Maybe I had lied to Volkov if all it took was a handful of sequins to show me Atramentous hadn’t cured me of my vanity after all.
“She’s your best friend.” Neely returned to me and tapped me on the nose with the silky rosebud. “She’ll forgive you. Just don’t give her time to stew, and make sure you take her up on her offer.”
“I will,” I promised, staring out the windows at the rear of the house like I might catch a glimpse of her.
“Let’s see this dress.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “We have two hours to get you ready for your date, and I don’t even know what I’m working with yet.”
“You do the honors.” The unveiling didn’t seem as enticing as it had a minute ago.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He plunged his hands into the open bag and hauled the dress out with one smooth flip of his wrists. Silver and gold beadwork studded the sleeveless top portion, which rose in an elegant high collar while the royal-blue skirt flared in filmy layers. A matching silk wrap draped the left shoulder. The breath he sucked in mirrored mine, and he cackled at a note pinned to the bodice. “I believe this is for you.”
“Red is my favorite color,” I read aloud, “but blue reminds me of the night we met.”
“Aww. That’s so sweet,” Neely cooed as he lifted out a silver evening bag. “Maybe Grill should be a thing.”
“Grill?”
“Grier and Danill?” He rolled his hand. “Honestly, it’s like you know nothing about fandom.”
“Five minutes ago, you were telling me crazy is hereditary, and now you’re shipping us?”
“Crazy is hereditary.” He held up a finger. “But look what I found in the bottom of the bag.”
“Oh.” My fingers curled to touch the strappy silver kitten heels. “Those are nice.”
“Nice? Nice?” He wiped his thumb across my bottom lip. “Sorry, you had a speck of drool there.”
I batted his hand away with a snort. “Okay, so I have a weakness for strappy shoes with sensible heels.”
“And I have a weakness for men who put their credit cards where their mouths are.”
A fresh shiver zinged through me. Thinking about Volkov’s mouth gave me chills, and I wasn’t sure they were the good kind. Amelie bit me once after I stole the last cupcake at her seventh birthday party, and I cried for hours. How much worse would full-grown fangs be? And then there was the sucking…
“Come on.” Taking my hand, he hauled me into the downstairs bathroom to get started. “Let’s tame that bird’s nest you call hair.”
Neely refused to let me sneak a peek in the mirror while he worked. After I tried one too many times, he moved us to the kitchen table as punishment, going as far as to draw the blinds so I couldn’t catch my reflection either. He trusted me to paint my own nails. Mostly because he decided since he didn’t have polish to match my dress that I would have to make due with a clear coat, which he seemed certain even I couldn’t botch.
An hour into my makeover, the guards changed. Volkov texted me so I wouldn’t worry when I found unfamiliar faces outside the door, and also so Woolly wouldn’t evict them on reflex. So far she was tolerant of Volkov and his entourage, which made me more curious than ever why the old house had a soft spot for him. Had Maud known him? His clan? Had she resuscitated one of them? More than one?
Again I wished I could access the basement and research how all this fit, but not even the weakened wards had diminished the strength of the binding on that particular door. Whatever secrets Maud had concealed down there, and there must be thousands scribbled on notecards and tucked like bookmarks into journals, she had wanted to take them with her to her grave.
An hour after that, Neely pronounced me finished and escorted me to the parlor, where an antique mirror leaned against the wall stretching from the floor almost to the ceiling. The woman staring back at me reminded me so much of those old pictures of Mom I had to study the light fixture until I was sure no tears would roll down my cheeks and ruin my makeup.
My hair had grown long during my incarceration, but I’d chopped it off below my shoulder blades with a pair of scissors after I was released. Neely had trimmed those ends before weaving a messy fishtail braid that started where my hair parted on the left and created a thick band that he had woven into an over-the-shoulder style before curling the wavy ends. I’d skimmed enough of Neely’s magazines at work on slow nights to recognize the smoky eye treatment responsible for highlighting my wide, tawny eyes. The glossy lips and understated makeup gave me a healthy, natural glow that made me radiant.
“You are a miracle worker,” I murmured. “I knew you were good, but this is— Are you sure that’s me?”
“At work, you’re a character. I try to tailor a look to each girl, but it’s still an act.” He rested his hands on my shoulders and smiled at me through the mirror. “For this, you get to be you. Just a version of you who’s had twelve hours of sleep and whose go-to look doesn’t always involve a messy bun that resembles the aftermath of a bomb going off on top of her head.”
“Thaaanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He grinned like an imp. “Now, let’s see how your beau did guessing sizes.”
Used to getting indecent with Neely, I stripped down to my panties and bra and let him help me step into the dress. Volkov flattered me a bit by purchasing a size too small, but Neely swore at the zipper until he had me contained. Not for the first time, I thanked my time spent as a Haint for teaching me breathing was optional. The shoes fit like a dream, but I kept a pair of waders strung on a hook off the side of the porch for when the spring and winter rains puddled in the yard. He could have gotten an idea of my size from those. I preferred that rationale to him having a foot fetish.
“Keep eating to a minimum, and you ought to be fine,” was Neely’s final assessment.
However the night unfolded, I doubted I’d have an appetite once Dame Lawson finished with me.
“I owe you for this.” I clasped his hands. “How can I repay you?”
“Do you know not all the girls even check their makeup? They couldn’t care less how they look or what I’ve done with them. Others can’t be pleased no matter how I try. You’re the exception. You’re always happy to follow my lead, and you trust me to make you shine.” He squeezed my hands. “That’s all I need. This…” he swept his hand down my body, “…is soul food for the artist in me.”
“Well, be that as it may, I’ll try not to feed you too often.” I released him before he noticed my sweaty palms. “I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship.”
That fast my thoughts spun back to Amelie, and a fresh pang of misery stung me. She ought to be here, I felt almost naked without her, but it was my fault she was missing the big send-off.
The front door opened without warning, and I sucked in a sharp breath that made me dizzy in my already restricted gown. There were only two people to whom Woolly had given carte blanche, and one of them would be nursing hurt feelings until I apologized. That left the one person I really, really didn’t want to see me dressed up like I was playing princess.
“Damn.” Boaz darted his eyes from detail to detail like he couldn’t take it all in at once. “You’re gorgeous.” He gave himself a mental shake. “Jolene ain’t gonna cut it tonight, Squirt. Not in that dress.”
Or at least I think that’s what he said. I was too stunned by the crisp black suit tailored to fit his wide shoulders, the gleam of dress shoes instead of scuffed boots. His wild hair was tamed into a neat crew cut that must have happened within the last half hour since he hadn’t mussed it yet.
The pale-pink rosebud threaded through the buttonhole of his lapel left me feeling two inches tall.
“I must have missed the memo.” He flicked it when he caught me noticing. “I thought you were borrowing Amelie’s pink dress.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing for the shawl. I wanted to hide the gown that had inspired awe a minute ago but now caused my stomach to cramp. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t let you go alone.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I promise to behave.”
I choked on a laugh. “I don’t believe you.”
A throat cleared, and we both winced at having forgotten Neely was in the room with us.
Boaz had that effect on me, always had, probably always would to some degree.
“Boaz, I’m sure you’ve heard Amelie mention Neely. He works his magic on the Haints each night.” I tugged one of my curls, and he glared at me until I lowered my hand. “He was kind enough to help me with my hair and makeup.”
“Boaz Pritchard.” He stuck out his hand and winked. “I’m your new biggest fan.”
“Neely Torres.” He blushed when they shook. “Amelie said you’re a holy terror, and that I should run in the opposite direction if we ever met.”
“Amelie is my kid sister. She tends to exaggerate where I’m concerned.” In that moment, Boaz was pure Southern charm. “I’m not so bad once you get to know me.”
“He’s right,” I agreed, earning me a startled glance from brown eyes. “He’s worse. Much worse.”
“You shouldn’t listen to her either,” he mock whispered. “She’s had a raging crush on me since kindergarten. I used to have to run laps around the playground just to keep this little monkey off my back.”
Considering he was right, I didn’t have a conversational leg to stand on. Jerk.
Woolly chose that moment to quaver out another excited chime, and Neely ducked his head, looking like he wanted to be anywhere other than here. I didn’t blame him.
“Expecting someone?” Boaz studied my attire, and I heard the pieces clicking together in his head. “You have a date.”