“Just don’t say ‘bro,’” the gargoyle said, turning back for the bathroom. “Stick with what you’re good at.”
“Solid advice,” Nessa said.
“All right. I think that’s me leaving.” Sebastian grabbed his suitcase. “I’ll be out by the vans, looking bored and trying to fit in.”
“Good luck, brother,” the gargoyle said within the steamy space. He was pulling on some briefs.
“Won’t be too easy with that face.”
Sebastian closed the door behind him, still able to hear Nessa’s laughter as she finished with makeup and hair.
Niamh waited beside the van Sebastian had ridden in. She wore a black pantsuit with a sparkly bumblebee broach on her lapel, simple yet chic, and held a swatch of black fabric under one arm.
“Um.” He pointed at the van, then swung his finger to the one behind. “Did you want to switch rides, or…”
“Don’t be daft. C’mere.” She shook out the fabric, a thick, shiny black cape. “Put this on.”
“Wh-what?” He pushed her away as delicately as he could.
She shoved his hands to the side, swung him around, and fastened the cape around his neck.
Grabbing his shoulders, she jerked him until he was facing her again and then tightened it.
“Why is this happening?” he asked as Edgar walked up.
“Now.” She stepped back to survey him. “Presto-change-o, you’re a gargoyle. How d’ye like—”
“Them apples,” Edgar said. He had on the same pantsuit as Niamh, but with a sparkly ladybug broach. The twinning would have been weird regardless, but the pants had not been designed to accommodate an appendage. They were much too tight, showing an outline of something no one wanted to see. “You look nice, Sebastian,” he said. “Except for the face, of course. But you must know that, since you put it on.”
“Why are you wearing…” Sebastian cleared this throat. “Who dressed you?”
“Oh.” He looked down at himself. “Mr. Tom accidentally ordered the wrong type of suit for me.
It’s okay, though. I fit in!” He scooted a little closer to Niamh, looking between them.
“Back off,” she growled.
He smiled at her, the prominence of his canines reduced and his teeth ten shades whiter than usual, before taking a large step away.
“Better,” she responded. “Well?” Niamh lifted her brow at Sebastian. “What’re we waitin’ for, lads? Let’s get moving.”
“W-wait. Wait, wait.” He held up his hand as he backed away from them and then veered to the side, nearly falling into the opened van. “I’m not going anywhere with this cape on. I look
ridiculous!”
“Yes, you do,” Edgar said solemnly. “Maybe taking off the face will help.”
He shook his head at the vampire. “This is obviously a cape, not wings.” He pointed at the clasp against his throat. “It won’t fool anyone.”
Maybe Sebastian should rethink the watch and persona he’d planned for later. Nessa might have a point. If he couldn’t keep his composure with people he actually knew, how would he ever keep up the big-shot mage schtick with scary shifters?
Tristan walked up wearing clothes similar to Sebastian’s—a trendy sport jacket over a button-up with a popped collar and slacks. The difference was, Tristan had a lot more to show off.
A few buttons at his neckline had been left undone, revealing his man cleavage, as Nessa would call it—a slice of each popping pec showing through the V of the shirt. A curve of tattoo peeked out, its shape still covered. His slacks hugged his large, powerful thighs and his hair was relaxed, slight curls around his ears and falling across his forehead. It made the gargoyle look that much more dangerous, though for the life of him, Sebastian couldn’t put a finger on why. Tristan had shaved as well, but it didn’t detract from his rugged handsomeness and certainly didn’t diminish his powerful aura.
“We were just about to leave without ya,” Niamh told Tristan.
“No, we weren’t,” Sebastian said, grabbing for the clasp of the cape.
“Stop that, you.” Niamh slapped at his fingers.
“Okay, let’s go,” Tristan said, holding out his hand to indicate they should start moving.
“Wait—slow down, what?” Sebastian was too dumbfounded to stop Niamh from pushing him along. “Tristan, I’m wearing a cape. Are you in on this? What would Mr. Tom say about me disguising myself as a mighty gargoyle?”