“Do you have anything to change into?” she asked. Somehow, she knew he didn’t. If it weren’t complete insanity, she’d think this was a bit of a Thor situation, but instead of finding a mouthwatering Norse god with a magic hammer, she’d found a tall, dark, fine-as-hell swordsman who seemed to have gotten lost on his way to the Trojan War. The whole thing was starting to feel less strange by the second—which was strange in itself. Sophie supposed people were adaptable. Humans could get used to anything, good or bad.
Letting go of Piers’s arm, she headed through the automatic revolving door. Piers stayed on the other side, eyeing the transparent glass with suspicion. His hand twitched toward his sword.
Sophie did the full circle and went back for him, the damp cold outside hitting her like a snowball to the face. She grabbed his arm, drew him into the little moving wedge, and they shuffled sideways together, nearly chest to chest, until she stepped out and pulled him into the blissfully warm shop. The heater was going full blast, especially near the entrance.
Piers held out his hand and moved his fingers, as though trying to catch the heat circulating around them. He glanced back at the doorway, his eyes narrowing. If the revolving door were a dragon, he would draw his sword and slay it. Forthwith. She grinned at him.
He frowned. “Are you from the Ice Plains? Is that where we are?”
It was certainly cold enough to ice things over, but Sophie shook her head. “I’m from Connecticut.”
“Cunnetakit.” His frown deepened. “This place is new to me.”
“I’ll bet.” Her lips twitched. She didn’t want Piers to think she was mocking him, but it was hard not to get a kick out of his mistrust of a revolving door and obvious fascination with central heating. “Do you have any other clothes?” she asked again.
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind one of these puffy things everyone is wearing.” He glanced at her pink parka. Hesitantly, he reached out and poked the zipper with a really tanned finger for New York in December. “Do you have another one of these?”
“Uh…not on me. But I’m pretty sure we can find something here.”
“Do they accept coins?” he asked, glancing around the store.
She rolled her lips in to keep from smiling. “Well, you’d definitely need a lot of them.”
His color rose. “I’m a little lost here…Sophronia. I might not have the means to pay.” Piers started for the exit.
“Hold on.” Sophie grabbed his arm and steered him toward the jackets. “You just saved my life. Literally. I have money in the bank, and the least I can do is buy you some proper winter clothing.”
“You don’t need to buy me anything.” He looked as if she’d tried to call him Bob again.
“I know I don’tneedto, but I want to. Don’t people repay debts in Sinta?” Wherever the hell that was.
A muscle ticked near his eye. “They don’t pay a prince back for helping a lady in distress.”
“Oh, you’re a prince, now?” Sophie laughed. “That’s right—third in line for the throne.”
He glared.
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you can pay me back from the…eh…royal coffers. But let’s just get what you need for now.”
He finally agreed, but it was like pulling teeth from a rhinoceros. Sophie had never met a more stubborn man in her life.
Or one more sinfully handsome. They finished with Piers in a cream-colored V-neck sweater that hugged his strong torso (she could see his six pack—possibly eight—practically waving at her from under the material), dark cargo pants (he really liked all the pockets), solid leather boots (he didnotenjoy laces instead of buckles), and a navy-blue winter jacket they’d had to get in XL because nothing else fit Piers’s tall, muscular frame. Those arms and shoulders… Sophie had snuck so many looks her eyeballs were tired from all the bouncing back and forth.
She had to admit, Piers looked pretty darn amazing in the clothes they’d picked out for him, even though he definitely needed a shower. And probably a doctor. At the very least, some disinfectant. She’d dig a painkiller out of her purse when she could stop staring, although he’d probably refuse her “sorcery” and just look around for the next enemy to wallop.
Sophie hid her smile, especially because Piers didn’t seem all that comfortable in his new outfit. He kept plucking at his sweater and muttering about how formfitting it was. She wasn’t the only one gawking. The salesman was just as impressed with Piers’s physique as she was. The salesman wanted tobehim, even with all the cuts and bruises. It was cute and funny. They got ten percent off, which was even better.
When they’d finished, Sophie paid, although Piers didn’t look at ease with that, and he really didn’t understand the idea of a credit card. She wasn’t sure she should be using her card with an evil genius like Novalight tracking her for the shard, but what choice did she have? It wasn’t as if she had oodles of cash stuffed down her bra. Besides, New York was huge. She’d stop at the nearest ATM to get money for a new hotel room and food, not use her card again for a while, and leave the neighborhood. Rinse and repeat, as necessary—or until her funds ran out. At least now, she had a bodyguard.
With Piers just outside in the now heavily falling snow—and discovering whatwaterproofmeant for his new boots and jacket—Sophie pretended to have left something at the register and zipped back into the shop for another full change of clothing and some men’s underwear in what she hoped was the right size. Piers had saved herlife. He could at least get two outfits and some boxers out of it. While she did that, he went through the revolving door three times.
“Mastered the door now, have you?” she asked with a smile as she joined him on the icy sidewalk.
Piers gave the storefront a last long look. “There are some very interesting things here in Apple. The Magoi must be extremely powerful, and you don’t even see them. I’m impressed.”
She wasn’t sure about the whole Magoi thing, but… “Apple? As in, the Big Apple?”
Nodding, he asked, “Is Apple just one city or the whole continent?”
