White Tiger - Page 96/154

“That’s what I’m supposed to prevent.” Seamus moved to the bathroom door with his lithe ease. “No Shifters eating you. Not even touching. Kendrick will take my head off if they do.”

“I won’t let them anywhere near her,” Remy said. He looked Addie up and down as she moved around Seamus and out of the bathroom. His blue eyes, mirrors of his sister’s, warmed with appreciation. “Nice.”

Bree had dressed Addie in a brief, tight skirt, a tank top with spaghetti straps and a lacy bra beneath, and gold, glittery sneakers with red hearts on them. Addie had expected mile-high heels but Bree said that since they were going to a fight club, Addie didn’t want heels, trust her.

Addie had been given Feline makeup—the tip of her nose was black, her cheeks had drawn-on whiskers, her eyes were made up to look tip-tilted, and she wore a headband with fake ears on it. Bree also wore Feline makeup, and she’d complemented her costume with a short, lion-tufted tail.

Bree’s mother, Nadine, came out of the kitchen, muumuu floating, cigarette in hand, and gave them a once-over. “You look like a trashy pair of tramps. Good work, Bree.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Bree said dryly.

“No sex with anyone but Seamus,” Nadine said, turning away, cigarette smoke drifting behind her. “And even then, not where I can hear you.”

“Mom,” Bree growled under her breath.

“I like her,” Ben said from where he waited in the living room.

Remy grinned at Addie. “She’s winding you up. I’m proud to escort my trampy sister and her girlfriend. I have friends who’d shit themselves with envy.” He frowned. “Then I’d have to punch them for looking at my sister and her friend like that.”

“I’d be right there with you,” Ben said. “Let’s do this on the porch, Addie.”

Ben led her outside, where he’d already laid out bowls and measuring cups he’d borrowed from Bree’s mother. He lit a sage stick that he happened to have with him, and spent a lot of time wafting the smoke over Addie’s body.

The scent-removing spell consisted of lots of chanting and Ben throwing different powders—some were kitchen spices—over Addie and her clothes. She wondered if there was truly magic in this or simply a matter of confusing animal noses with peppers, cinnamon, cardamom, and nutmeg, not to mention the sage smoke.

When Ben was finished, he returned to the living room, already deep into a discussion of cooking with Bree’s mom.

Remy held out his arms to Bree and Addie, grinning hugely. “Let’s go.”

*   *   *

Bree drove Remy and Addie in the purring pickup to the fight club, which was in a grove fifty miles away, near the Colorado River that flowed through Austin on its way to the Gulf. At the end of back roads Addie never knew existed, they found a Shifter fight club.

This one was controlled by the East Texas Shifters, Bree explained. This was not technically Morrissey territory, though Dylan came here to fight as did his son Sean and many other Shifters from Austin.

Remy eyed his sister. “It’s uncanny how you know all this, Bree.”

Bree shrugged. “When I first moved here, I checked out everything Shifter, hoping to get lucky. I got so lucky, I found Seamus. I’ve come here a few times with him. He’s a good fighter, and did I mention hot?”

“Just don’t mention it to me,” Remy growled.

Bree ignored him. “When we go in, stick close to me, Addie. I’ll tell you which Shifters are all right to talk to—who will actually talk to you and not go all mating frenzy when you simply say hello to them.”