¤Sang¤

"Ugh!" The breath wooshes out of me as I collapse back onto the couch. Somehow, my left leg ends up hooked over the back, while my right leg stretches out onto the floor. I cover my face with my hands and contemplate screaming into them, but the boys have only just left and they'd no doubt hear me.

"This is absolutely hopeless, isn't it?" I lament to James. "Please tell me this isn't hopeless. Please tell me that I did not hand pick the worst team in all of existence. Please!"

"You didn't hand pick the worst team in all of existence," James drawns, the cushion by my head depressing. "You just picked picked the team with the worst ability to socialize."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

We've been training together for a week, and already James and I have had to break up three interspecies fights, stop North from storming out twice, and convince the vamps that it is in fact, not worth draining the mutts dry since they'd die from the toxins in their blood. It's been like working with a classroom full of hyped up first graders! How on Earth could they have gotten through the initial AU training if they can't even work with a different species!?

James' hand starts massaging my scalp, and I have to all but force myself to relax into the motions.

"Sang, cher. You need to give yourself a break. These are grown men, and if they can't work out their differences on their own, then maybe they don't need to be a part of this team."

"But they're the best, James. And we need the best if we're going to beat the king chimera."

"You worry too much, Doll. Why don't you go upstairs, take a nice, relaxing bath, and go put on something sexy."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because I'm taking you out tonight." A light hit to my stomach startles me enough to move my hands from in front of my face. "Now go."

I glare at James as I take my leg off the back of the couch and sit upright. He sends me his most charming smile as I roll my eyes and leave the living room.

After an hour of soaking in my rather large white and chrome clawfoot tub, I pull the stopper and drain the tub. Stretching my lax muscles, I stand and get out, walking across the room to the glass enclosed standing shower. Starting a chest height, the glass changed from clear to a tinted bubble, giving me the much needed privacy for whenever James decided to just walk in.

The ceiling houses a large central shower head, that allows for a wonderful rainshower setting. It often reminds me of the night Phil found me; that night filled with both a happy and sad occasion. The back wall has a bench seat that I take full advantage of on most days, but the way the film from the bathbomb clings to me lets me know that today won't be one of those days.

I activate the controls for the shower and begin to wash with my loofah and the strawberry body wash that's currently in the wall dispenser. Once my hair and body are both sufficiently clean, I plait my hair into two braids and turn off the shower. Wrapping a plush violet towel around my body, I exit the bathroom by the door connected to my walk in closet. The three rooms of my suite on the top floor all connected.

I stand in front of the full length mirror connected to the back of my bedroom door and tilt my head to the side, taking in my bright green eyes and heart shaped face, my small and soft pink lips, my ivory skin tinted a soft pink from the heat of the shower. I'm pretty enough, with fairly average looks for this day and age. I know I can look beautiful when I'm actually trying, but my job is to kill things that go bump in the night. So why try? But James said to look sexy, so I guess I'm trying.

Pulling up my signature smirk, I gave myself a wink before walking away from the mirror. A silver rod, as high as me, ran the circumference of the room, on being stopped by the doors to my bedroom and bathroom. It contains my entire wardrobe. In the center of the room are two waist high dressers, with a small sitting area in the center. The leftmost dresser contains my undergarments, socks, garters and the like, while the right one contains shelves for multiple pairs of shoes; the top being a pop open display case for my jewelry.

As you can probably guess, from being alive as long as I have, I've collected quite a number of different fashions and often have to donate half of my closet at the start of any new era. Because of that, I have a little something of everything from the last few decades. Heaven knows how trends tend to repeat themselves.

Finding the start of the dresses, I slide them to one side before looking over each piece, sliding it away from me when it's not exactly the look I'm going for. James told me to put on something sexy. I keep that in mind as I look through all my different styles.

Flirty. Comfy. Pure. Daring. Mourning. Aha!

A midnight blue, silk, spaghetti strap, backless sling dress catches my eye. The front dips to just above indecent exposure with a slight raunch to it. I pull it off the hanger and hold it against my body, feeling satisfied when it stops just above my knees. Perfect!

I lay it on top of the shoe dresser and walk over to the lingerie drawers. Drying off quickly, I place the towel on top, and pull out the top drawer that holds my bras, and pull out a strapless, low cut, black bra and strap it on. Next comes a pair of seamless panties before I slip the dress on over my head. It molds perfectly to my slight curves, with no panty lines in sight. The front ruffle shows just enough cleavage without looking too slutty, and the bottom hem stops about an inch above my knees. I grab a pair of white peep toe booties off the shoe rack to complete the look, and hold them as I walk into my room.

I place them on the floor as I sit at my vanity and do my makeup; a nice smokey eye with pale pink lipstick. I smile at myself in the mirror as my phone chimes from my bed. Turning around on the stool, I walk over and pick it up on my way back to the bathroom.

James: Remember that we live in the boonies, cher. We leave in fifteen.

I roll my eyes and place my phone on the counter before pulling the hair dryer off its cradle on the wall. Setting it to high, I let it blow over my hair, drying the braids so they'll be wavy when I undo them.

With my hair dry, I head back into my room and place my phone, lipstick, and some money in a deep blue clutch and slip on my booties before heading downstairs, unbraiding my hair as I go.

Wanting to be as dramatic as possible, I open my senses to feel where James is in the house. He's relaxing in the parlor opposite the living room, standing in front of the wet bar, most likely with a glass in his hand. Perfect.

When I get to the bottom of the steps, I cast an illusion of darkness over James and walk into the room, letting my image light up with each step I take. I'm five feet in front of him when I let go of the illusion completely. His expression borders on annoyance with his pinched lips and tightened fingers on the tumbler in his hand, but lightens when he sets his eyes on me.

A slow smile overtakes his face and his brown eyes twinkle with mischief.

"Oh cher, you're going to get into a world of trouble tonight."

His bayou accent curls over me deliciously, and I smile in response.

"Well, you're the one who told me to put on something sexy. Would you like me to change?"

"Hell no." He laughs. "You should know by now that trouble is my middle name. Let's go have some fun."

****

After an hour of driving—I suppose that's what I get for living on an island—we arrive in North Charleston, and soon pull into the parking lot of a nightclub, with a mile long line. James glares at me to stay put—I may or may not have a tendency to get out before he gets to be gallant—before getting out of the car and coming over to my side to open the door. I take his extended hand, letting my legs be shown off first, and climb out of the car.

James and I walk to the entrance of the club arm in arm. The building is a single level warehouse that takes up about half of the block. The clubs name, Inferno, shines in bright red lights on the top of the building, illuminating the line of scantily clad party goers standing behind the red velvet rope.

James leads us straight to the front door where a bouncer stands in front of the tinted glass; dark shades over his eyes with a scanner in his hand. We never break our stride as James bumps fists with the bouncer before escorting me through the doors, ignoring the mumbled protests of the people on line.

The corridor we enter is empty save for a pair of double doors at its back, with two security guards standing before them. The muted sounds of music is heard coming through the doors as the security check us for weapons.

Little do they know we are weapons.

Once done, they open the door with little flourish. James tucks me into his side, his arm low around my waist, and excorts me into the dimly lit club, the bass of a hip hop song pounding through hidden speakers.

As the doors close behind us, my eyes drag over the interior, taking in every minute detail. There's rotating strobe lights, flashing every color of the rainbow, attached to each corner of the room. Directly in front of us, there are intimate circular booths, lined in what looks like red velvet, with a few of the sections roped off. To the far left is a long bar, lightly lit, with a huge shelf of bottles behind it. The bartenders work with dizzying accuracy, and I mentally applaud them for being able to move that fast while being only human. In the center is a wide dance floor, not overly crowded since it's still early in the night, but a few couples and singles move to the beat of the invisible DJ.

James leads me to the bar where we miraculously find two empty stools and introduce them to our backsides. A male bartender with short black hair and a cute dimple in his right cheek walks over to us a few seconds later flashing a bright smile. His black t-shirt looks tight enough to be painted on and shows each of his prominent chest muscles.

James gives him a flirty smile as he orders a whiskey sour for himself, and a vodka cranberry for me. The bartender nods with a wink before turning to grab the bottles off the shelf. A few moments later, drinks are sitting in front of each of us. James gives the bartender his credit card, telling him to keep the tab open, as I take my drink and turn on the stool to watch the dancers.

My eyes widen as I spot a familiar face with a nutmeg pixie cut dancing provocatively with another female with long raven hair.

"Holy shit, that's Karen," I murmur, not bothering to raise my voice since I know Janes can hear me.

He turns around to join in on my perusal of the dancefloor. "Huh, well I suppose that's why she's never returned my flirting."

"And why she always chooses to sit next to me."

James brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. "Did we ever get a solid connection between her and that drug outbreak at the high school?"

"Nothing concrete, but you'd know better than I would since she's one of yours."

"Yeah, and so is the girl she's with." James's tongue flicks out to lick his lips. "Friday nights are the perfect feeding time."

Sometimes I envy James for his ability to sense others of his race. I'm told all supernaturals have that ability. Of course I wouldn't know, what with my whole race being dead.

I hum a noncommittal sound and look back onto the dancefloor. A while later I'm on my second drink, my eyes roving over the dancefloor, and my tongue unabashedly playing with the straw of my drink when someone takes the empty seat next to me.

"I've got better things you could use that tongue for," a deep voice says, prompting me to roll my eyes and stop my fun.

I lower my drink, preparing to tell him what he could do with those things when a familiar feminine voice says, "I'm pretty sure the things you have are of no interest to her. You can run along now."

I track his movement as he looks back and forth between me and the woman behind me before shaking his head and standing up, muttering something about all the good ones being scissor sisters. I hide a smile behind my glass as I turn around to face Karen.

"That wasn't entirely necessary, but it wasn't unappreciated."

She takes a step closer. "I'm sure you can handle your own, but us girls have to stick together, right?"

"True."

Her hand comes up to twirl around a lock of my hair. "I always thought you had the most gorgeous hair."

"Thanks," I reply wirily. "Who was that girl you were dancing with earlier?"

"Who, Jade? She's no one. I'd much rather talk about you."

My eyes narrow as her hand caresses my cheek, a mostly indiscernible wisp of magic trying to push into me. Choosing to play along with her ploy, I place a hand low on her stomach and use the other to hold her hand in place on my face. Diverting my eyes, I look behind her to get a glimpse of what she's hiding. The view in front of me shocks me.

Victor, Gabriel and Luke are sitting at a booth directly across the room, drinks in front of them. The shocking part, however, is the raven haired vixen standing next to Luke. One hand leaning on the table as she bends over brushes his hair out of his face, making the physical contact she needs for her magic to work.

Karen turns to look behind her before stepping into my line of vision, her magic pushing harder into my skin. I turn my eyes up to her as they widen in surprise. She's in on this?

Oh fuck.