Dark Siren by Katerina Martinez

her, and Isaac did what he had wanted to do ever since she flashed those green eyes at him. I like getting smacked on the ass, her eyes said, and he obliged. Helena yelped, and her head went up. “Again,” she said, and Isaac helped himself another slap, and another, and another until his hand and her ass were red, warm, and tingling.
    But a sudden knock at the door snapped Isaac away from the moment. He slowed the gentle rhythm of his hips, and Helena’s sighs softened. Then he heard the knocking again and he rolled his eyes.
    “Go away,” Isaac said, not caring who was on the other side of the door.
    Another knock. Harder, more forceful. He sighed, pulled away from Helena—who quickly tugged her skirt back into place—and walked toward the door as he zipped up his pants, though he hadn’t much cared to put on his shirt.
    “Someone better be dead,” Isaac said under his breath, and he opened the door.
    Dustin’s frame filled the open arch, his face bathed in the dim glow of soft, yellow light emanating from Isaac’s office. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” Dustin said.
    “I assume this is important?” Isaac asked, holding the door open with intent to close it the instant Dustin had told him why he had been interrupted.
    “It is, I think,” Dustin said. “Your, uh, wife’s here.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
    Partners
    Isaac’s smile deflated like a pinched balloon. He wasn’t sure who he had expected to see when Dustin stepped aside—a colleague, maybe, or another Mage. If something was important, he wouldn’t have put it past another Mage, maybe someone from the council, to bluff her way into his office. Instead, when Dustin stepped aside, what he got was an eyeful of Alice Werner, the last person he was expecting to see at his office door at this hour.
    “Wife?” Helena asked. Clearly she did care about his marital status.
    “Hello, Isaac,” Alice said.
    He swallowed his own breath and frowned. His cheeks were flushed, there was another girl in the room, and by the look on his face and the sweat on his chest it was clear what he had just been doing. Busted , Alice thought, and she smiled like a hungry lion who had just spotted an easy meal in the savannah.
    “A-Alice… what are you doing here?” His charming British accent came flowing out of his mouth in a perfect, honeyed tone, but a hint of nervousness tinged his words. Once upon a time his accent may have made her knees turn to jelly, but not anymore.
    “Bad time?”
    “No… no, of course not.”
    Alice cocked an eyebrow, folded her arms across her chest, and let the remainder of her grin wash across her face, though her heart was racing. “Really? Because it looks like you’re… up to your balls in work.”
    “Give me a second,” Isaac said, and he closed the door.
    Dustin said, “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
    “It’s okay,” Alice said, “I’m not really his wife.”
    From the other side of the door Alice could hear scuffling sounds, as well as some muffled talking. Isaac’s door was well sound-proofed, though. If she could only barely hear what was going on, no human could. A moment later he appeared again, with his belt buckled, his hair neatly slicked back, and his shirt buttoned.
    He opened the door further, allowing a woman to step out holding her high heels in her hands. She had a serious business face, wore a business suit, had her blonde hair up in a business bun, and had clearly just been handling Isaac’s business, but she left without so much as a second glance. Alice reached for her aura like a snake licking the air and tasted the bitterness, the disappointment, and the embarrassment. She had no real reason to feel smug about this, but enjoyed the sensation anyway.
    “Call her a cab, Dustin, if you would be so good,” Isaac said.
    Dustin nodded and headed down the corridor. Isaac gestured for Alice to step through. She did, and then it occurred to her he hadn’t asked Alice what her