Page 66 of Hellhound Marshal

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Iz had never worried that she would grow up like him. She knew she didn’t have his amoral greed. Her fear was that she would prove he’d been right about her, that her courage and principles were actually foolishness and naïveté.

Lately, that felt worryingly true.

She applied her makeup and did her hair, focusing on the feeling that she was steeling herself for whatever the day would bring and trying to think of this artificial, glamorized Isabelle as a kind of protective armor she could apply to ordinary Iz.

If she was going to go into battle against her own insecurities, she might as well go in armed.

*

LOGAN WAS AWKWARDLYchatting with Theo when an unearthly, pristine vision emerged from the motel room behind him.

Iz didn’t even look real. Her hair was swept up into an elegant bun, without even a strand out of place, and the deep blue blouse she wore brought out the sparkle in her eyes. Her tight black pants were patterned, black-on-black, with some subtle floral print. Either it was all custom-tailored or the clothes were just so grateful to be on her that they’d rearranged themselves to maximum effect, and Logan would believe either one.

She looked like an immaculately polished jewel or a museum exhibit you weren’t supposed to touch.

It was almost impossible to look at her like this and remember the heat and mess androughnessof their lovemaking last night, and maybe that was deliberate. Maybe she was trying to tell him something.

If so, she certainly wasn’t trying to tellTheosomething, because she immediately launched herself into his arms.

“Theo!”

“Izzie!”

His hug lifted her up off her feet, and Logan—who knew he had zero reason to be jealous—still felt a bittersweet ache at how easy they were with each other. He wished she could be that comfortable with him.

They quickly fell into conversation, with Iz tugging playfully at Theo’s hideous pocket square, and Logan excused himself to go change into the fresh clothes Theo had brought. They would probably appreciate having some privacy, anyway.

Well, he could see at once why the suitcase had been so heavy. It looked like Theo had bent the laws of space-time in order to cram as much stuff in here as was humanly (or draconianly) possible. Iz had already unpacked her share—Logan could see the now-full closet, where jewel-toned shirts and jackets now shone in the gloom—but the casestilllooked intimidatingly full.

Logan paced himself by extricating the shaving kit first. To his surprise and relief, while his mind seemed to blank out as soon as he lathered up his face, his hands still knew what they were doing. The muscle memory was still there, even if he’d only recently gotten these exact muscles back.

Maybe that meant there was hope for the rest of him, too. He certainlyfeltmore human now that he’d had his first real shave in months.

Smooth. Everything else in my life might be rough right now—I might not always be able to get through a whole conversation without blanking on some of the words, and I might be a terrible mate—but myfaceis smooth. That’s practically an ad for razors.

It gave his confidence enough of a boost to take on the sizable wardrobe Theo had loaned him.

He selected the items almost at random, but he still wound up with a ridiculous amount of Armani. He wasn’t sure he’d evenseenany Armani in person before today, let alone worn any.

Getting dressed was a revelation. Logan had always kind of hoped that expensive men’s designer clothes were an elaborate fraud, and that whatever he was buying off the rack was just as good. A suit was a suit, right?

Apparently not. This really did make him look roughly ten times better than he’d ever looked before, and when he factored in that he was coming off a long imprisonment in a cave ... it was a powerful suit. And a surprisingly comfortable one.

“Are you petting your suit?” Iz said.

He hadn’t realized she’d come in.

“I told Theo we’d join them in Cooper’s room in a moment,” she said, gesturing in the direction of the cracked-open door. “But I can go ahead and head over now, if you and your suit want to be alone ....”

Since it made a tiny smile creep onto Iz’s face, Logan couldn’t regret having been caught fondling his suit, even if it made him look ridiculous.

“It feels nice,” he said, with just a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

And, of course, he hadn’t had too much of a chance lately to feel anything nice. It was impossible to think of that with Iz right in front of him, though. Never mind grading on a curve of what he’d felt lately, she was the nicest thing he’d felt in his entire life.

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to sense where his mind had gone. “You look wonderful.”

“I know,” Logan said mournfully. “I’m going to either develop expensive tastes or spend the rest of my life feeling underdressed.”


Tags: Zoe Chant Fantasy