Fire Night (Devil's Night 4.5)

“Yeah.” She clutched her dress, and I looked down, watching her slowly lift the hem off the ground. “I carry it with me everywhere.”

As the dress rose higher and higher, I saw black markings drifting up the golden skin of her leg.

“Ichi, ni, san,” she recited, reading the Japanese numbers like a cheat sheet on her body.

“Yon, go, roku.” She lifted the dress higher, over her knee and up her thigh. “Nana, hachi…”

Sweat cooled my forehead, and I glanced at Banks, seeing her watching us with her eyes on fire.

“Shit,” I mouthed, seeing Emmy cover her smile with her hand.

“Ku.” Soraya continued, the dress damn near rising up to her… “Juu,” she finally said.

I swallowed, my eyes flashing back to Banks, Rika standing next to her wide-eyed and looking almost ready to laugh.

I caught sight of the guys watching me too, their lips moving, and even though I couldn’t make out what they were saying, I could read their shit-eating grins.

I looked down again, trying to not see Soraya’s long leg. “That’s…that’s good.”

She dropped the dress back down. “I know the dojo is closed until after the new year, but I left my bag in the locker room.” She inched closer, and I took a step back. “Will you be in this weekend? Like for paperwork or something? I can stop by. Just really quick.”

Alone? While I’m in there…alone?

I darted my eyes to Banks, and at the same time, she and Rika dragged their fingers across their throats in a threat.

Emmy snorted, grabbing a glass of champagne off a passing tray. “I’ve seen that before. Like brother, like sisters.”

Goddammit. This wasn’t my fault. Banks was going to be pissy all night now.

I sidestepped the girl. “My wife will be in all day tomorrow, taking care of some things,” I told her. “I’ll let her know you’re coming by.”

And I got the hell out of there.

But as I tried to head to Banks, the guys dove in, cutting me off. “Someone’s in trouble,” Will teased.

“Gimme a break.” The kid has a crush. Like I could control it.

I tried to search for my wife, but the dancers were spinning, and I couldn’t see around the guys.

“Dammit,” I muttered, sliding my hands into my pockets.

“Yeah,” Michael added. “Everyone saw that.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, shit.” Damon laughed under his breath as he raised his glass to his lips. “Here come the gloves.”

Huh? I found Banks again as Rika tried to bite back her laugh, clearly talking Banks down as my woman shot glares at the teenage girl.

“See!” I turned to Michael. “What’d I tell you? Shit always hits the fan.”

“Relax,” he told me. “Banks trusts you. So teen queen has a crush on her sensei master.”

“His tutelage marked all around her thighs…” Damon taunted.

“And my wife has knives wrapped around hers,” I whisper-yelled, aware of our guests. “Shit. Look at them.” I gestured to the girls, Winter and Emory having joined them. “They’re planning something.”

Will and Michael chuckled, not moving an inch to stop anything.

“I’m more worried about that young girl than you,” Damon mused.

I was more worried about the night I had planned going to hell. My wife trusted me, but it really pissed her off when other women still didn’t care that I was married. Not that it happened often, but she saw it as a sign of the most ultimate disrespect. In that way, she and Damon were more like their father than they would ever admit.

“Get her away from my pregnant wife, please,” Michael said. “She looks like a bomb.”

Yeah.

I started to move away, but Jett ran up to me and jumped into my arms. I caught her just in time.

“Daddy, we’re going to the theater now!” she announced.

“You got everyone?” Michael asked Miss Englestat, who came up with Dag and Fane in each hand.

“Yes, sir,” she told him, breathless. “Athos is staying behind, and Mrs. Cuthbert has tabs on Madden and Octavia. Everyone else is accounted for.”

Damon’s boys grabbed on for a hug, but Ivarsen breezed past, his thumbs tapping away on his phone.

“Hey, be good,” Damon called after him.

“At everything,” the kid finished for him.

I chuckled. Tree? Meet apple.

“Happy hunting.” I kissed my kid on the nose and hugged her tight. “See you at midnight.”

But she started kicking. “Let me go or Indie will take my seat!”

I dropped her to the floor. “Be good.”

Without another word, she raced toward the foyer, one of the nannies wrapping her coat around her.

As the kids left for the next few hours—set to join the rest of the children in town for treats and festivities at the theater—the music turned a little harder and deeper, and I searched the crowd for Banks again.

But my gaze caught on something as I looked. Someone was staring at me.

Full white mask. Black cloak. Near the fireplace. I blinked and spun around, trying to find his face again as my pulse skipped a beat.