Excerpt Prince Dialle shimmered into view. I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing there and he reached for me. Movement and sound stopped as he shifted me away. While we moved without seeming to move toward wherever in Hades Dialle was taking me, all I could think about was landing wherever it was in my girly jammies. By the time the world shimmered back to normal, I'd worked myself up into a complete, frothing tizzy. We landed in the middle of Demonica. And me in my pink nightie. The first thing I said to Dialle was, "I'm going to kill you with my bare hands." He looked at me and grinned, "What?" I looked down at myself meaningfully. He followed my gaze and grinned. "I like the fuzzy slippers." My response was a glare. While I glared at him my mind was churning. I really needed to rethink my sleepwear. Maybe I should invest in some slinky black silk somethings. That way, if this happened again, I'd still be a little embarrassed to be seen in my jammies but at least I'd look hot instead of just stupid. "What am I doing at Demonica in the middle of the day in my pink nightie and fuzzy slippers?" "Alcott has agreed to talk to us again." I continued to glare at him. He gave a sigh and narrowed his eyes at me. The result wasn't much better than my nightie. I looked down and gasped. "I look like a street tart!" "You look like every man's fantasy." "Get me out of this getup right now!" Two black eyebrows arched upward in a leer and I nearly stamped a foot in frustration. "Oh no you don't! I'd rather have my pink nightie on than nothing." He waggled the eyebrows at me and I glared at him. Finally, he laughed and turned away. "Come, Astra, we have work to do." I muttered foul deprecations under my breath and started after him, trying to tug the red leather micro mini skirt lower on my thighs as I walked. It didn't do much good. Every time I took a step the rough underside of the leather got caught on the black fishnet stockings underneath and rode up my legs, threatening to expose the red and black lace thong I was apparently wearing underneath the worthless scrap of a skirt. To further my indignity, every third step I had to stop and yank the red leather bustier higher on my chest so my boobs didn't pop out. I hit the stone steps down to Alcott's office just behind Dialle, still muttering and tugging. The fire engine red shoes with the four inch spiked heels caused me to totter dangerously on each step as I followed him down. If I fall and break my neck because of these damn shoes you might feel bad. I thought at him furiously. I would never allow you to fall and break anything, my princess. Well then you'd better prepare yourself to catch me now, Dialle, because I'm goin' down these stairs either head or butt first if I don't get rid of these stupid torture devices on my feet. Just like that the shoes were gone and I was wearing soft, leather boots that reached to just below my knees. I smiled in the dark. Now that's what I'm talkin' about! Dialle's low chuckle gave me a jolt in the general vicinity of the tacky lace thong. I scowled as we emerged from the dense black of the stairs into the dim horror of Alcott's haven. At least my fashion woes had kept my mind off of what I was about to face. Small consolation. Prince Dialle stopped about five feet from the bottom of the roughly chiseled stone steps and I stopped just behind him. Tugging my bustier up and my skirt down, I tried to look like a badass. Not easy given the fact that I was dressed like a bad wet dream. |
