The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4) by Kate Quinn (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗

Seamus actually blushes all the way up to the tips of his ears. “I…well, yes.”

All right, well I guess that explains why it felt different than the time I got drugged with the incubus semen. “So the incubus stuff makes you want to bang anything that moves,” I say to Seamus, testing my theory. “While the succubus essence is more discerning. Is that it?”

“Not exactly—” before Seamus can say more, someone passes by us, too close for comfort. Pressing closer together, we both go silent. The footsteps move away again a moment later and I heave a sigh of relief.

“Seamus,” I say to him, my voice rough with urgency. “Please, help me.”

“I…” Seamus glances behind him, then reaches to his neck, where the charm that cast glamours rests. “Take this,” he says, yanking it off and pulling it over my head.

“Why…?”

“You’re right,” he goes on, adjusting the charm—maybe with a touch more fussiness and closer to my cleavage than absolutely necessary. “I’m not entirely sold on what Together We Come has in mind for the Humans First rally, either. But I can’t go against Adorra. The supe world is small, and I’m already an outlier for not being the drink-and-fuck type of satyr.”

“Well, I’m not a satyr,” I say, slapping his hands away. “I’m a human, and I’m going to stop this shit.”

“Maybe you can,” Seamus says. “But not as Paige Harper.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Adorra has an APB out on you. After whatever stunt you pulled at the mansion yesterday, you are definitely no longer welcome at Together We Come. If you want to get away with this, you’re going to have to look like someone who belongs here.”

“What, like a desperate housewife?”

“No, I mean, someone who specifically is allowed to walk around the chocolate lab. And unfortunately most of the staff is here now, helping to load. There can’t be a double, and you definitely can’t pretend to be Adorra. She could show up here at any minute.”

“Okay….” I say, tapping my foot. Those boxes are going out the door, and I need to snag a bar. Like now.

“I know,” Seamus says, snapping his fingers. “You can be Adorra’s sister!”

“Adorra has a sister?” I ask.

“Well, half-sister,” he says, rubbing his temple. “She’s human. I can never remember her name. You’d think it’d be easy; it starts with jizz.”

I frown at him through the gas mask. “Are you sure you’re not the drink-and-fuck type of satyr? Seriously, a human whose name starts with—”

Oh, shit.

“Giselle?” I ask, my mouth going dry.

“That’s it!” His fingers go back to the charm, but this time with more of a purpose. Seamus closes his eyes and concentrates. I feel a warmth around my feet that begins to creep up my legs.

“Wait,” I say, feeling panicked. “I don’t know if—”

“All finished,” Seamus says, stepping back in triumph.

I check out my reflection in the shimmery chrome surface of the vat, and swallow. Hard.

I’m Giselle.

23

I really hate to admit it, but damn, I look good as my ex-fiancé’s wife. I am really rocking this pixie cut! I stop admiring myself for a second to think.

Giselle is Brent’s wife—and apparently, Adorra’s half-sister, but I’ll have to come back to that particular nugget. Why would Giselle want to target her own husband’s rally?

“Best of luck, jizz-lady,” Seamus whispers to me, before going to help with the rest of the boxes. There are only a few more left, and if I’m going to move, it’s got to be now.

Luckily, I’ve seen Giselle’s walk on more than one occasion—usually walking away from me and with a little more hip-swagger than technically necessary—so I’ve got this down. I waltz over to the workers, nose right up in the air where Giselle would likely have it.

“I need that box for inspection,” I say haughtily to Vicky.

“Inspection?” She stops in her tracks, hefting the box from one arm to the other. “We’ve got to get these loaded. The rally starts in—”

“I know exactly when the rally starts!” I snap at her. “My husband is the keynote, you know.”

Vicky pulls her head in like a turtle who just spotted an eagle. She’s about to hand me the box when Seraphina comes over.

“What’s going on?” The way she’s side-eyeing me, I can tell she and Giselle have probably gone around once or twice before. And honestly, I’m not sure who comes out on top in that tangle. This mermaid is not the meek girl who left Charms behind. Together We Come might not have the best intentions for the Firsters, but clearly they’ve done some good for Seraphina.

“I need to take a sample for further testing,” I tell her, going for a hair flip, then remembering that I don’t have any. Giselle’s lovely locks are in a box under my bed back home.

“Further testing?” Seraphina asks, eyes narrowing further. “Adorra didn’t say anything about that.”

Seraphina is giving me a lot more trouble than I counted on. Glamour or not, I’m sure that Adorra is enough of a witch to detect that I’m not actually Giselle. I can’t risk Seraphina calling her for confirmation of her sister’s orders...especially when the real Giselle is undoubtedly back home in New Jersey by now, getting ready for the rally.

But screw this. I’m here, and I’m not letting this moment get past me. I square Giselle’s shoulders and take a shot in the dark. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I say, channeling my inner mega bitch.

I hold my breath—and watch Seraphina wilt.

“Fine,” she says. “But I won’t give them the whole box. My informant at the rally says a crowd is already forming. We’re going to need every ounce of chocolate we’ve made.”

“Absolutely,” I agree with a sharp nod, tearing into the box and grabbing two bars. “Don’t let me hold you up,” I say.

“Is this about the deaths?” Seraphina asks and I trip a little, stopping in my tracks. Someone died?

“Why do you think that?” I ask, keeping my voice