I groaned, looking around until my eyes found the pile of demon clothes. I withdrew a thin, frayed shirt from the pile and used it to wipe as best I could. Then I tossed it to the side. Let some stupid demon find that and try to wear it, I thought with a smirk. I used my foot to kick dirt and gravel into my toilet hole and mask the nasty urine smell.
“Done,” I said loudly.
Oliver’s obnoxious clanging immediately stopped, and he glanced over at me. His eyes rounded at the sight of me in my black tank top, and a blush exploded across his face again, extending all the way to his ears.
“Uh,” he said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Where—where is your shirt?”
I shrugged. “In my time, this is a shirt.”
“Merciful Lilith,” Oliver whispered, shaking his head. His ears still glowed red. He stepped toward me in long strides and sifted through the pile of clothes. “Here.” He handed me a black ruffly shirt that looked like something my grandmother might wear to a funeral.
My nose wrinkled. “How am I supposed to train in this?”
Oliver frowned. “What else are you supposed to wear?”
I jabbed a finger at my tank top. “This.”
Oliver snorted. “We’re supposed to blend in, remember? It might be different in your time, but in my time, this is what women wear.” He stretched his hand out and shoved the old-lady shirt in my hand.
My mouth twisted in distaste. “And I don’t suppose women wear pants—or trousers, either?”
Oliver chuckled, his gaze dropping to my jeans. “No.” He shuffled through the clothes once more and tossed a plain gray skirt at me. Then he pulled out a buttoned shirt and baggy pants.
I frowned. “I already have a shirt.”
“This is for me.”
“What’s wrong with your uniform? Howard’s wearing one.”
“Yes, but he’s well-known around here. I’m not. The best way to blend in is to avoid questions, and my uniform presents a lot of questions. Plus . . .” He bent his head to sniff his shoulder and recoiled, his eyebrows rising. “I stink.”
A loud laugh escaped my lips. “You aren’t the only one.” My thoughts turned to the vampires who’d cornered us, and I raised an eyebrow. “Although, based on how those bloodsuckers smelled, maybe the stench would help us blend in more.”
Oliver grinned at me, his eyes crinkling. He held up his clothes and cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh, change over there. I won’t look, I promise.”
I nodded as flames crept into my cheeks again.
Oliver crossed the length of the cave and started unbuttoning his uniform. My stomach wriggled, and I looked away, my breaths fast and shallow. This is insane.
I shot a quick glance over my shoulder to ensure Oliver’s back was turned before I unbuttoned my pants and slid them off my legs.
“Ouch,” Oliver hissed.
I turned to look at him, and my jaw dropped. His shirt was off, and he was inspecting the cut on his arm from the athame.
But my eyes were drawn to his naked torso. My gaze raked over the perfectly sculpted brawn of his shoulders and arms. The muscles in his back bunched in all the right ways, and the ripples in his shoulder flexed as he reached for the clean shirt. His torso stretched on and on, like a muscular plane of perfection.
Lilith help me.
My tongue turned to sandpaper, and I was acutely aware of my curves and thick thighs. But why did that matter?
I shook my head at my nonsensical thoughts and wriggled into my skirt. It was uncomfortable, but my legs could still breathe. I slid the awful black shirt over my tank top and sighed. The sleeves itched, and heat engulfed my arms from the sweltering thickness of the fabric. I eyed some of the ridiculous ruffles and ripped a few off. Then I ripped the sleeves at my elbows. Messy, but much more breathable.
“Okay, it’s safe,” I said.
Oliver bounded toward me in an off-white shirt, though he still wore his brown uniform pants and boots. The top button of his shirt was open, revealing a chiseled stretch of skin spotted with chest hair that made my stomach roil. He stood in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes drifted up and down my body, assessing me.
A slow smile spread across his lips. “Much better.” He frowned at the black fabric on the ground. “What happened?”
“Let’s just say I got in a demon fight and this awful shirt ripped in a few places,” I said in a monotone. “A real tragedy.”
Oliver snorted and inserted a few fingers into my mane of curls. My scalp tingled from his touch, and he withdrew a short twig. His brows furrowed, but his eyes danced with amusement. “Did you sleep in a tree?”
“The time travel spell didn’t send me to a very convenient terrain.”
Oliver laughed and flicked the twig off his hand.
I tried to shove my hands in my pockets, only to find I didn’t have pockets. “So, where to now?”
“Nowhere. We stay here.”
I squinted at him. “What about the mission? How are we supposed to find the prisoners if we stay here?”
Oliver stretched his arms wide. “Look around, Desi. There’s no way out of here unless you happen to be a Teleporter. We’re supposed to train until Howard or some other Teleporter summons us.”
“Howard’s a Teleporter? But—he could, like, walk through walls.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Have you not met a Teleporter before?”
I put my hands on my hips. “For your information, my boyfriend is a Teleporter. So yes, I have.”
Oliver cocked his head and looked at me in confusion. “Boyfriend?”
I groaned. Curse this stupid time period. “What do you call someone you see for romantic purposes?”
“Oh, a suitor?”
“Lilith, no.”
“Then what?”
Heat crept up my throat as I waved my hands vaguely. “He is . . . someone who is romantically interested in me and to whom I have a casual attachment.”
“A casual attachment?” Oliver laughed and ran a hand through his short, sandy
