Sin & Surrender (Demigods of San Francisco Book 6) Read online

  Sin & Surrender

  K.F. Breene

  Copyright © 2020 by K.F. Breene

  All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this ebook are figments of the author’s insane imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.

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  Contents

  1. Alexis

  2. Alexis

  3. Alexis

  4. Kieran

  5. Alexis

  6. Alexis

  7. Alexis

  8. Kieran

  9. Alexis

  10. Alexis

  11. Alexis

  12. Alexis

  13. Kieran

  14. Alexis

  15. Alexis

  16. Daisy

  17. Alexis

  18. Alexis

  19. Daisy

  20. Alexis

  21. Kieran

  22. Alexis

  23. Alexis

  24. Alexis

  25. Kieran

  Epilogue - Daisy

  Also by K.F. Breene

  About the Author

  1

  Alexis

  Huge, bare industrial bulbs hung down from a high ceiling crisscrossed with pipes, exposed electrical wire, and other odds and ends most people would consider the guts of a building. Strategically placed space heaters blasted warm air into the hollow, mostly empty space but couldn’t quite banish the chill. Even in San Francisco, winter clung to February like a child does its safety blanket at bedtime.

  “What do you think?” Aubri, my fashion consultant and stylist, swung her perfectly manicured hand through the air, indicating the row of carefully placed and accessorized dresses glittering in the harsh, barren bulbs overhead.

  “I can’t believe you rented an entire warehouse just to show me the wardrobe for the Magical Summit,” I grumbled, seated in a plush white recliner. Thankfully it was leather, or I would’ve worried I’d dirty it. A small round table sat on my right, there for the sole purpose of supporting a glass of bubbling champagne. The silver stand holding the ice bucket and bottle waited on my left. Staff stood behind me, ready to leap should I need anything. Literally leap. They were the type who’d throat-punch an old woman standing in their way if they thought I needed a napkin.

  Maybe it was the whole almost-losing-me thing, but Kieran had come back from Demigod Lydia’s mansion determined to pamper me. When I’d argued that I didn’t want any useful stalkers, he’d suggested that I needed to know how to act with service staff.

  Which was true. The Magical Summit was only a month away, and I did need to know how to act with service staff. I needed to know how to politely tell them to get lost. I needed to hide how uncomfortable I was when they fawned all over me. Having them around all the time was like etiquette boot camp.

  “Maybe your Demigod is finally branching out and spending what you’re worth,” Harding said, standing beside me, surveying the dresses. He waved a hand through the air. “Nah, that can’t be it. He’ll be cheap until the day he dies. He’s one of Poseidon’s line, after all. It’s in his blood.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Real useful, thanks,” I muttered. Harding had been hanging around more often of late, training me and helping me prepare for the Summit. Given that when he’d been alive, his Spirit Walker magic had been used as a weapon for assassinations by someone not even magical, and he’d thus been hidden away, he didn’t have practical knowledge of what I was about to face. He also didn’t have great things to say about Zander, who’d ultimately been the one to kill him. His support was welcomed, though, and training invaluable.

  Daisy started forward, dressed in plain black from top to bottom, ready for action. Zorn had been relentlessly training her, trying to ready her for the Magical Summit. She’d be the only non-magical person there, and while she’d be afforded some protection as my ward, Zorn was preparing for the worst, and preparing hard.

  “It’s too flashy for Lexi,” Daisy said, looking over the outfits.

  Bria and Red stood back by a long table loaded with enough food for a ball. The caterer had gone too far. So had Aubri, considering the least fancy dress in the bunch was still encrusted with jewels. So had the guy who’d stepped up to wipe my mouth when I’d accidentally dribbled champagne down my chin.

  Daisy was right: this whole situation was so not me.

  Donovan, Thane, and Jerry stood somewhat removed from the proceedings, standing in the open space with arms crossed over their chests, watching us with bored expressions. They’d come along in case something bad happened. We were close to the territory line separating magical and non-magical San Francisco. People from the two sides tolerated each other at best. Zorn had insisted we have protection against a possible attack, even though I had tried to explain it was a non-issue. We had magic…they did not. End of story.

  Or it would usually have been end of story. Zorn wasn’t feeling reasonable. He didn’t show stress often, but it was clear this Summit had him anxious. Kieran needed to manipulate his way to a solid placement within the leadership hierarchy (a big ask, considering the other Demigods were all older, more experienced, and more manipulative than him), all while defending his right to rule magical San Francisco. It was a lot to ask, but the safety of our crew depended on it.

  “No, no…” Aubri waved her finger at Red, who was loading shrimp onto her little white plate. “That’s not for the hired help. The hired help aren’t supposed to eat at the same table as the premier guests, of which Lexi is one by association. You need to act within your position so you can practice.” Aubri lowered her voice, as though suddenly unsure. “Demigod Kieran said so.”

  “What? That’s all supposed to be for me?” I asked, even as Red took a bite of shrimp.

  “Right, well.” Aubri dusted off her hands, as if wiping them clean of Red. “He won’t be happy, but I guess you don’t care.”

  Bria grinned and grabbed a brownie. “Lexi is one by association,” she murmured. “This is going to go so badly. So, so badly. I can’t wait.”

  Donovan snorted, and I tried not to sink into myself.

  I had a feeling she might be right. Only two things could save me from being challenged at the Summit: an official sanctioning of Kieran’s mark or a certificate of marriage. Demigods were supposed to get approval before they marked someone. The other magical leaders didn’t like that Kieran hadn’t asked (which he couldn’t have, since the first time was accidental), and rumors abounded that he’d done it to claim me, not out of love. The mark would be authorized after the fact (or not) by a special judgment committee at the Summit. As for hurrying to the altar—call me a diva, but I would not rush a huge and important moment of my life because a bunch of age-old turds wanted paper proof that I loved Kieran. If I gave in, they’d probably just find another reason to make my life hell. I’d get married when and how I pleased.

  “She shouldn’t try to be one of them, she should be herself, unapologetically.” Daisy stopped in front of one of the dresses, a long, flowing affair liable to trip me. “This is last season.”

  Aubri’s mouth dropped open and her cheeks flamed. “It was released between seasons. It was a special release!”

  “It’s old and it was made for the masses.” Daisy waved it away and kept walking down the line. “Kieran is a Demigod. Custom should be all I see. If you don’t have the top designers’ info, I can forward it to you. I’m friendly with most of them. If she shows well at the Summit, I’ll have them all.” It sounded like she was collecting trading cards. She gave Aubri a frost
y stare. “I shouldn’t need to be telling you this.”

  Daisy was only newly fifteen, but lately she sounded thirty. If surviving were an art, my younger ward would be van Gogh, except the lost ear would belong to her enemy.

  Aubri sputtered, at a complete loss. In fairness, Daisy was probably right about the gowns. My ward had a knack for style. She’d always been a dreamer, poring over magazines and wishing she could be as glamorous as the people in them, but with Kieran’s bottomless credit card, she’d made those dreams come true. What he lacked for in clout in the magical world, he could make up for in funds. He could buy his way in. Which meant we could, too.

  “I’ve always said it…” Bria paused to grab a chocolate-covered strawberry with her bare fingers, ignoring both the servant trying to do it for her and the tongs resting right next to the dish. “Lexi rocks the wild, natural look. Demigod Lydia is traditionally beautiful, but next to Lexi, she looked ridiculous. Too much sparkle and shine—like she was compensating for something.”

  “Alexis has the natural gift of being the most striking person in the room, regardless of what she wears or how she acts,” Jerry said. “Like her father.”

  A chill ran through me. I still hadn’t heard from Magnus, not even in spirit. He’d faded into the background after his intervention at Lydia’s mansion. Given I’d see him again in no time, I knew he wasn’t gone for good. This absence was planned, I just had no idea what the plan was, only that I was somehow going to be part of it.

  Daisy snapped her fingers. “Yes!” She pointed at Jerry. “Good work, giant. Yes!” She spread her arms. “Did you notice what he wore? Black on black with a tiny pop of gray. Excellently tailored and the finest quality, but no flash. No bling. Not an eye in the room would have missed him.”

  “Because he was saving our asses,” Red said. “What else were we going to focus on?”

  “There’s a reason no one likes you,” Bria said to Red.

  “Good,” Red replied.

  “That guy is used to having eyes on him,” Daisy said. “He is used to commanding a room, you could tell. He doesn’t need any flash or bravado to get attention, and the same is true of Lexi. This is all too flashy. Lately she looks more like a socialite than a magical misfit. It’s not her. No, she needs to take a lesson from dear old Dad.” Daisy turned toward me. “None of this is going to work. We need a new direction.”

  “That’s ridiculous. This—” Aubri started.

  “No.” Daisy waved it all away and gestured me up out of the chair. “We’re leaving. I’ll be styling her from now on, and I’ll be doing it without all these people standing around, eager to wait on Lexi. It makes her uncomfortable, and it shows. That’s not what we’re going for.”

  She said it so resolutely that I had to wonder if this had been her plan all along.

  “That’s absurd.” Aubri braced her hands on her hips and an indignant expression crossed her face. “Alexis hasn’t been called out for looking silly since I started dressing her. I’ve kept her consistently on the best-dressed lists. Because of me, articles praise her for her fashion.”

  “Ew, all you need to impress those people is to wear something released this year.” Daisy rolled her eyes, her attitude starting to grow back. She was a teenager—it was never far away. “Anyone shopping in the high-end stores could do that. You’ve helped Lexi blend in with all the other clowns in the circus, when really she should be standing out.”

  “Oh yeah?” Aubri popped a hip in annoyance. “What do you know?”

  “How to survive,” Daisy said, and motioned me up again.

  “She just won that argument,” Bria murmured to Red.

  “The kid is spot-on about Magnus and Lexi. That’s what won the argument,” Red replied.

  “There is literally no talking to you,” Bria said, exasperated.

  “Good,” Red replied.

  I rolled my eyes at their antics, but I was already getting to my feet. Daisy had won me over, and not just because she’d offered me an out from this sparkling, servant-crowded nightmare. She was a survivor, more so than anyone I knew. Who better to equip me for the challenges ahead? Flash and sparkle had always made me feel awkward and unnatural. If Daisy had another strategy, I was inclined to trust her. Hopefully this would also give her some control and more confidence going into such a dangerous situation.

  “Sorry, Aubri.” I gave her an apologetic smile. “She does have a point. But I’ll still need someone to do hair and makeup.”

  I followed Daisy toward the door, and the others filed in behind me, although Bria made a grab for another brownie first.

  “Wait…what?” Aubri’s voice rose in pitch. “Are you kidding me?”

  “We’ll need someone new for hair and makeup after this,” Red said as we stepped out of the warehouse, the bright sunlight raining down on us. Kieran controlled the weather in magical San Francisco, and he’d kept it chilly but sunny. His anxiety of what was to come was getting the better of him, and the sunshine helped cheer him up.

  “Oh, totally.” Bria nodded as we walked toward the waiting stretch limo. I didn’t get to drive anymore. If I didn’t have such an awesome car, I wouldn’t have cared. Given I did—well, this restriction was going into the “nope” pile after the Summit. “She’s going to be made of sugar and spite and everything terrible after this.”

  “Clever,” Red said sarcastically.

  “She has a select sort of clientele, and she works great for that clientele.” Daisy grabbed the door handle as the driver walked toward her. He hurried to intercept, but she was already ducking into the interior. “Her specialty is in leading the small-minded fashion sheep. Right now, her inspiration is the Demigod fashion sheep, but if Lexi tried to run around the Summit looking like Lydia, she’d be a laughingstock. She’d never pull it off. Lexi needs to do her own thing.”

  “And you know what that thing should be?” Bria ushered me into the limo in front of her. I slid along the bench seat next to Daisy, followed by Harding, who kinda hovered in the middle of the space.

  “No.” Daisy clasped her hands and stared out the window in front of her. “I need to think about it. Talk to Zorn and Amber.”

  “Wait, whoa.” I gave her a stop motion as Red and Donovan got in. The others would follow in the Town Car behind us. Jerry took up the space of two people, and Thane was a brick of muscle. Not even a stretch limo could hold everyone comfortably. “Amber has the sexy, lethal thing down, I’ll give her that, and Zorn can rock a tailored suit like no one’s business, but they aren’t fashion gurus. They aren’t the right people to dress me.”

  “No sh—crap, Lexi.” She huffed, and I scowled, knowing this no-swearing thing was only in effect when I was within earshot. It really defeated the purpose of having the rule. “Obviously I know they aren’t the people to pick out your actual wardrobe.” She rolled her eyes. “But they can walk us through what we should be conveying with your image.”

  The others had given me some training about etiquette, but Bria had suggested it would be best if I didn’t know everything. My mother’s chaos magic had helped us before, and it did best in uncertain situations. I said as much to Daisy.

  “Yeah, well, you should look like you’re too important”—she squinted in thought—“or maybe too scary?” She shook her head. “You need to look like you’re too something to remember those details.”

  “Does Kieran have all his stuff picked out?” Bria asked, looking through the stocked refreshments on ice. She was digging all this extra treatment.

  “He had a bunch of new suits and tuxes tailored.” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Guys have it easy. They have less options. Less wondering about how much or little to reveal, less worrying about how this cut looks on this portion of the body…” I sighed, pushing away my nervousness. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with all the politics, though. He’s really studying up. He’ll probably know his top opponents and hopefully allies better than they know themselves.”

&
nbsp; “Pay attention, because as co-ruler you’re going to have to know all that stuff, too. While worrying about fashion and not tripping in heels.” Bria settled back with an apple juice. “As soon as you get married, you’ll officially have a place by his side. He’s been pretty clear about that. Maybe he’s just doing it because he knows his dad will roll over in his grave, but whatever, it’s a rare opportunity. Run with it.”

  “Have you broken it to the others that they can’t be by your side?” Harding asked, studying me. He meant the collection of ghosts that hung around, including Jack, who was loath to be left behind. We couldn’t risk one of the other Demigods or their Necromancers snatching them up and using them, though. Demigod Lydia had already messed with my people; I didn’t want a repeat.

  I nodded, looking out the window.

  “I’ll have to be entirely absent, too, remember,” he said, and a weight settled in my middle. “My dear old dad will be at that thing, as will the guy who killed me. They’ll lose their minds if they catch me hanging around, for opposite reasons. You’ll be entirely on your own this time. I can’t be there to save you.”

  He’d never saved me a first time, preferring instead to watch the show, but his presence had always been comforting all the same. If I had questions, or needed help with something, it would’ve been nice to think he’d be around. Not this time, though. He was right—that Summit was no place for him.

  Fear washed through my middle, followed by butterflies and a flipping stomach. My phone rang a moment later.