The Monster Ball Year 2: (A Paranormal Romance Anthology) by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: New Adult Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Heather Hildenbrand, LLC
Published: 2019-10-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

Magic 101. Whatever

Who is Agent—Alias—Sabine Lasalle?

That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out ever since getting out of the shower and brushing out my awesome purple hair.

Sabine Lasalle keeps no journals, has no pets and no living plants—they’re all plastic—and, to my disappointment, no guitar. Secret agent. Check. Part-time rock star. Nope. Well, I suppose it’s never too late to learn.

I know I’m supposed to get some rest, but I can’t. At least not until I open every cubby, closet, and drawer. I try to open them with my mind, being a witch and all, but they remain stubbornly closed until I pull them open with my slender fingers. I want to know what Sabine eats. What she drinks. What she wears.

She has an entire drawer of workout clothes. Looks like I’m a jogger.

Daylight streams in through the windows overlooking tall buildings. The sound of traffic and an occasional honk makes its way into the apartment.

I change and put on a pair of runners before heading out to explore the city beyond my apartment.

The sky is gray, the air crisp, but it does nothing to diminish the city’s coastal charm. A paved path takes me directly along the ocean, past parks and harbors filled with yachts. The waterfront trail leads into Stanley Park. I jog along a sea wall, looking out across the water at the city, with serene woods to my other side. There are towering wooden totems and metal statues along the route. Every bend along the trail leads me to new discoveries. I run all nine kilometers, intent on seeing it all.

After returning to my apartment, I’m ready to crash. I shower again, eyes halfway closed as warm water streams down my tall, lean body. My mind might be coming up blank, but my body is telling me I haven’t slept for a while.

Once I’ve dried off, I put on a pair of plain black cotton underpants and a green tank top with gold lettering that says: “Sassy Lassie.”

My bedroom is small, but soft fuzzy gray rugs line the sides of the queen-sized bed with its sumptuous white blanket. I crawl in and sleep the sleep of the dead or—in my case—oblivious.

Pounding at the door wakes me. I groan and keep my eyes closed. Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away. But when it stops, my body forgets the fog of sleep and goes into high alert. Next thing I know, I’m standing in my living room, in my underwear, casting a shield of energy in front of me as I confront my intruder.

Gunnar looks like he’s posing, arms flexed and a smirk on his lips. “Good, it’s coming back to you.”

The energy shield disperses as I lower my arms. My jaw drops in wonder. “Did I just teleport?” Gunnar merely nods.

“How did I do that?”

Wow! Amazing! If only I could remember how I performed this feat of nature so I can do it again.

“It’s like riding a bike,” Gunnar says. “Now, get dressed. You should have been ready and waiting for me outside.

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