Page 25 of Wicked Deeds

He shook his head. He, of course, was annoyingly sweat-free, his dark gray workout gear as pristine as it had been when we’d started the session.

Damned Fae. But I’d made him at least start breathing harder. One day I’d make him sweat. Until then I tried to think of him as more an early model avatar—when they didn’t show details like sweat or hard breathing——rather than admit he was barely exerting himself against me.

Better for my ego.

In contrast, I was a mess. The air-conditioning in our training gym was perfect, but while it kept out the midsummer heat, it couldn’t counteract the fact that fighting Callum took nearly everything I had. I put down the water bottle and reachedfor a towel, mopping sweat off my face and neck. Ugh. Maybe it wasn’t the exertion that heated every cell of my body so much as the burn of having my ass handed to me three times in an hour.

If we’d been fighting for real, I’d have been dead, dead and, oh yeah, more dead.

“I have to be back in the city in a couple of hours. Damon and I have a charity thing tonight. Is this thing a long discussion or something quick? I might have to rain check if it’s long. Unless it’s urgent.” I stared at him for a moment, looking for any clues in his face as to what this was about. But the Fae do inscrutable better than anyone.

“Not urgent. And it should not take long.”

I glanced around the empty gym. Pinky had a deadline for her latest movie score, so had passed on today’s session. Maia was out in one of the other rooms. She didn’t watch me every minute I was with Callum now. Fine with me. Being beaten every time was less embarrassing without an audience. “And we can’t talk about it here?”

“No,” he said. “It will make more sense at the house.”

Okay. Now I was curious. But I knew him well enough to know that Fae surprises weren’t always the fun kind. But non-fun surprises seemed to be par for the course for my week, so why the hell not? “All right. Let’s go.” Good or bad, I might as well find out.

“Quick detour by my place,” I said to Maia after I’d done a lightning quick change back into my street clothes. I regretted skipping a shower, but I didn’t have time.

“Will that leave you enough time? You have your glam squad coming at five.” She pulled up something on her datapad. Probably my schedule. No doubt Cat, Damon’s assistant, had been reminding her tonight wasn’t one of those nights we could be late.

“We’ll make it.” Or they would wait. Damon paid the makeup artist and hair stylist I used when we went to god-tier rich people events like this evening’s. The ones that cost eye-watering sums for a ticket and involved people who would never give me the time of day if I wasn’t with Damon. I kind of loathed them, but I never wanted to let Damon down by not looking like I belonged there like all the other partners who spent large chunks of their time every week to ensure they always appeared immaculate. I, on the other hand, spent mine , wading through obstreperous code or reading ancient documents or trying not to get stabbed by a Fae shapeshifter.

So now I had aglam squad, as Maia and Lizzie delighted in calling them.

It was their job to try and turn Cinderella into the belle of the ball when I needed to be. Or as close as I could get. They knew what I liked and were both excellent and fast at what they did.

Though tonight it didn’t matter what I liked. It mattered that I fit in. Everyone would be dressed to outshine, outdo and, bluntly, assert their dominance. I didn’t want to win whatever contest most of them—men and women—seemed to be playing. I wasn’t interested in billionaire power games. I had enough to worry about between witches and Fae. But Damon’s world had rules and I wasn’t going to break one unless I absolutely had to.

Back at my house, Callum offered tea and I declined. Which didn’t stop him making himself a pot.

Maia tapped her wrist, looking stern. “Don’t forget, we’re on a schedule here.”

Callum remained unperturbed. Kind of his default. Whether he did it to be irritating or whether it was the result of centuriesplaying Fae politics, I was never sure. But it annoyed Maia and if she showed it, he’d only slow down more.

I caught her eye and tilted my head toward the door. “It’s fine. Go wait in the car, I won’t be long.” I intended to be done with whatever this was and headed home as soon as possible. The house was cool, but I was regretting the not-showering decision. I felt grimy and sticky underneath my clothes.

A shower was definitely a nonnegotiable step once I got home. My gown for the ball had cost several small fortunes. So I needed Callum to say what he had to say so I could bail.

“So, what’s this about?” I asked, not willing to wait for Callum to finish fussing with his tea before we talked. Tea could be a whole ritual with the Fae, but today I didn’t have the time.

Callum spooned pale green leaves into a small sedate black teapot I didn’t recognize. Chinese, or maybe Japanese? I didn’t know enough about tea to know. Perhaps Callum had had enough of unicorns and acquired a pot more to his taste. After the third scoop of leaves, he put the spoon down and closed the tin of tea slowly.

I took that to mean he would take as long as he wanted. I chewed my lip to stop myself telling him to hurry the hell up.

“I had an idea about the nixlings,” he said while he poured boiling water into the teapot.

“Which is?”

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘set a thief to catch a thief’?”

My shoulders tensed. “Yes,” I said warily.

“Then this should be simple.”

In my experience, rarely could anything involving the Fae be called simple. “Define ‘simple’.”

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