I tugged on my skirt for the millionth time, inching it back into place as I fought to cover myself. Flashing skin and flashing skin were two entirely different concepts. Each time I nudged it down, Jezze was there hiking it back up.

“Dammit, Jezebeth.” I slapped at my friend’s hands. Yes, a half-demon werewolf badass was engaging in a slap fight with a witch.

No one could make that shit up.

“You, dammit.” My best friend zapped me, tiny sparks arching from her fingers to me. “You like this guy and you know he likes you. If you wanna bring him up to scratch, you gotta give a little to get a lot.”

I snorted. “Up to scratch? Have you been reading too many historical romance novels or did you take a trip down memory lane recently?”

We really had too much fun scandalizing the men and women during the regency period.

“Neither,” Jezze snapped.

The word liar jumped to my tongue, but a look at my friend’s expression told me voicing my accusation would end in a lot of pain. Physical for me, emotional for Jezebeth. So, I remained silent as the witch poked, prodded, and nudged my outfit into place.

The black skirt was form fitting, clinging to my hips, tracing the lines of my thighs and ending a few inches above my knees. A good ten inches of my legs were exposed to the air and that’s where my boots picked up, hugging my calf.

I extended my leg, admiring the shined, black leather. Man, I loved my Fluevogs. These weren’t my everyday calf-high lace up boots. Those suckers took a blood-soaked licking and kept on kicking customers in the face. No, these had delicate, seductive webbing that snaked up the length, giving hints of my skin and teasing the viewer. I’d seen them online and whipped out my credit card so fast, the plastic smoked. They were sexy demon chic from top to toe. And that curvy heel! It was as if the tween knew exactly what I needed.

A flick to my arm had my attention swinging to Jezze. “Quit drooling over the shoes.”

Then the woman turned back to the pile of makeup nearby and I did a quick lip check to make sure I hadn’t been drooling. And… I was dry.

“Liar. I wasn’t drooling.”

Jezze snorted. “You are so easy.” The witch turned and faced me once again, sponge in one hand and powder-caked brush in the other. “Now, hold still.”

I leaned away. “What are you doing? You wouldn’t let me do my own makeup.” I eyed the rich, creamy foundation that coated the sponge. “So what’s up with this stuff?”

Jezebeth rolled her eyes. “I’m evening out your skin tone and adding a hint of color.”

“But you said—”

“I said you weren’t rocking goth chic tonight. You can look like a real girl.”

“I am a real girl.” Mostly. Except for those demon bits and that werewolf part and then…

The witch shifted and placed the implements on the counter before turning back and grasping my hands. “Yes, but you also hide behind all that makeup, your clothes, this hair.” Jezebeth brushed some of the bright red strands from my face. “For one night, quit hiding. Let someone else see the real you and if it doesn’t work, you can go back to thick eyeliner, sparkly eye shadow and dark lipstick.”

“I like my hair,” I grumbled, refusing to address the rest of my friend’s words.

It took forever to dye and bleach the strands so that most of it was black and I had bright, shining red streaks peppered throughout. Sometimes it was blue or purple when the mood struck, but I enjoyed the splash of bright color.

“You know that’s not the point.”

Yeah, I did. Still wasn’t talking about it though.

The rapid rap of knuckles on wood echoed through the house and I froze in place. My heart stopped and I fought for calm.

“He’s here.”

“Well, yeah.” Jezze came at me with an eyeliner pencil. A light brown pencil. Blech. “He’s supposed to pick you up at seven and it’s seven.”

“I’m late?” Panic bum-rushed me.

“A tiny bit, but Mom will keep him busy.”

Right. Momma R. Since my house was still a disaster area—fucking brownies hadn’t shown up—I’d grabbed a few things from my closet, Edzard at my side, and then shot to Jezebeth’s.

The low murmur of voices reached me, Momma R’s holding a hint of annoyance and censure while Sam’s remained smooth and deep. Okay, Momma R was pushing him, but he wasn’t rising to the bait. That was good right?

“Jezze…”

“Hush, almost done.” I submitted to a few more swipes and brushes before my best friend finally stepped back. “There, all done. Now, let’s get you into your top and you’ll be good to go.”

Right. I needed more clothes. Jezebeth made me wait to slide my shirt on until makeup was done. Because… “I am not letting you out of here with foundation smeared all over yourself.”

It made me realize that was what I normally did—makeup then clothes. But, I ran a bar and slung drinks. I wasn’t sure the customers cared if I had a swath of white around the neck of my T.

I followed Jezze into her bedroom and the woman bypassed the pile of clothes I brought along and instead, went to her own closet.

“Uh, Jezze…” I snared the top I’d picked out. “I thought—”

“Yeah, not so much.” Jezebeth spun. “Arms up.”

“But—”

“Trust me. Now do it,” the woman snapped and an arc of electricity smacked my hand.

“Fine,” I grumbled and did as my best friend demanded.

In two seconds, the fabric drifted down my body. And then in that third second, my bra vanished.

“Jezebeth, what the fuck?” I spun and faced the witch. The smiling witch who dangled my bra from her fingertip.

“The blouse is meant to be worn without a bra.”

I looked down my body, my breasts practically falling from the neckline. “The chesticles need support, hon. Yours are the same size as mine. We are not women who rock out with our titties out.”

“It has a built in bra. Just look at yourself in the mirror. If you’re super uncomfortable, I will let you wear this monstrosity you call a bra and send you on your way in a frumpy, crappy, ugly t-shirt.”

I glared at Jezze, but did as asked, padding toward the full-length mirror. The moment I caught my reflection in the glass, I froze. “Holy shit, is that me?”

The witch entered the picture. “Yup.”

“Damn, I’m hot.”

“Yup.” Jezze sounded all smug about it, too.

My friend’s striking red shirt molded to my body, exposing enough of my breasts to be arousing but not trashy. The skirt clung to my hips, accentuating the dip of my waist and flare of my body before narrowing at my knees. Between the skirt and shoes, I was a vision of hidden seduction.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

Jezze thumped me. “No calling on On High. He’ll ruin your date out of spite.”

Yeah, Jezze wasn’t wrong. Well, she might be a little. I didn’t think the big guy was a spiteful ass, but I was the devil’s niece. So, there was no telling.

My friend stepped around me, delicate fingers brushing at the fabric. “Now, are you ready?”

I tugged on my skirt again, fidgeting with the fabric as I fought down my nerves. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Jezebeth rested her hands on my shoulders, capturing my full attention. “Have fun. You only get to experience your first date once.”

I frowned. “I’ve been on—”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “You’ve had hookups and meetups and everything that was definitely not a date.”

“But with Justin…” My frown deepened.

“No, you met him at the bar and you two fell into something. This is a date, Caith. He’s picking you up, taking you out, and returning you without sex anywhere in between.”

“We could…”

“You know you won’t,” Jezze countered. “This is more than a regular booty call. So take the time and get to learn about each other.” Jezebeth’s expression became even more serious. “What you’re asking of him is a big thing, Caith. You said your wolf has made up its mind, but not everyone has an animal to fall back on. Show him why you’re my best friend, why you protect this town and keep your uncle at bay when he’d love nothing more than to swallow up Orlando in one big gulp. Everyone else loves you,” Jezze released me and fussed with my top. “Now show him why.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and pretended my eyes didn’t sting. “You love me?”

Then I had my arms filled with the powerful witch, our bodies close as the woman’s arms wrapped around me. “You’re the sister my mom refused to have.”

Of course, our sweet moment had to be interrupted. Because now it wasn’t just the soft voice of Momma R and Sam that reached me.

Nope, it was several, specifically five more.

“Oh, shit,” my best friend whispered.

Oh shit was right. Jezebeth released me to race toward the front of the house and I was right behind her, hands cupping my breasts to keep them from bouncing out of my top. I hoped Sam was still breathing by the time we got to the living room. We followed the growls, snarls, and threats that poured into the house. The two of us slid to a stop in the entryway, attention on the living room, and I saw what I’d expected. Sort of.

Momma R was arguing with Papa Percy and I could see the affection strung between them despite Momma R’s anger toward the pixie king.

Papa Alrick had his fangs and claws in place as he roared at a bored looking Sam.

Behind him, Papa Eron, despite his caring nature, glared at the gel.

Papa Finn looked annoyed at the situation and not necessarily at the angel. He might not be in my corner but he wasn’t in the dads’ either. He generally wasn’t big on violence. Unicorns were the embodiment of purity. Mostly. Papa Finn had sex with my mother obviously. But he never got his hands bloody. He left that to the other dads.

The most troublesome of the dads was Papa Letholdus. He had his favorite blade pressed against my date’s throat.

With a growl of my own, I bypassed fathers two through five and went right up to the glaring warrior. “Papa Leth, let him go right now.” My father didn’t respond and I laid my hand on his wrist, wrapping my fingers around the thickness and tugging. “I mean it.”

“No. We have heard the rumors and we will not stand for this insult.”

Dear Hell. “You heard rumors? What was said? From who? I can promise whatever was said isn’t true. Now, let the nice-ish gel go.” I tugged again. “Papa?”

Papa Leth finally turned his attention to me and his eyes were filled with pure fury… on my behalf. If I wasn’t so worried about Sam, I’d be touched by his concern.

“It has been said this one will not forsake On High for you. That is an insult your fathers cannot abide. You are worth being banished to Hell itself. Even your second father is willing to brave Hell for you should you ever need us.”

“Truth,” Papa Finn added. Which was a huge sacrifice considering the purity of his soul.

“We expect no less from your mate.” Papa Leth gave my a small smile. “So we will send this worthless creature on his way and find a male who is good enough for you.”

Hell save me.

“Okay. Enough is enough.” I yanked on Papa Leth’s sword arm. “I mean it. We can talk about this like adults.”

“We are your fathers and we will—”

“I am an adult. I’m perfectly capable of making my own relationship decis—”

“Like that spineless Justin,” Papa Percy broke from his argument with Momma R. “Apologies, Alrick, but the wolf is an ass.”

“Agreed.” The werewolf wasn’t the tiniest bit annoyed with the disparagement of the local alpha. “I hated it when you two were together, but he was a wolf, so I allowed it. But this,” he practically spat, “is an entirely different matter.”

“Agreed.” The other four fathers chorused.

Everyone needed to stop agreeing.

This was so out of hand. I turned my attention to Sam. “I’m sorry about this.”

Sam grinned at me, his expression revealing his desire. “It’s fine. You look gorgeous.”

That had Papa Leth pressing his blade against Sam even harder and Papa Alrick released a rolling growl.

“Oh my Hell. You four need to back off.”

Papa Percy jumped back in. “Why not five?”

I sighed. “Because you know Papa Finn is here under duress. He hates violence.” All I’d wanted was a date. A nice meal. Maybe some making out. Good conversation. Was that too much to ask? Apparently, it was. Growing more annoyed with every thought, I finally laid down the demon-tinged law. “Look, you five are gonna leave right this second,” I snarled, my sounds overriding all other conversation.

Now I had everyone’s attention. Momma R and Jezebeth had the grace to seem afraid while the fathers each had an expression that I clearly read as “or what?”

Sam was… amused. Well, I’d take amused over disgusted and aching to run for the hills. Mainly because I was already having a hard enough time controlling my wolf. If it had its way, we’d mount him in the middle of the living room, company be damned.

I focused on the more violent of my fathers. I let a hint of my hellfire snake through my veins and settle in my eyes, making flames dance in the orbs. “I will make Chicago look like a campfire, Papa Leth. So help me, I will.”

He frowned, obviously weighing my words, but the others sensed my conviction.

“Now, Caith…”

“Let’s not be hasty…”

“I like him. I want to go on record that I like the angel…”

“Do you know how long it takes to regrow trees, Caith Belinha Morningstar?”

Good to know Papa Eron had his priorities straight.

Papa Leth narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think you will.”

“Try me.” I glared back.

Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, what happened in Chicago?”

My nothing was drowned out by everyone else’s. I hadn’t been proud of destroying a chunk of the city with my fire, but what happened was…

Papa Leth huffed and lowered his sword, his scowl remaining on Sam. “I will let you date our daughter, but if you hurt her, I will draw and quarter you and shit down your throat as you gasp for air.”

I gagged. “Papa Leth, come on.”

Sam merely raised a single brow. “I was under the impression that Letholdus served On High.”

Why couldn’t Sam shut his mouth? Why?

Papa Leth mirrored Sam’s movement. “I will always love and serve On High. My sword is always prepared for On High’s command… But not before my child. I will kill to keep her safe and die to save her life.”

Tears sprung to my eyes. My papa, my first father who hardly ever spoke of anything but swords and battle, loved me. Without saying a word, I launched myself at him, hugging him tightly. He patted my back, obviously unused to affection but I didn’t care.

“I love you, too, Papa Leth.” As quickly as I attacked him, I released him, brushing the moisture away and refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. “Now, all of you get the fuck out.”