"Let's just say we go way back." She nods, extending a hand to my sleeve, her fingers trailing its beaded edge, before sliding down to my wrist. "Lovely dress," she says, clasping me tightly. "Did you make it yourself?"
I wrench my arm free, less from the shock of being mocked and more from the chill of her fingers, the frigid scratch of her cold sharp nails freezing my skin and shooting ice through my veins.
"Isn't she the coolest?" Haven says, gazing at Drina with the sort of awe she usually reserves for vampires, goth rockers, and Damen. While Evangeline stands beside her, rolling her eyes and checking her watch.
"We really need to go if we're going to make it to Nocturne by midnight," Evangeline says.
"You're welcome to join us." Drina smiles. "Fully stocked limo."
And when I glance at Haven, I can hear her thinking: Say no, say no, please say no!
Drina glances between Damen and me. "Driver's waiting," she sings.
I turn to him, my heart caving when I see how conflicted he is. Then I clear my throat and force myself to say, "You can go if you want. But I need to stay. I can't exactly leave my own party." Then I laugh, attempting to sound light and breezy, when the truth is, I can barely breathe.
Drina glances between us, brows arched, face haughty, betraying just the briefest glimmer of shock when Damen shakes his head and takes my hand instead of hers.
"So wonderful to meet you Ever," Drina says, pausing before climbing into the limo. "Though I'm sure we'll meet again."
I watch as they disappear from the driveway and onto the street, then I turn to Damen and say, "So, who should I expect next, Stacia, Honor, and Craig?"
And the second it's out, I'm ashamed for having said it, for revealing what a petty, jealous, pathetic person I am. It's not like I didn't know better. So I shouldn't feel so surprised.
Damen's a player. Pure and simple. Tonight just happened to be my turn.
"Ever," he says, smoothing his thumb over my cheek.
And just as I start to pull away, unwilling to hear his excuses, he looks at me and whispers, "I should probably go too."
I search his eyes, my mind accepting a truth my heart would rather refuse, knowing there's more to the statement, words he failed to include-I should go-so I can catch up with her.
"Okay, well thanks for coming," I finally say; sounding less like a prospective girlfriend and more like a waitress after a particularly long shift.
But he just smiles, removes the feather from the back of my wig, and guides it down the length of my neck, tapping the very tip to my nose as he says, "Souvenir?"
And I've barely had a chance to respond before he's in his car and driving away.
I sink down onto the stairs, my
head in my hands, wig teetering precariously, wishing I could just disappear, go back in time, and start over. Knowing I never should've allowed him to kiss me, never should've invited him in "There you are!" Sabine says, grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me to my feet. "I've been looking all over for you. Ava agreed to stay just long enough to give you a reading."
"But I don't want a reading," I tell her, not wanting to offend, but not wanting to go through with it either. I just want to go to my room, ditch this wig, and fall into a long, dreamless sleep.
But Sabine's been hitting the party punch, which means she's too tipsy to listen. So she grabs my hand and leads me into the den where Ava is waiting.
"Hello, Ever." Ava smiles as I sink onto the seat, grip the table, and wait for Sabine's inebriated energy to fade.
"Take all the time you need." She smiles.
I gaze at the tarot cards laid out before me. "Um, nothing personal, but I don't want a reading," I say, meeting her eyes before averting my gaze.
"Then I won't give you a reading." She shrugs, gathering the cards and beginning to shuffie.
"What do you say we just go through the motions so we can make your aunt happy? She worries about you. Wonders if she's doing the right thing-providing enough freedom, providing too much freedom." She looks at me. "What do you think?"
I shrug and roll my eyes. That hardly qualifies as a revelation. "She's getting married, you know."
I look up, startled, my eyes meeting hers.