for someone who is not exposed to this life to understand what it means to be under such intense scrutiny twenty-four hours per day.”

“Privacy is the most underrated asset we have,” I said. “We never realize how valuable it is until it’s gone.”

Simone’s eyes glittered with approval before she turned away. “Exactly. So try to wear those dresses with a smile.” She grunted and pushed the doors open, revealing a massive dining room bustling with activity.

But before we could walk in, the feminine sound of a throat clearing sounded in the hall. I was staring right at Simone’s shoulders when they tensed just slightly. Someone who wasn’t right next to her might have missed it.

“Hello,” a purring voice said. “You must be our little florist.”

Moira stiffened. From the woman’s tone, I knew this must be Caelan’s fiancée.

Simone stepped in front of us. “Gianna. You look splendid, as always.”

Gianna wore a slinky dress in magenta pink, her cool blonde hair done in a perfect chignon. Her makeup was flawless, accentuating high cheekbones and startling green eyes. She was tall and lean and dripped with diamonds. “Thank you, Simone. You look adequate.”

Anger spooled through my veins. Simone was shorter and had more honey in her blonde hair, but she looked hot tonight.

The Omega was dressed in a stylish black, one-shoulder jumpsuit, a pair of diamond drops in her ears.

She wore her hair loose, curls spilling down her back, and had chosen diamond-encrusted, flat sandals, probably because she was constantly on the move.

Nothing worse than heels that pinch when you have business to attend to.

Gianna was old New York money, and Simone was Southern lady class.

Moira reached out and ran a finger down Simone’s arm. “Are you kidding? My girl looks smoking tonight.”

Simone blinked, color turning her tanned cheeks pink. “Er. Thank you, Moira.”

The vampire winked. “No need to thank me. My eyes should thank you.”

I hid my smile. One thing about Moira, she never discriminated when it came to beauty.

Gianna’s eyes flickered with fury. “We can head inside. The caterers should be finished setting up in a little while.”

She breezed past us, leaving behind the scent of a deep, musky perfume I didn’t care for.

“Patchouli heavy,” Moira whispered, grinning when she saw Gianna’s steps hitch.

“Be good,” I warned in a voice so low Gianna couldn’t hear me. “We need this job.”

“We really don’t. The shop is doing fine.”

“Yes, but we don’t have 401ks. If we get this job, I might be able to swing them for everyone.”

Moira fell quiet.

“Exactly,” I murmured. “Immortals especially need financial security.”

“I hate it when you’re reasonable. That hasn’t happened in a while, so I’m not sure if I like this Evie or the crazy one who gets chased through the streets by pissed off shifters.”

“The reasonable one keeps us all out of trouble.”

Moira sighed. “Some trouble is good for the soul.”

“Will you two shut up?” Simone hissed.

“And we liked you better when you were nicer,” Moira murmured.

Simone rolled her eyes. “As you can see, things have changed.” She glared daggers at Gianna’s back.

Caelan’s fiancée didn’t appear to be popular around here. Interesting.