Free Violet Tendencies by Jaye Wells Page A

carrier.
    “Okay,” he said slowly, eyeing the bag. “Why don’t you and your”—he struggled for the proper word for a second before finally settling on—“friends come on into my office.”
    I nodded and made to follow him in, but Adam put a hand on my arm. When I looked at him, he was frowning. “Are you sure we can trust this guy?”
    I sighed. “Adam, do you really think I’d bring us here if I didn’t?” I couldn’t really blame the mage for his suspicion. But I wasn’t any more interested in finding trouble here than he was. “Fang and I go way back. He’s cool.”
    Adam jerked his head toward the door. “Lead the way then.”
    As we made our way toward Fang’s office, the pulsing beat of the club’s music made the walls throb. The noise made it unlikely Fang had overheard my hushed conversation with Adam. And thank the gods for that—I didn’t need to offend my only ally in Los Angeles.
    Fang slung a heavy arm across my shoulders and led me to a doorway at the end of the hall. “Godsdamn, it’s good to see you!” His voice boomed over the music. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again after that trouble you got into with the Dominatrixes last month.”
    I smiled at the derogatory term for the Dominae. “Believe me, I didn’t think I’d be back, either.”
    He opened a door and flipped on the light. Fang’s office was actually a storeroom with one metal desk and an ancient rolling chair shoved in a corner. The rest of the room contained shelves filled with jugs of baby oil, cases of toilet paper, and several kegs of beer. Through the crack in a door at the rear of the room, I spied a cot and some cleaning supplies. Probably for dealing with the oil slicks Fang’s skanks left behind on the stage. It wasn’t the Four Seasons, but it beat sleeping in the truck we’d boosted. If Fang let us stay there, that is.
    “Um, Sabina?” Giguhl’s plaintive voice came from inside the bag as I set it down on the floor.
    “What?” I said, flashing Fang an apologetic smile.
    “Can we switch back now?”
    I sighed. “Hold on.” To Fang, “Do you mind if I let the demons take their true forms? They’ve been stuck in these bags for a while.” We’d flashed into LA using what Adam called “interspatial travel.” It’s kind of like the magical version of having Scotty beam us up, except with more nausea. Regardless, Adam insisted the demons travel in their animal forms since we’d need to be mobile the second we touched down in the City of Angels. Besides, a cat and a peacock were easier to hide than a seven-foot-tall Mischief demon and his golden-skinned, blue-tailed Vanity demon girlfriend.
    Fang shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
    Adam and I opened zippers, and the cat and peacock emerged from their canvas cocoons. After some exaggerated stretching and whining about animal cruelty, they settled down enough for me to say the incantation that allowed them to change forms.
    A loud pop sounded in the small room, followed by two plumes of smoke—one green and the other blue—that smelled of rotten eggs. The stink cloud finally cleared enough to reveal the demons in all their naked glory. Fang stumbled back.
    Obviously amused to see the big bad vamp’s shock, Adam didn’t even bother covering his shit-eating grin. Fang’s fear was short-lived. Hard to be intimidated by two nude demons doing the pee pee dance, I guess.
    I threw a pair of sweatpants at Giguhl and a long T-shirt to Valva. I’d learned the hard way to carry extra clothes in a backpack for them. The switch between forms always resulted in exposed demon junk. Not pretty.
    Giguhl pulled on his pants quickly. “It’s an emergency.”
    “Me too,” came Valva’s high-pitched voice from inside the T-shirt as she slipped it over her head.
    Fang’s eyes tracked the demons’ every move. “Bathrooms are down the hall.”
    “I’ll go with them,” Adam said. I nodded my thanks, grateful for a second to talk to Fang without an