The scattered lingerie bags in the back of my closet caught my eye, not because I needed to unwil ingly model any more of it, but because the day Id purchased the mass of it, Id also picked out a new pair of jeans. Cora had been in the kitchen gadget/machinery/weaponry store when I got them, so she couldnt know they were there . . .
Quick as lightning, I plunged my arms into the mountain of bags, upending them al until the dark denim dropped out of one. Yes! I shouted, raising them to the sky like they were holy. Take that, Cora Hayward. You may try to put a wedge between jeans and me, but you shal fail.
I popped to a stand, squeezing into them before Cora caught word of them on the wind and pried them out of my hands. There wasnt much hope she wouldnt try pul ing them off my body if she found me in this state of fashion incompetence, so I needed to get to the Bal and fast. Even Cora wouldnt cause a scene of jean rage in the middle of her Al iance.
I buttoned up a white linen blouse to the point of decency, but left a couple undone so the sapphire necklace would be on ful display. Wil iams promise months back that this night would come. I pul ed on my brown leather boots and made a run for the front door, peeking over my shoulder every few steps to make sure Cora wasnt expecting this kind of a betrayal from me, waiting to pounce on me.
I broke into an Immortal-speed run as soon as I was through the front door. I emptied my mind of everything except the feel of the night air breaking over my face and the way the ground gave a little at each of my hurried lunges. My confidence may have been next to non-existent regarding how tonight was going to go, but that didnt mean I had to think about it.
The white tent was glowing like something from a dream, obvious in the dark night even from acres away. My throat went dry, knowing the man I loved and the man Id be Betrothed to were waiting inside that tent. I prayed theyd be the same man.
The music streaming from it hit me next, a familiar tune I couldnt name weaving through the Haywards estate, greeting the last few guests trickling into the tent. As I crested the last hil above Charles home, I could see from the acres lined with cars that I was late. Immortals observed punctuality like it was next to godliness. It seemed odd to me that beings who lived forever thought being on time was so important. Its not like they were going any where . . . ever.
I walked the rest of the way to the tent, using those precious seconds to pul back my shoulders and hold up my head. If my Council had decided upon upending my future with a technicality, I wasnt going to give them the pleasure of knowing how much theyd beaten me.
There was a perimeter of guards surrounding the tent, spaced every twenty feet or so. Seemed like overkil to me, but if John was eager to get to the Haywards and me, I knew his ego was more than capable of ordering an attack the night of our Al iances Betrothal Bal . Had just the kind of melodramatic flair he ate up.
A couple of guards at the entrance offered me a contrived smile as I made my way in, taking in one final breath of air for good measure. Id gotten no more than a few feet inside the tent glowing with its paper lanterns strung by yours truly when everyone within viewing distance decided to turn their attention to me. Brows arched and tilted, eyes and jaws dropped, fol owed by noses turning their way north, al brought on after my Bal attire was taken in.
At the last Bal , Id stood out because everyone anticipated I was John Townsends Betrothed-to-be; at this one I stood out because I looked like the vagrant that had just wandered into some swanky hotel. I wasnt sure which instance was worse, which was kind of sad considering John Townsend had to be high up on the list of replacements for the lord of the underworld.
I wanted to cross my arms in the worst way, to fold up into myself, but I held my stance, playing the confidence card for al it was worth. I couldnt let anyone make me feel unworthy without my consent; thats what my mother had quoted to me over and over again, even when I rol ed my eyes at her in my teen years, but it was the only thing getting me through this. Even in death, my parents were stil looking out for me and it was this reminder that warmed my heart, reminding me I only cared about the opinions of those I loved. Everyone else could think, stare, and sneer at me to their hearts fil .
A form cut through the jaw-dropped gapers, instantly making me forget every last one of them save for him. Wil iam rushed towards me, stopping inches from me. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from him. He took me in purposeful y, unapologetic as his eyes roamed down the length of my body. You look breathtaking, he whispered.
You too. Tuxedo becomes you, I whispered back, thankful Id been able to form words with Wil iam packaged in clothing that made him so achingly sexy I wanted to tear it off of him.
Il be right back, he said, winking as he jogged towards the exit.
My look of confusion was al I had for him. Hed likely just gotten here, Id just gotten here, and he was leaving. Already the night was off to a rocky start. Never a good thing to see the man you loved running in the opposite direction.
Five minutes, he mouthed, flashing one hand with his fingers spread wide.
Hurry, I mouthed back, plastering on a smile when my mouth closed. Most of the unwanted attention had fol owed Wil iam out the door, mine included, and didnt return to me once he disappeared. My goodness that man had perfect timing.
I turned to wander around the outside of the tent as the center was packed with bodies mil ing around, glasses in hand, chatting as they complimented the over-the-top décor thanks to none other than Miss Jean-Thief herself . . .
Cora! I jolted like my hand had been slapped as a five foot nothing figure planted herself in front of me, fuming in a twinkling gown and a French twist.