Death Match by Annabel Chase

Author:Annabel Chase [Chase, Annabel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781539393085
Google: iyCJvgAACAAJ
Amazon: B01HYSUMDU
Goodreads: 31287391
Publisher: Red Palm Press LLC
Published: 2016-07-29T05:00:00+00:00

Preparing for the gala was like preparing for battle. Our dresses were our protective clothing. Our makeup was our war paint. Our weapons were...our weapons.

Farah zipped up the back of my dress and whistled. "It's a good thing Flynn isn't your date tonight. I don't think your dress would make it past the first song."

"Reed's not really my date, either," I objected. "He's just accompanying me so we can sniff around for Thompson. It's strictly professional."

She smiled. "Sure it is. Listen, say the word and I'll relinquish all drooling rights to you."

"Keep the saliva flowing," I told her, studying myself in the full-length dressing room mirror. Although the blue dress had been nice and presentable until it got dragged through the cemetery at the Woodlands, it had been a long time since I'd worn a beautiful, expensive dress. I hated how much I missed it.

"I have no interest in Captain Tenderheart," I continued, "nor do I think he has any interest in me. He's a Naphil, remember?"

"I don't know," Farah mused. "He gets this little twinkle in his dreamy eyes when he talks to you."

I tore my gaze away from my reflection long enough to glare at her. "He does not."

"You're too busy glaring at him with that same expression to notice." She gestured to my eyes and frowned.

"There is no twinkle," I insisted. "It's probably pity."

"If you say so." She circled me, searching for possible improvements. "Hair up or down?"

"In this heat? Definitely up."

She attempted to reach my hair and we both laughed. With our height difference, there was no way she'd be able to fix my hair while I was standing. She gestured to the red velvet chair.

"I appreciate your help with this," I said. It was difficult not to just snap my fingers and be ready. I wasn't used to doing.

"Hey, it benefits me, too. I get to dress up and ogle hot guys in tuxedos. Maybe even win a prize before the night ends." She wiggled her eyebrows.

I'd managed to convince Oscar to issue invitations to Farah and Mix. Between X-caliber, the Ghuls, and the sheer number of supernaturals in one room, there were too many angles for Reed and I to cover alone.

"It's not all fun and games," I reminded her. "We have a job to do."

"A job that involves a little fun and games," she replied, pulling a brush through my tangled mess of wavy hair. "French twist?"

"Why not?"

I stood in front of the mirror to gauge the full effect. It was a beautiful dress, courtesy of Lilith, one of Farah's best customers. Lilith owned one of the most expensive boutiques in the city called La Femme. When Farah told her we needed dresses for the gala, she was only too happy to pull together a rack of options. Farah had chosen her dress in about five minutes flat. It was typical Farah—an eye-catching gold dress that emphasized her boobs, butt, and tiny waist. My search lasted an hour with five costume changes. Farah was ready to shift into her fox form and bite me.

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