Page 34 of Wake the Dream

“Not at all. I simply can’t have you accosting tourists, and I’ve learned you can’t be trusted to be left alone. Which leaves me with two choices: one, I can lock you into a motel room with several armed guards who I’m sure you can incapacitate. Or sleep with, which is a risk I can’t take as an officer of the law. Or two, I go against protocol and whatever reservations I have and take you with me. Now, which one of these makes more sense?”

He’d finally come around. And it took kissing a stranger. She fought to keep the flush from showing and reached out her hand instead. “Partners. I like the sound of that.”

“Not partners. Cop and civilian. We do this by my rules because I refuse to let you get hurt. Do you understand?” he persisted.

“Perfectly. What is our next step?”

**

Illaria stretched thematerial of her skirt lower, hating the way it flirted just inches below her crotch. Normally she enjoyed the process of getting ready and painting her face, doing her hair just right, and finding the perfect outfit to display her assets. Now, with the spandex hugging her and leaving nothing to the imagination...

“I look ridiculous.”

The mirror reflected a hussy. Or as close to a hussy as a Fae could get. Aided by stiletto heels that seemed taller than the Empire State Building, the red dress hugged her curves in a way that showed every curve, every crevice. Good thing she stayed on the petite side no matter what she ate, and Kieran had made sure to provide her with a good meal before their stakeout.

He’d brought them to a safe house close to the police station, one with nondescript beige carpet and rental furniture couch and bed. It gave them a place to prepare away from the prying eyes of the captain, who—Kieran assured her—would not take kindly to Illaria coming on this undercover operation. This was strictly off the books if anyone were to ask.

It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. She was glad to be of help. And she knew wherever they went, a couple would be less conspicuous than a single male who positively screamed law enforcement.

But she kept that opinion to herself.

He still hadn’t told her where they were going, besides warning her to keep her eyes open and be on guard. Then assuring her he would not let her out of his sight no matter the circumstances.

“Where did you get these clothes, anyway?” she wanted to know.

“Lost and found. It seemed the best option at the time.”

Ugh, gross. “I think you mean worst option.”

Kieran stepped up next to her, looking equally ridiculous. They could have graced a poster for a dance club from the eighties. His pants, electric-blue leather with laces up the sides, showed off a rounded posterior she tried desperately not to stare at, and the black mesh tank top gave her a front-row seat to chest muscles she must have missed during her initial assessment. He rounded off the look with a black jacket, faux fur around the neck and sleeves.

She tilted her head back and laughed. “You are going to freeze in that getup! Look, your nipples are already hard.”

Giving one a tweak, her laughter skyrocketed when he jumped away, staring at her like she’d just told him she had a lizard tail hidden under her dress.

It was a far cry from the button-up cop she’d seen until now.

“Yeah, well, the police station doesn’t exactly have the kind of undercover gear we need for this operation,” Kieran told her with a pained expression, rubbing his chest. “I did the best I could. If I have to freeze then I’ll handle it like a big boy.”

“I just can’t believe someone actually wore these clothes on purpose. No wonder they ended up in the lost and found. Dumped intentionally, I’m sure.”

Illaria turned her attention to the mirror again and couldn’t help tugging down her hem. Without a garter belt, she’d be doing it for the rest of the night.

“Since we didn’t have much time to put this together, we adapt. I can only hope we blend in.”

“You said underground club.” It was the only piece of info he’d let slip. “I’m sure it will be dark enough that no one will stare at you. Unless your nipples keep popping out.”

Kieran crossed his arms over his chest. “You leave them out of this.”

She could see the little bare spot where the microphone tape had torn off a patch of his chest hair. Luckily, the jacket he had squeezed himself into hid part of it from view.

The club didn’t have a name, he told her on their way out the door. Only an address for the entrance, one they couldn’t find on any map. When the time came to roll out, she was surprised at the butterflies winging their way through her lower intestines. She had no reason to be nervous, not with Kieran’s concealed weapon tucked into his pants. His hand, strong and steady, reached across the space to link with hers in solidarity. Out of his comfort zone, too.

They took Illaria’s car because one look at Kieran’s assured the waiting public of his profession. No one would suspect them in her beat-up dinger, one she rarely had occasion to use. It sat in the garage for cold days when she didn’t want to be out in the elements. Or when she needed something the town could not provide.

“Get ready for this,” Kieran warned. “We don’t know what to expect.”

“And if this place is the big bad, then why haven’t the cops stormed the place before?” Illaria pushed.

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