I sagged, not daring to look or even allow myself to feel Austin right then. What a mess he’d shackled himself to.
“Right. Great.” I shook my head, at a loss.
“At least we get to be in the gargoyle line,” Ulric said out of the side of his mouth to Jasper, who nodded. Tristan’s fierce gaze darted that way, silencing the two.
“Okay—let’s…” I waved my hands, trying to bring everyone in. “Come on. Get in line. Niamh, put that back. You don’t need any more toothpaste.”
“They’re the best size for traveling, sure,” she protested. “I could just call the front desk. This saves everyone the hassle.”
“Steal on your own time.” At least she hadn’t brought that dirty old cooler. “Come on, get in line. Let’s go.” I kept waving them on, noticing the variously colored suits. The shifters and gargoyles all wore black to match Austin, with the shifters sporting blue pocket squares and gargoyles choosing purple. Perfect. My team, like in Elliot Graves’s caves, were also supposed to wear black with colored pocket squares to match their magical type. Mr. Tom matched the gargoyles, like Ulric and Jasper, but they were the only ones who fit in. Hollace had his cream, Niamh was in brown, Edgar and Indigo wore different shades of green?—
“Where is Cyra?” I demanded, checking my really cute, chicwatch. “Come on, you guys, hurry up!” My magic blasted everyone present. “We’re going to make Austin late!”
“I’m here!” Cyra ran around the corner without a stitch of clothing on her but carrying a somewhat burned red suit under her arm.
Dave fell in with his pink kilt. Bringing up the rear, not actually having been invited, came Fred. She wore a pastel-yellow pantsuit with red trim. The pants stopped at her shins, and her boots had half-inch spikes sticking out of them.
“Sorry, Jessie!” Cyra shoved Niamh out of her place, jostling Hollace. “Sorry! I thought I saw a gnome, blasted fire without thinking, and accidentally scorched part of my suit. I was trying to DIY a solution, but…”
She spread it out to show me the jacket. Holes were burned into the chest area, and I had a sneaking suspicion it would be the tips of her breasts. She didn’t have an undershirt with her. The pants had been scorched down the thighs, and half a pant leg was burned clean away.
Edgar and Indigo, having righted themselves and taken the stairs back to the second floor, jogged in, each with a limp. Their limps didn’t match, as they’d hurt opposite feet. Their suits were ripped in several places and stained in many more.
My eyes stung with unshed tears. Austin was always so perfect when I needed him. He was patient, put me first, and handled his end without a hitch. Yet after practicing with my team for months, I showed up likethis?
My throat tightened, and I nodded. “Just put it on, Cyra. Mr. Tom, will you get her an undershirt? We’re out of time, and I don’t have anything else that will fit you. My suits—in the correct color—are tailored.”
Mr. Tom ducked back into my suite to grab one.
“Oh, no, Hollace, I made her sad,” Cyra whispered, stepping into her pants. “I feel terrible. My heart hurts, Hollace.”
“I definitely think you deserve it,” he replied.
“That was not a gnome, Jessie.” Edgar raised his hand from his position at the end of the line. “I did not bring any gnomes on this journey. I’ve possibly learned my lesson. Time will tell.”
“Well, itcould’vebeen a gnome.” Indigo turned to him. “Just not one ofourgnomes.”
“Oh, yes, quite right. That’s true. It could have. I can check it out?—”
Finally, in utter defeat, my tears winning, I faced Austin. “I’m so sorry. I?—”
He put a palm to my cheek, and amazingly, I didn’t feel anger in the bonds. Or frustration. Or anything I really should have.
“I suspected something like this would happen. Maybe not so”—his gaze flicked toward the constantly moving line my crew was attempting—“flashy, but certainly not uniform. It’s better the packs know what we are up front and agree to it anyway than to agree thinking we’re something we’re not.”
“Like able to get in a straight line,” Hollace murmured.
Austin tilted his head in a nod, checked his watch, and turned. “We’re a bit early. Let’s get moving.”
“Wait.” I checked my own watch. We were ten minutes late.
“Not uniform, and never on time,” he amended as we started forward. “I planned ahead.”
I glanced at Broken Sue. “Shove my people into place if you have to. Keep them from wandering off. You too, Tristan.”
“He already is,” Indigo said with a grunt. “Shoving him back doesn’t yield any results, in case anyone else thinks to try.”
“I could get results with a shove,” Cyra said.
