Sin & Salvation (Demigod of San Francisco #3)(48)

“I doubt it,” he grumbled.

The sea breeze drifted past my nose and a line of stores curved in front of me, beside a dirty sidewalk. Behind me, a couple of stores stood alone with the moderately busy street to the back of them. Busy for the run-down dual-society zone, at any rate.

“Okay.” I adjusted the tweed shopping tote on my forearm, my inconspicuous handbag for the day, before smoothing my hair and straightening my very fine blouse. The guys had decided it wasn’t a great idea for me to go home, where Valens’s people might be watching for me, in order to grab cheap clothes that I wouldn’t be noticed in. For the first time in my life, I’d have to “make do” with overly fine attire. What a strange situation I’d found myself in.

I pressed my key fob and locked my shiny and expensive car before bending to double check that my pants went down past my ankles. “I am looking fabulous, which would be really amazing if I weren’t worried about Valens’s people randomly showing up, recognizing me, and dragging me away to torture me for information,” I murmured.

“When this is all over, I’m sure Demigod Kieran will take you out for a nice dinner or something where you can be dressed up,” Mordecai said. “He seems to understand that you like that sort of thing.”

Nervous flutters filled my belly. I’d just be happy with this all working out, period.

“First up, handbag shopping,” I said, checking the time. Early afternoon.

Pressure settled on my chest. Half the day had gone by, and I had nothing to show for it. I should be training, not shopping.

I heaved a frustrated sigh. Kieran had suggested this shopping trip, which meant he really did want supplies for the house. He wouldn’t send his people out on frivolous ventures, especially with Valens breathing down our necks. He wanted me here for a reason, and the least I could do was enjoy myself. This was a dream come true, after all.

“Come on,” I said in a hush, veering us around a car, across an empty blue handicapped space, and onto the sidewalk. “This way.” I tugged him right.

He resisted, looking down the narrow strip in front of the stores. “I smell a shifter.”

“It’s probably Jack.”

“It’s not Jack.”

I paused for a brief moment before tugging him harder. “Valens doesn’t employ shifters. He barely tolerates them. We’re fine.”

He came grudgingly but didn’t stop darting glances behind us. “I’ve never smelled a shifter in the dual-society zone before.”

“It’s a shopping complex, Mordecai, with very popular, moderately priced stores. I’m sure there have been shifters in the area a time or two. I’ve never noticed any either, but that only means none of them have ever acted out of turn. It’ll be fine.”

“What if they know me?”

I scoffed. “How would they possibly know you? The alpha himself doesn’t know what you look like now. What you smell like. And even if he somehow discovered where we used to live, we weren’t there last night. We’re safe. Both of us are.” I pulled him toward the sliding doors. The glass parted like magic, welcoming us into the store’s depths. “Besides, you only vaguely smell a shifter, right? That means the shifter is upwind and won’t catch your scent. Given that you can’t see them, they can’t see you.”

“I saw a few people walking, and one leaning against a pillar. Maybe there’s more than one.”

“Fine, but could you see their faces?” He didn’t comment. “Exactly. You were too far away for facial recognition, and even if they had a picture of your face, they wouldn’t recognize your build and your stride. We’re fine, Mordecai. We’ve got the guys and Bria with us…somewhere. If something happens, they’ll step in.”

Mordecai blew out a breath and let me drag him toward the handbags. “I just don’t know about this, Lexi. You’ve got that mark now…”

A splash of the normal excitement of the hunt rolled through me. “Please, please, let me see a Burberry. Let me see one,” I said in a hush as I toured the round racks stuffed with purses. I didn’t even care that it was a bad idea to snag a unicorn and traipse it through the shop—now that I had the means to buy one, I’d be hard-pressed to leave it on the rack.

“You already have a Burberry,” Mordecai said distractedly. His phone vibrated, and he pulled it from his pocket.

“I have one style of Burberry, yes. I would love to have two. Or maybe a fun little Kate Spade. Or, oh my God, could you imagine me carrying around a Prada? Or a Gucci? I wouldn’t even know how to act.” I pushed aside some ghastly leather thing dotted with ridiculous rhinestones. “I’d settle for a little offbeat number that looks halfway decent.”

“Jack is asking for our twenty.” Mordecai’s fingers tapped the screen. “I’m telling him that I think this shopping trip is messing with your decision-making skills.”

“It’s your attitude that is messing with my decision-making skills,” I murmured, pushing aside a pink number. “That said, can you give a girl a little space, please? I need to concentrate.”

But try as I might, I couldn’t see anything worth buying. Not one thing. Every time I’d come in here without a penny to my name, the racks had been full of fun little ditties I just had to have.