“You were taller, and you were blonde …” Killian said as he leaned back, and I watched in disappointment at our mirror selves as he pulled away and clasped the bra for me. “And the breasts … Well, I find it hard to believe this is much of a downgrade.”
“Ey!” a voice called from outside the changing room, the sharp rapping of something against the wood frame of the little cubicle. “You two better not be up to anything nasty in dere! You stain it, you buy it!”
Killian’s face wrinkled up with distaste, and he sneered, but I just smiled and turned toward him, pushing him through the curtain and into the store.
“I’ll be out in a while,” I said, because having him help me with the bras … well, now I could see his hesitation in not wanting me to take off my shirt.
I tried a few of the bras, but decided I didn’t quite like the feel of most. I made myself choose two anyway, just in case I felt like I wanted to wear them later, and let myself out of the dressing room.
“Damn near thought you died in there,” Amelie said, sitting at the bar in the corner—yes, there was a bar in the corner of the clothing shop. I didn’t remember much about my previous life, but I remembered New Orleans, and I knew the bayou, and that seemed about right. She held a bright blue drink in her hand and was sipping it slowly, watching me with honey-brown eyes. “You find something you liked in there?” she asked with a long, exaggerated wink.
I ignored her and put the bras and underwear I’d chosen on the counter. There were other things in there, too, lingerie and the like. I didn’t need those things, but I wanted them. And Sadhbh had said to buy me what I wanted.
I didn’t think Killian would mind when he saw what they were.
I headed back into the racks and noticed that Caley was missing.
“Dressing room,” Amelie called out to me and I smiled, taking my moment free from the influence of both girls to grab some items that made me feel more like … well, fucking me. I chose low-slung skinny jeans, black t-shirts, and a varied assortment of other casual items from the used section of the store. Not that I had anything against the new stuff, but … there was something about a faded pair of jeans and an old tee that said … Ciarah.
Because whoever I was then, at least I knew one thing.
I knew my name.
And there was power in that.
Unpacking all my new clothes into the closet hadn’t been too difficult as there were already several empty hangers just waiting for me to use. The drawers were somewhat more populated with Arlo’s things, but I did a little rearranging to empty out a drawer for myself.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you weren’t kidding,” the green-eyed man muttered as he stopped abruptly in the doorway and stared.
“About what?” I blinked at him, trying to keep my eyes on his face rather than his toned upper body. He was shirtless. Again. Was he deliberately testing me? Probably.I deserved it after leaving him high and dry earlier.
A grin curved over my face, remembering his shocked outrage when he realized I wasn’t finishing him off. I bet there had been a long cold shower after the girls and I had left with Kill.
“This is my room, Ciarah. There are plenty of others you can choose from that won't have sprites lurking in them.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face as he flopped down onto the bed.
“So, you go choose a new one. I like this one.” I shrugged a shoulder at him and turned back to my bags of shopping.
“No,” he snapped back, his eyes narrowing.
“Well then.” I smiled. “Looks like we’re sharing. Roomie.”
Not totally sure why I said that … A small frown creased my brow as I inspected my memory for what the hell a ‘roomie’ was, but came up blank.
There was a long pause before he responded. “Kill says you had a run-in with someone at the clothing store?”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded. “Curiosity eating at him, is it?”
“Something like that.” Arlo tightened his lips as his huge arms folded under his head. His eyes on me didn't seem to blink, but I didn't mind. In fact, I liked being watched.
“Are Reece and Amelie downstairs, too?” I tipped out the contents of the next bag onto the foot of the bed to sort through.
“Why?” he questioned, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Because I believe the information I gained concerns Reece too.” My fingers threaded through the price label of the garment I’d picked up and snapped it off.
“And Amelie? Why does she need to hear this?” The way he said her name left no doubt what his—and really all of the sidhe—thought of wolves.
“Because I like her.” I had no further reason than that. She was nice, and seemed genuinely friendly. Whoever I had been, before coming into this body, I got the hollow sense that I hadn’t had many friends.
Arlo made a noise under his breath that I couldn’t decipher so chose to ignore. For another few moments, I worked silently, folding my new clothes and placing them carefully in my drawer or on hangers.
“Done.” I beamed at the surly biker when just one top was left in my pile.
It was a vibrant red halter-neck thing, with a low, almost non-existent back and a ribbon tie around the neck. The color reminded me of Sabdh’s lips and the cut was perfect.
Grasping the hem of my t-shirt, I pulled it over my head in one clean movement and my sharp hearing picked up on Arlo's breath catching.
“What the fuck are you doing now, Veil Keeper?” he growled, but his voice held a note of curiosity and eagerness that made me chuckle.
“Changing. Is that acceptable?” I met his gaze, not blinking, and also making no move to cover up my nakedness. Like I'd said, this wasn't my body. These weren't my tits. Wherever the fuck I'd been since my earthly death, it hadn't been anywhere that modesty was considered so even if this body hadn't been a stranger to me, it wouldn't have phased me to have his hungry eyes on me like they were.
Arlo made another noise; this time I took it to be approval. Not that I needed his approval on anything. But I shrugged one of my bare shoulders and slipped the ruby red fabric over my body, then turned my back and perched on the edge of the bed.
“Do me up?” I asked innocently. This time, unlike when I'd asked Kill to help me dress, I knew exactly what I was doing.
So did Arlo.
His rough fingertips trailed up my naked spine to my neck where he took hold of the trailing ribbons and ever so carefully, tied them into a bow.
“Why the need to change?” he asked, his voice husky and thick with desire, and I could see the hard evidence straining his jeans when I turned back around. I'd already exchanged Caley's borrowed leggings for a pair of secondhand, ripped skinny jeans while I'd been unpacking my shopping, but I'd been aching to have my back bare all day.
Answering Arlo in actions instead of words, I released my wings and moaned aloud with the sheer joy of freeing those heavy appendages.