Sin & Surrender (Demigod of San Francisco #6)(3)

I followed Daisy toward the door, and the others filed in behind me, although Bria made a grab for another brownie first.

“Wait…what?” Aubri’s voice rose in pitch. “Are you kidding me?”

“We’ll need someone new for hair and makeup after this,” Red said as we stepped out of the warehouse, the bright sunlight raining down on us. Kieran controlled the weather in magical San Francisco, and he’d kept it chilly but sunny. His anxiety of what was to come was getting the better of him, and the sunshine helped cheer him up.

“Oh, totally.” Bria nodded as we walked toward the waiting stretch limo. I didn’t get to drive anymore. If I didn’t have such an awesome car, I wouldn’t have cared. Given I did—well, this restriction was going into the “nope” pile after the Summit. “She’s going to be made of sugar and spite and everything terrible after this.”

“Clever,” Red said sarcastically.

“She has a select sort of clientele, and she works great for that clientele.” Daisy grabbed the door handle as the driver walked toward her. He hurried to intercept, but she was already ducking into the interior. “Her specialty is in leading the small-minded fashion sheep. Right now, her inspiration is the Demigod fashion sheep, but if Lexi tried to run around the Summit looking like Lydia, she’d be a laughingstock. She’d never pull it off. Lexi needs to do her own thing.”

“And you know what that thing should be?” Bria ushered me into the limo in front of her. I slid along the bench seat next to Daisy, followed by Harding, who kinda hovered in the middle of the space.

“No.” Daisy clasped her hands and stared out the window in front of her. “I need to think about it. Talk to Zorn and Amber.”

“Wait, whoa.” I gave her a stop motion as Red and Donovan got in. The others would follow in the Town Car behind us. Jerry took up the space of two people, and Thane was a brick of muscle. Not even a stretch limo could hold everyone comfortably. “Amber has the sexy, lethal thing down, I’ll give her that, and Zorn can rock a tailored suit like no one’s business, but they aren’t fashion gurus. They aren’t the right people to dress me.”

“No sh—crap, Lexi.” She huffed, and I scowled, knowing this no-swearing thing was only in effect when I was within earshot. It really defeated the purpose of having the rule. “Obviously I know they aren’t the people to pick out your actual wardrobe.” She rolled her eyes. “But they can walk us through what we should be conveying with your image.”

The others had given me some training about etiquette, but Bria had suggested it would be best if I didn’t know everything. My mother’s chaos magic had helped us before, and it did best in uncertain situations. I said as much to Daisy.

“Yeah, well, you should look like you’re too important”—she squinted in thought—“or maybe too scary?” She shook her head. “You need to look like you’re too something to remember those details.”

“Does Kieran have all his stuff picked out?” Bria asked, looking through the stocked refreshments on ice. She was digging all this extra treatment.

“He had a bunch of new suits and tuxes tailored.” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Guys have it easy. They have less options. Less wondering about how much or little to reveal, less worrying about how this cut looks on this portion of the body…” I sighed, pushing away my nervousness. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with all the politics, though. He’s really studying up. He’ll probably know his top opponents and hopefully allies better than they know themselves.”

“Pay attention, because as co-ruler you’re going to have to know all that stuff, too. While worrying about fashion and not tripping in heels.” Bria settled back with an apple juice. “As soon as you get married, you’ll officially have a place by his side. He’s been pretty clear about that. Maybe he’s just doing it because he knows his dad will roll over in his grave, but whatever, it’s a rare opportunity. Run with it.”

“Have you broken it to the others that they can’t be by your side?” Harding asked, studying me. He meant the collection of ghosts that hung around, including Jack, who was loath to be left behind. We couldn’t risk one of the other Demigods or their Necromancers snatching them up and using them, though. Demigod Lydia had already messed with my people; I didn’t want a repeat.

I nodded, looking out the window.

“I’ll have to be entirely absent, too, remember,” he said, and a weight settled in my middle. “My dear old dad will be at that thing, as will the guy who killed me. They’ll lose their minds if they catch me hanging around, for opposite reasons. You’ll be entirely on your own this time. I can’t be there to save you.”

He’d never saved me a first time, preferring instead to watch the show, but his presence had always been comforting all the same. If I had questions, or needed help with something, it would’ve been nice to think he’d be around. Not this time, though. He was right—that Summit was no place for him.

Fear washed through my middle, followed by butterflies and a flipping stomach. My phone rang a moment later.

“What’s wrong?” Kieran asked after I answered. He’d felt my turmoil through our soul link.

The limo rolled down the highway beside the beach where we’d battled his father. We’d gone into that fight not knowing if we’d see another dawn. And yet the prospect of becoming Kieran’s co-ruler frightened me more than facing down the former Demigod of magical San Francisco. Doing so without the lifeline of the guy who was an expert in my magic…