Page 53 of Warlocks Don't Win
In the car, I turned to him and blurted out the words, “I’m sorry for insulting your father’s memory.”
He raised a brow. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” I frowned.
His eyes softened. “My mistake. In that case, I accept your apology. You look stunning. You’re going to start a new trend: stripes. I can see it now.” He smiled a soft smile that summoned his dimple and crinkled around his eyes. Sweet. Soft. I wanted to touch every line and flex of his face until I knew every piece of it. I was such an idiot.
“Do you start a lot of trends?”
“Not particularly. I have fans that do cosplay of the characters, but I don’t think that’s considered a trend. Vilus has more players than me. His costumes are more striking.”
“Vilus? You mentioned him earlier.”
He gave me a look. “You’ve watched the show.”
“Five minutes of it.”
“Five minutes of my show, and you saw me kissing Lois? Felicity Raven is her show name.”
I sniffed. “Thank you for that information. I’m sure I find it so wonderfully interesting.”
“She’ll be there tonight.”
I stiffened up. “Will she? I suppose the two of you are great friends. She’ll be so happy to hear that you’re married.”
“Actually, she’ll be the opposite. I wonder if you’d mind being possessive and demonstrative around her. She’s the actual part of the reason I’m thinking this season would be a good time to kill myself off. I have another young actor on the show playing my apprentice who could take over who is also a great ambassador of neutral magic.”
“He sounds too young for your girlfriend.”
“I really like you being jealous, but it isn’t necessary. I’ve never had feelings for Raven or Lois, and the only reason she’s pushing the story of our real life relationship is for the press. Also to cover the string of disreputable men she tends to make mistakes with.”
“You never make mistakes with women.”
He gave me an intent look. “Mistakes with women, oh yes. But not mistakes in choosing women. Just in letting them go.”
I sniffed while my heart twinged. This conversation was unnecessary. Although it was good to have a heads up about his co-star so I didn’t react stupidly when I saw her.
Chapter
Eighteen
The ball was in a large building built out over the ocean so it looked like it was going to topple at any moment. The people weren’t just high society witches, but magic users from all over the place, living on the edge. Literally, at tonight’s ball.
The Grand Sorcerer was there at the bottom of the steps wearing her trademark fedora and gold chains. I probably should have put more thought into her look when I designed it for her, but the scarred face went mafia so easily. Scars would have been easier for me to style than stripes, but we all work with what we have.
I stood next to Winston on top of the broad stairs for a moment, picking out other familiar figures. The Dealer, Cara, Silas…My gaze went back to the Dealer. His escort had white hair and an aqua gown with much more coverage than her usual shocking outfits. She looked practically respectable, but I guess money does that to a person.
I was aware of the looks directed at me, to Winston, then back to me, calculation in every gaze, except for the Grand Sorcerer who strode up the steps she must have just gone down, her focus clearly on me.
“Stripes?” she asked, cocking her head to study me, like she wasn’t quite sure I was the right striped person. I’d kept my eyebrows dark, straight, perfectly tweezed.
“Anna. I got a new shipment of fedoras from a recently dead Italian mob boss. Direct from Napoli. You should come in some time and check it out.”
She nodded and smiled, wrinkling up her scar. I had to respect the way she didn’t let her imperfections influence her happiness. “I should. You really do know how to dress couples.” She gestured at me and Winston, then gave him a double look. “The Warlock Detective? You look so much more interesting than usual.” She leaned forward and sniffed him before she straightened and nodded. “And you smell even better. What is that? Do you have the name of the seller so I can pick some up for my husband? Our anniversary is coming up, and what do you get the man who already has everything?”
“I have some ties,” I said as her daughter joined her. She’d been talking to someone else when her mother went backwards instead of continuing appropriately into the vast ballroom.
“Ties to Winston?” Gabby said, giving the Warlock a look that was deeply suspicious, also more than slightly contemptuous. He’d sold his magical soul to the media.
