La Fay Chronicles Collection by Mina Carter

Author:Mina Carter [Carter, Mina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mina Carter

Chapter 5

He looked like a damn penguin.

Mac grumbled under his breath and yanked on the tux that was cutting him in half. Just his luck that the only one the PITA undercover costume department had was at least a size too small.

Miss Gertrude, a tiny woman of advanced years, had waved her hand when he’d complained and told him, “Youngsters these days expect everything. In my day, clothing wasn’t comfortable. Oh no, if your ribs weren’t breaking, you just weren’t doing it right. I suppose next you’ll want your shoes to fit correctly as well! Not rub blisters the size of Kentucky on the sides of your feet, hmmm?”

He hadn’t argued, simply blinked at her when she started waving pins around, seriously concerned he was about to be stabbed somewhere… unpleasant. All the time he’d been trying to work out what kind of supernatural she was, even asking Cent out in the corridor.

Apparently, she was just plain old human with a manner that was so no-nonsense she easily saw through any enchantment or illusion spell. According to the big tech as he’d escorted Mac down to the carpool, Miss Gertrude (not Mrs. or, heaven forbid, Ms.) had arrived one day to say she’d heard they needed a seamstress and as her employment in the costume department of the local theater had just ended, she was now working for PITA. Not even Placidity had argued, and she’d been with PITA ever since, never so much as batting an eyelid at all the strange beings or requests that wandered through her door.

“Why does it have to be me in the damn penguin suit?” he grumbled under his breath, knowing the comm spell would pick it up and relay it back to headquarters. “Cent would’ve looked so much better in this getup than me.”

His bear growled in agreement. They liked comfortable flannel and denim. It had barely tolerated the PITA “uniform” of black suit, mostly because it was a wool blend and his bear liked wool. Not sheep, though. His bear thought they were shifty-eyed little bastards.

“And where the hell is Al?” he added, turning to look at all the new arrivals. He was waiting by the car, a very nice sports model he’d found in the carpool, for his partner for the evening. Around him, more and more folks were arriving in similar cars that cost more than his wages in Bottomslick for like… life.

The men were all dressed in snappy tuxes (and he’d bet theirs didn’t feel like cheese wire up against their… dangly bits) and the women in ballgowns, dripping in more diamonds than were normally seen together outside of a mine.

“Al’s diverted en-route to pick up something for your cover,” Cent’s voice filled his ear. “Just play it cool and remember you’re Lord Jasper Everett Huntsford-Smythe the third, heir to a vast fortune and so stuck up he has servants to chew his food for him.”

Mac grumbled under his breath. He hated lying. It went against every instinct he had.

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