HOODED CLAN POWERThe Pierre Hotel penthouse, New York
Morgan was sitting at the desk trying to write the press release when Quinn walked into the library. The teen wore the dress she’d bought the previous day over her leather clothes.
“How can people wear this, it’s so impractical and painful.” Quinn adjusted the gown’s bustier over her flat chest, her face scrunched. “I can’t breathe with this on. Why are there wires inside this thing?”
Morgan laughed, “Tulle and ruffles? I didn’t think that was your style, Quinny.”
“We need skirts big enough to hide the swords and long enough to cover the boots. There’s no way we’re wearing those pointy torture devices that humans call shoes.”
“You’re not taking your swords to the ball.”
“You said we had to protect a package. We need our swords.”
