Page 9 of Shifter Situations

Gods, I hoped there was a spell or something to magic all these clothes clean again. If I could find a mage-run laundromat to drop all this shit off at, that’d be fucking grand.

I emptied the bag and packed tights, jeans, and shorts, and then shoved a few shirts inside. There was no need for short leather skirts or dresses on this trip, but I did toss in a pencil skirt in case I had to look ready for business with Blaire.

After I’d fucked around, wasting an hour or two on nothing, I pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a fitted white t-shirt. I snorted to myself. I was always pissy about my laundry, but I remembered how amused Jack and Grim were when they gave me this shirt.

“Dong’s Dry Cleaning and Massage.

Full service by appointment only.

Stretching and shrinking guaranteed.”

I ambled over to my bed, sitting on the edge to put socks on before I grabbed my Docs. With my head lowered, I couldn’t be sure what I saw, but I immediately recognized the sound of claws on my concrete floor.

Helios’s tail whipped around the frame of my door, and I launched to my feet, heading straight for my closet. He’d been hiding under my hanging clothes while he chewed on my shoes. Again.

Three shoes lay in the shredded remains of a dress on the floor. Black bits of leather and rubber were strewn about—my Doc Martens. The hints of bright red made me freeze in my place before turning and bolting for the door.

I could hear his claws clicking on the stairs as I sped up to catch him, shouting for him to stop.

He didn’t.

I chased him to the kitchen where I found him sitting beside Vaughn, seeking the protection of my fae with a stiletto hanging out of his mouth.

“Why, Helios? Just… Why?” I asked in exasperation, genuinely stuck between throwing my shoes at him or laughing at the big, puppy eyes he was giving me.

Vaughn glanced at Helios and grinned. “He chew your shoes up often?”

“Yes!” I threw my hands in the air before pointing at the hellhound in disguise. “Why do you chew one of every pair? Just pick half my fucking shoes and then chew those up! What am I going to do with one shoe? My Louis Vuitton’s, Helios? Seriously?”

“Calm your farm, Sweetheart,” York said absently while he checked me out. “They’re just shoes.”

I narrowed my eyes, ready to rant at him.

Just shoes! Was he fucking joking? Did he know what the price of those shoes was?

They weren’t even on the floor; they were on the shelf. And the door was shut… So there were probably big ass holes in my door handle now.

One side of Briggs’ face scrunched up as he watched my druid. “How the hell does that rhyme when you say it? Calm and farm don’t rhyme.”

“What the fuck does it even mean?” Novak inquired, tipping a bottle of beer in York’s direction.

York ignored them, moving from my left to circle around me. “Gods, your ass looks great in those jeans.”

I rolled my eyes at him, turning my body every time he tried to stand behind me. “What if I said they don’t have a crotch? Would you stop staring at my ass like that?”

“Nope,” York and Stone both called out.

Stone prowled on my right, York still moving left, and I couldn’t twist away from one without the other being at my back.

“Wait,” Novak stammered, shaking his head as if clearing his thoughts. “Those jeans are crotchless?”

“No. I was just—”

York smirked at me and yelled, “Starfish.”

I covered my face with my hands while I tried not to laugh at him. Attempting some semblance of authority, I rolled my shoulders back and gave him a blank look as I warned, “Don’t start that shit again.”

“What does that mean?” Stone questioned us.