Chapter 19

Rory

This is a mistake.

A colossal, idiotic, ridiculous mistake that I'll regret as soon as I make an ass of myself.

It's not a question of if —it's pretty much a guarantee. My skills at embarrassing myself have been honed over a lifetime. Practiced daily. Sharpened like an embarrassed, awkward knife until it's ready to hack away at my dignity.

"Holy shit, you are so fucking handsome!" Cas is almost swooning, a dreamy expression on his face. He makes heart eyes at Amon, who tries to hide how much he enjoys it with an eye roll, but his pleased grin is a dead giveaway.

Amon stays cool, almost bored, as he replies, "Not so bad yourself." My smile widens as Cas launches himself into Amon's arms, smothering him with a kiss that's more of a tackle. He sputters and pushes Cas away, wiping his hand over his lips in annoyance. It's an act, though—we all know there's no real fire behind it.

The true nature of the big softie has been exposed.

My chuckle slips out as they both turn to me, a perfect representation of their personalities. Cas is visibly delighted, a giant smile digging into his cheeks and his body language relaxed. Amon sports his signature half-scowl, long hair curtained over one eye and casting a shadow over his rugged face. They are clad in similar black suits, meticulously tailored to their builds.

I glance at my PJs. "I… uh… wasn't sure what to wear, so I haven't exactly gotten very far." In my defense all they did was think about how hot and suave they wanted to look tonight, and it happened.

"Never mind that," Amon says in his smooth, deep timbre, moving closer and resting his hands on my upper arms. His eyes shut, and a surge of electric energy courses through his body, connecting with mine.

The magic glides over my skin as my lounge clothes fade into a deep, hunter green suit with a black button-up underneath. It's slim cut and fits like a glove, the material soft and expensive.

Cas makes a frame with his fingers that he focuses on me. "Allow me…" There's another exhilarating rush of magic before he guides me to the mirror. I feel like Cinderella getting ready for the ball, except instead of talking, chubby mice, it's sexy demons.

I grin at the thought, but then it falls from my face.

My reflection stares back at me, shocked.

The clothes flatter my body, the green muted enough to be sophisticated, but bright enough to make me stand out. They aren't trying to hide me or make me blend in. Against their black suits, they've made me the focus.

Me.

Suppressing tears, I lift my eyes upward. Extra curly and full of volume, my hair is pushed out of my face. It's total sex hair—a controlled chaos that's intentionally messy while still put-together. My eyes are extra vivid against the color of the suit, bright green against my fair complexion and soft with the sheen of tears.

I can't stop staring at the man in the mirror. "It's… I look…"

"Handsome?" Cas offers.

"Exquisite?" Amon says, but I shake my head at both of them.

"I look like me , just better."

Side by side, they step forward and flank me, shaking their heads as they stare. There's no more hiding as every emotion crosses their faces. Fur brushes my leg and I glance down to find Shadow, rubbing against the black leather loafers on my feet as her tail flickers.

"No, sweetheart," Cas says, running a gentle finger down my cheek and bringing my gaze back to his. "You look like you . Just as gorgeous as the first time I laid eyes on you."

"Come on," Amon says, winding his arm through mine as Cas does the same. "Let's go turn some heads."

People are staring.

At me.

They gawk, even, as we walk straight past the long line waiting to get into the club. At least one girl openly points, but Amon and Cas don't miss a beat even as I want to melt into the ground.

I can imagine the whispers. What is that plain, skinny-fat redhead doing with those two drop-dead gorgeous guys? Why does he think he's hot enough to skip the line?

I wonder if they think I hired escorts.

Oh, my god.

It totally looks like I hired escorts.

Because there's no other plausible way that these two stunning…

"Rory." Amon's voice carries his usual demanding authority as I crane my neck to meet his onyx eyes. His lips bulge out as he rolls his tongue along his teeth inside his mouth, the tiniest lift to his brow as he stares down at me.

I sigh when I realize he's expecting a reply. "Yes, Amon?"

He grips my chin and leans in, his lip pulling up just far enough to show me the very tips of his teeth. "I'm going to need you to stop now."

My throat bobs as I swallow. "Stop what?"

That hand moves down to my neck and I'm dizzy as he leans even closer. "So much sass underneath that sweet face," he murmurs, his thumb scraping back and forth over my windpipe. He tugs me forward, squeezing just enough to strain my breath into a rasp. "Stop thinking you're anything less than perfect."

Cas reprimands me with a click of his tongue. Sandwiching me between them, he runs his hand through my hair and turns my face towards him. My eyes wander to the line where people still stare, but he tightens his grip with a low growl. "Don't look at them. Look at us."

"They're staring," I whisper, and he gives me a sweet smile before he presses a soft kiss to my lips.

"Let them." He guides my face back to Amon, whose kiss is more aggressive, and this time, I'm positive there's a chorus of scandalized gasps.

Pearl clutching in the club line… now that's ripe.

"Tell me what you are," Amon demands. When I don't answer, his lip twitches in that sexy snarl again. "Tell me you're perfect."

My knees are noodles as I whisper, "I'm perfect."

"Damn straight," Cas says, giving a cheeky slap to my ass and holding tight. "Now that we've settled that, it's time to get inside and show off our boy."

"Let's do this." Amon slides his hand to my other ass cheek as they whisk me towards the door. Nerves take flight in my gut as we approach the bouncer, a broad man with black sunglasses on despite the darkness.

"Sweet shades, dude!" Cas says with a wide, genuine grin.

The giant man arches his eyebrow above the rim of his glasses. He is Cas's height, which means Amon still towers over him, but this guy's chest is a barrel, shoulders so broad he looks like he could take out a brick wall, wrecking ball style. Cas only continues smiling at him until it becomes uncomfortable.

"Thanks?" he finally says. It's definitely a question.

Cas doesn't answer, just pulls out a pair of identical sunglasses and slides them on. With that, he steps up to the barrier, patiently waiting.

The poor guy is so perplexed he doesn't argue, shaking his head a few times before unhooking the rope and allowing us to enter. Once we're through, Cas turns around and hands him yet another pair of the same sunglasses. "As a backup," he explains, then walks away, leaving a dense air of confusion behind him.

Honestly, it's on point for him.

"Go," I hiss to Amon, whose bewildered expression mirrors mine. He nods, staring at the bouncer who holds the sunglasses, face blank like his mind just exploded. Amon snaps out of it when I nudge him, and we hurry away from the lobotomy behind us, chasing after Cas into the pulsing lights and blaring music of the club.

"What's the plan?" I ask. Amon leans closer as Cas takes his place beside me again, shades in place. Now that we're here, I'm unsure of our purpose. "I've never done anything like this. Should we go find them?"

"Find them? " Amon asks, pulling a repulsed face like I've suggested we go lick shoes on the club dance floor. "Waste our time searching for them? Oh, no, sweet Rory, that's beneath us."

"But how…"

Cas is wearing his signature grin as he leans closer—the one that might as well be a beacon for the trouble he's about to find. "No, baby, we don't go to them. They'll come to us."