“I haven’t ordered anything from this company in ages,” I said, “and I feel magic.” I glanced at Molly and said, “You didn’t feel anything?”
Evan answered for her. “No. Neither of us.”
“Open a ward over me and the box?”
Evan and Molly stood to either side of me, at north and south, and Molly said, “Inverted hedge of thorns.” The magic snapped over me and the box with a sizzle of familiar energies. The inverted hedge kept magics inside, rather than keeping an attacker out. Which meant if the box blew up, the family and the house were safe, though my insides might be splattered across the ward like some kind of gross, bloody artwork.
Feeling uneasy, I slit the packing tape open and pulled out long lengths of big green bubble wrap. My uneasiness was warranted: the feel of magic increased with a tingle that burned and ached along my skin. Beneath the bubble wrap was an envelope. Below that, I could see black leather, the soft gleam of the leather itself suggesting that it was high quality. I peeled back some of the plastic to reveal a set of fighting leathers, far nicer than any I had ever been able to afford.
Before I removed the last layer of plastic and touched the leather I opened the envelope and read the paperwork. The leather was described as top-grain, armored with sterling silver-over-titanium chain mail and flexible plastic (to repel talons and fangs) and Dyneema (to repel blades), and it came with top-quality, heavy silk lining. More important, the leathers had been treated by the Seattle coven to repel magic. Just the jacket had to go for upward of two thousand bucks, and the box was way bigger than one used to ship a leather jacket.
There was a card with the paperwork and the leathers’ description. My trepidation growing, I placed the descriptions on the floor beside my knees and opened the card.
The leathers were from Leo, the card reading, “A gift for my Enforcer, that you may shine among the Enforcers of the Europeans, and that we might appear as worthy opponents.” And it was signed with Leo’s calligraphy-style siggie, all swirls and fancy curls.
This was vamp politics. Which meant I couldn’t say no to the gift. Not that I wanted to. Some girls want jewelry. I wanted stuff like this.
I peeled away the last layer of plastic. The leather itself put out an icy-cold magic, sparking blue and silver to Beast-vision. The texture of the magic meant the jacket was spelled for temperature control as well as being spelled against attack magic. I’d heard of such spelling. It was offered to the mundane world by the Seattle coven for mucho dinero. From outside the ward, Molly and Big Evan heaved oohs and aahs at the sight of the magic on the jacket.
These were the best leathers I had ever seen. I lifted out the jacket and the pants beneath. And the custom-made, matching leather combat boots, ones with expansion seams on the sides, held in place with leather straps. The boots would not be water-resistant at all, but they would break outward on the sides if I shifted to my half-Beast form. I had no idea how much these fighting leathers might cost. Ten thousand dollars? More?
Beneath the black leathers came a magical glow, and I realized that there was more in the box. I placed the black leathers on the floor by my knee and removed more packing paper. Below the paper was another set of leathers. My breath caught. This set was of dark gold leather, the color of my eyes when I was human, an amber gold with darker striations, almost like a . . . like a pelt. I lifted out the jacket and the pants beneath. Instantly I could see the leathers worn with the fancy ornamental gorget Leo had given me. The boots beneath were black, exact copies of the other pair.
And there was more paper below that one.
“Holy crap,” I whispered. I pulled out the next layer of paper, to see a flash of red. The third set of leathers were scarlet, my favorite lipstick tint. The magical power signature on this set was brighter, hotter, and I knew without testing them that the magics in this set were particularly strong, maybe with double rebound magic, so that any attack spell that came at me rebounded on the sender. A third pair of boots was beneath the red leathers. In the bottom there were three sets of matching grips for my .380s and for the nine-mil handguns. There were also new stakes, wood, the handgrips burned with the new Yellowrock Securities logo, the tips all silver. The blunt ends of the stakes each had a cabochon gem in the end, blackstone, garnet, or citrine, matching the leathers, four stakes in each gem color, to wear like jewelry in my hair. Jewelry deadly to vamps.
But there was still more. In the bottom was a second box, this one sealed and marked with the name Eli Younger. I indicated that the inverted hedge could be dropped and I lifted out the box, holding it up to Eli.
He accepted it, standing over me and my pile of fighting finery. He knelt beside me and sliced through the sealing tape. Inside, wrapped in matching packing paper, was a set of leathers, matte black, as befitted a second.
From the living room Edmund said, sounding droll, “They match mine, which were given to me by Leo before he kicked me out. They are hanging in the storage room, in a garment bag. I do hope they aren’t in the way.” There was something snide in the last line, but I ignored it, my thoughts on the time schedule for ordering, measuring, cutting, sewing, shaping, and spelling so many sets of leathers in so many different colors and sizes.
There was a smaller, bright red cardboard box to the side, one I hadn’t even noticed. It had no address on it, and had been hand-delivered. I looked the question at the boys and Edmund said, “From George Dumas.” More snide, which I again ignored.
I opened the box and peeled back the tissue paper inside. And I lifted out the thing on top.