Between Linus and Lethe, I fell into an easy routine over the next few weeks that made the pinch in my heart lessen. I might not be a Haint, but I had a purpose. I had been hiding, I realized, and the time for that was over and done. I couldn’t keep a foot in both worlds if I wanted to belong in either.

No further vandalisms were reported. No further assassination attempts logged. No further issues at all.

The worst I had to deal with was the never-ending meetings. Event planners required more handholding than I had been led to believe. They were forever dropping by with swatches and samples and idea boards and string quartet demos.

The silent black of Atramentous was starting to appeal when the night of the ball rolled around.

I hid out in the bathroom for the better part of an hour, but the water had gone cold, and so had I.

“This is how dolphins must feel,” I told Woolly as she killed the water, and I stepped out onto the bathmat. “I’ve been waxed in places wax should never go.”

The floor register vibrated in a chuckle that almost made it worth the pain to earn that laugh.

“Stop bellyaching and come on,” Lethe called from the bedroom. “We’ve only got six hours.”

“How does it take six hours to get ready for a ball?” I grumbled. “Balls are stupid.”

“I heard that.”

I stuck my tongue out at the door. “Super hearing is also stupid.”

“Stop making faces and get in here.”

Shock clamped my mouth shut. “How did you…?”

“Please, you’ve been regressing all week. Temper tantrums, feet kicking, face-making.”

Halfway to making a face, I caught myself and sighed. “You’re right. I just really hate these things.”

“Everyone does,” she reassured me. “Me most of all, but you don’t see me crying.”

After wrapping a towel around my torso, I joined her. “You’re just excited to see Hood in a tux.”

“You’re not wrong.” Dressed in shorts and a tank, she rubbed her trim stomach. “Daddy looks good in a tux.”

“Don’t call Hood Daddy.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not emotionally equipped to handle that.”

“I was talking to the baby.” Her eyes sparkled. “You’re supposed to talk to them in utero. It helps them bond quicker after they’re born.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that. I haven’t been around a kid since I was a kid.”

A resonant chime announced the arrival of the stylist I’d hired to do us up for the event.

“Can you get that while I pull on some clothes?” I had borrowed a button-down shirt from Linus for the occasion to avoid ruining my hair. Yep. That was the only reason. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“I get dibs,” she sang, vanishing down the hall.

“Knock yourself out,” I muttered, starting to work on untangling my hair.

“I heard that,” she called. “And for pity’s sake, stop making faces, you overgrown toddler.”

Leaning over, I checked my reflection in the mirror.

Fiddlesticks.

She was right.

The door opened and shut downstairs, and voices drifted up to me.

Familiar voices.

The brush fell from my hand, and I dashed onto the landing, damp soles gliding over the polished floor.

“Grier and I go way back,” the stylist was saying.

I broke into a run, locked him in my sights, and pounced. “Neely.”

“Hey, you.” He wrapped me up in a hug. “Long time, no style.”

“You’re here.” I squeezed him some more. “I thought you were sending that Fernando guy.”

“Ferdinand, and no.” He kissed me on the cheek, right in the track where a happy tear had fallen. “Soul food, remember?”

“I remember.” I pulled back, wiping my face dry, and noticed Cruz standing in the doorway. “Oh. Hi.”

“We have three hours until our dinner reservation,” he said without inflection. “Try to be done by then.” He skimmed me head to toe. “And put some clothes on when you’re around my husband.”

Remembering I was dressed in a towel, I flushed. “I’ll…just be right back.”

Upstairs, I pulled on the white thong Lethe had insisted I buy and a pair of shorts. I gazed longingly at the bras in my underwear drawer, but my dress didn’t make allowances for one. After shrugging into Linus’s shirt, I hit the stairs, working the buttons on my way down.

“We got the introductions out of the way,” Lethe started. “So, this is your friend with excellent taste.”

“He’s a man of many talents,” I confirmed. “He does hair and makeup for the Haints. He’s amazing.”

“Y’all are going to make me blush.” Neely fluttered his lashes. “Keep going.”

With a grin splitting my cheeks, I hooked an arm through his and led him into the kitchen for the best lighting and most outlets. Plus chairs. Cruz stalked in behind us, rolling Neely’s case, and Lethe trailed him, gaze fixed on the hostile spouse.

All smiles, Neely clapped his hands. “Who wants to go first?”

“I believe I called dibs.” Lethe settled into the chair he pulled out for her. “I place myself in your capable hands.”

Cruz grumbled about Neely keeping his capable hands to himself, and Neely shot him a saucy wink.

“What color is your gown?” Neely started on her hair. “I want to borrow from that palette for your makeup.”

While they chattered away, and Cruz glowered from his corner, I breathed past the radiant happiness tightening my chest. The night wasn’t perfect. There was an Amelie-shaped hole that sucked a bit of light from the room. Having Neely here reminded me of all the nights the three of us had spent together in hair and makeup, cutting up and gossiping. But I wasn’t ready to forgive her.

Given two months to grieve the loss of that friendship and mourn Boaz, I had reached a few conclusions I might have come to sooner if my head hadn’t gotten so tangled up with my heart.

I still loved Amelie like a sister. She had made poor choices, a lot of them. She lied to me, betrayed me, and manipulated me. But Atramentous had given me perspective unique to people who had lived without hope, without light, and I sympathized with the fractured person she helped Ambrose create.

And I still loved Boaz. Part of me would always belong to him, to our rose-colored past. Idolizing the hot boy next door felt more like a teenage rite of passage in hindsight. But I had never gotten the chance to be in love with him. His betrayal robbed me of that experience. Or spared me from it. These days, I was leaning toward the latter more than the former.

Figuring all that out eased the strain on my head, but I was still peppered with bruises on my heart.

Lost in thought, my turn was up before I could appreciate the magic Neely worked on Lethe.

“You’re making my job hard,” Neely said, guiding me to my chair. “The Virgin Vixen look is tricky.”

We had nicknamed the dress Virgin Vixen for the suggestive cut made in the pure-white fabric.

“I trust you.” I reeled in my thoughts. “You’ve never steered me wrong.”

A knock on the kitchen doorway drew my eye to where Linus stood with a wrapped parcel in his hands.

“Hey.” I slid away from Neely to greet him. “You didn’t change your mind about the shirt, did you?”

At least he would get this one back with all its buttons intact. Probably. Maybe?

“No.” He ducked his head. “Keep it. It looks better on you.”

“What’s up?” I hooked my thumb toward my friend. “Neely’s waiting on me.”

“I brought this for you.” He thrust the box out at me. “It’s customary to give the hostess a gift.”

“You’re practically the cohost.” I fingered the ribbon on top. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I enjoy it,” he said softly. “Selecting gifts is easier than choosing the right words.”

Crushing the box against my chest, I angled my head toward him. “You have something to say?”

“I…” He glanced past my shoulder. “We have an audience.”

The guilty parties didn’t look very shamefaced if you asked me. Both of them smiled when I caught them staring. Turning back to Linus, I crinkled the paper. “Does that mean I should open it later?”

“I believe you might react better if I’m here to mitigate the damage.”

“Oh no.” I held the box out, shook it. “What did you do?”

The twinkle in his eyes—full navy without a hint of black—said clearly, There’s only one way to find out.

Paper tore under my seeking fingers as I ripped into the lovely packaging. The ribbon hit the floor, and I pried open the corner of the box. Cool fabric kissed my knuckles, and cold stones chilled my skin. “No.”

He took the box from me, snapped the tape securing the sides, and held it out after removing the lid.

A silk belt the exact color of wet blood pooled on a bed of delicate black tissue paper. Four inches thick at its widest point, with rubies larger than my thumbnail studding its length, it was a masterpiece.

Pretty sure my brain sizzled. I definitely smelled smoke.

“I can’t accept this.” That didn’t stop me from petting it. “Unless… Is it paste?”

Wearing fake jewels at my own ball would earn me upturned noses from the High Society, but this was too much. Even for him.

“It’s on loan.” He pressed the box into my hands, firmer this time. “It didn’t cost me a thing, and it won’t unless I can’t return it in the same condition as I borrowed it in.” He beat me to the punch. “And no, I didn’t borrow it from Mother. Odette called me up out of the blue and offered this piece from her collection, so you should really thank her.”

Twirling, I set the box on the counter then let out a whoop before flinging myself at Linus.

“I see your early-warning system has been repaired,” he said against my throat, his cool lips giving me tingles as he wrapped his arms around me.

“You get me.” I kissed his cheek. “Better than I do most of the time.”

I felt his smile against my neck when he said, “Save me a dance.”

“I’ll do that.”

“There are only two hours left before our reservation,” Cruz noted. “The time can’t be changed.”

Hearing the dismissal for what it was, Linus released me then backed out of the room.

“Wait,” I called after him as I dashed into the living room and scooped an envelope off the coffee table. “You can’t very well attend a ball without an invitation.”

“So I am invited.” A faint smile curved his lips. “I bought a mask, just in case, but I had started to wonder.”

“Aren’t you going to open it?” I scratched a nail over the flap. “Make sure I spelled your name right?”

Humoring me, Linus ripped into the envelope and withdrew his invitation.

A hard breath punched from his lungs when he recognized the design. “This is…unexpected.”

“I hope you don’t mind. I started to ask permission, but I was afraid you’d say no.”

“The idea was to choose an image that represents you,” he said, clearly puzzled. “Why this?”

“That tattoo gave me the strength to leave the house.” I linked my fingers, twisting my hands. “It gave me the confidence to go about my life without fear of Volkov or another Last Seed twisting me around their finger. It gives me a fighting chance. It keeps me me.”

“You honor me.” He cradled my cheek in his hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I pressed my lips to his palm. “I better go. Cruz is tapping his foot.”

Curling his fingers, Linus held on to the kiss. “I’ll see you soon.”

Lethe, who I expected to pounce upon my return, had made her exit while I was distracted.

However, Neely, eyes sparkling, welcomed me back to my seat. “I thought he was family.”

“He is…sort of.” I watched him go. “He’s my adoptive mom’s sister’s son.” I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Good.” He tweaked my nose. “You could use a challenge. Boaz was too easy.”

“Nothing about Boaz is easy.” A simple broken heart would mend. This…hole…I wasn’t sure how to fill it. “I mean, relationship-wise. Not sexually.”

“You naughty girl, whatever did you think I meant?”

“That he’s a man-whore.”

Neely got to work, combing and twisting. “Your words, not mine.”

The good thing about Boaz dumping me was—everyone saw it coming. There were no excuses to make. No sob stories to tell. No sympathies to wave away.

I was another of Boaz’s exes.

The most recent in a long line.

The end.

It was liberating, in a way, to be relieved of that burden.

“Ruby man.” Neely stuck the fifty billionth pin in my hair. “Is he your date?”

“Linus,” I corrected absently. “And no. I’m going stag.”

“He’s attending, though?”

“Yeah.” The family connection made that believable, so I ran with it. “He’ll be there.”

Neely made a thoughtful noise. “Is he bringing someone or…?”

“I asked him, okay?” Not to be my date-date, but to share the first dance. “He shot me down.”

“Why?” He squinted at me, tucking in flyaways. “He borrowed a small fortune for you to wear around your waist. That’s a statement piece as well as a statement.”

“Arriving together implies something he thinks I’m not ready to own.”

“He wants a relationship,” Neely surmised, “but he’s not sure you’re ready because of Boaz.”

“Maybe?”

Moving on to makeup, Neely clucked his tongue. “What is it with you and unrequited love?”

“He doesn’t love me,” I said too quickly.

“Mmm-hmm.”

Closing my eyes while he worked on my lids, I felt safer asking, “How can you tell when someone loves the real you and not the idea of you?”

“They see you at your lowest,” he said softly, pitching his voice so Cruz had no hope of overhearing, “and they don’t blink. They don’t offer you a hand up, they offer you a hand to hold while you rise on your own.”

The beautiful sentiment made me wonder which of them had rescued the other, and if they each thought they had been the one saved.

“Our families kind of hoped we’d end up together,” I admitted. “I didn’t know that until recently.”

“Let me guess. Now you feel duty-bound to shun him on principle?”

“No.” I caught myself before elbowing him in his newly healed ribs, but it was a near thing. “Not at all.”

“Look, I’m all for nonconformity.” A stern look hardened his features. “But there’s a difference in bucking tradition for your own sake, your own sanity, and cutting off your nose to spite your face.”

“I’m not sharpening any knives, if that’s what has you worried.”

“Love isn’t a straight path,” he advised. “You don’t know how twisted it will get until you try walking it.”

I puffed out my cheeks and exhaled, sending stray hairs fluttering in my face.

“Stop that.” He popped my thigh. “You’ll ruin your hair.”

“Ouch,” I yelped from shock more than pain. “That hurt.”

“Fashion is pain,” he singsonged, “and you look agonizing tonight.”

“I really hope you meant amazing.” Talking pulled the pins in my hair taut. Ow. Okay, he wasn’t kidding.

“I hope you chose comfortable shoes.” He stood back to admire his work. “Tonight, all the boys will be falling at your feet. You’re going to have to climb over them to get where you’re going. Might I advise something with tread?”

“You’re the one who sent me the shoe options. Are they comfortable?”

“Uh, no.” He chuckled. “They’ll do amazing things for your legs, if that helps.”

Recalling the height of those shoes, I had doubts. “Like break one?”

“Okay,” he said cheerfully, ignoring my whining tone. “Time for the big reveal.” He hefted up a handled mirror for me to see myself. “What do you think?”

“Oh. My. Goddess.” I jerked my gaze from my face back to his. “What have you done?”

“You like?” His smile grew. “I call it the Snow White look.”

Flawlessly pale skin dusted with shimmering powder made me sparkle under the lights. Dark lashes and heavy eyeliner defined my eyes, and the ombre eyeshadow effect—moving through the spectrum from whites to pinks to reds—made the color pop. Red stained my lips, giving me a bloody smile worthy of any High Society Dame.

Braids twisted through my hair, which he had scooped into an elegant updo, and small pins with crimson heads dotted the side of my head in a subtle wave.

“One day I’ll stop be astounded by what you can do, but that day is not today.”

Smug as I had ever seen him, he dug in his kit. “Let me see your hands.”

“I got the pearlescent white manicure, as instructed.” I flashed my nails at him. “I feel like an ice queen.”

“Hold still.” He brought out a bottle of rich crimson and swiped a single coat over each of my ring fingers. “There. Now that pops.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Thanks for noticing.”

“So modest,” Cruz mused from his corner, smiling in the way he only ever did for Neely.

“Tell a guy he can do anything often enough,” he chided, “and eventually he starts to believe it.”

“Take all the time you need getting there,” his husband rumbled. “I believe in you enough for the both of us.”

Neely melted into a puddle of goo at my feet. If the hearts in his eyes got any bigger, they might explode.

“I’ll let you get packed up,” I told Neely, sliding from my chair. “Lethe can help me with the dress.”

The puddle solidified a bit. “Are you sure?”

“Go enjoy your night out.” I slid my arms around his waist and squeezed a laugh out of him. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary.” He rubbed my back. “You know I live for these moments.”

“I meant for being my friend.” I pivoted to take in Cruz’s scowl at my manhandling of his husband. “Thanks for taking such good care of him. He deserves the very best, and that’s you. No one else could love him as much as you obviously do.”

A fraction of the tension forever present between us lessened, and Cruz inclined his head. “No argument here.”

“See you lovebirds later.” I scooped up the box with the belt and left the guys to pack and let themselves out while I hit the stairs. “Whoa.” I skidded to a halt on the landing seconds before smacking into Oscar. “Warn a girl.”

“You said we were going to hunt for the treasure map,” Oscar pouted. “It’s been weeks.”

“Sorry, kid.” I ruffled his hair. “I got wrapped up in this ball nonsense and forgot.”

Forgot my plans to forge a map for him to find, that is. At least I had bought enough glass gems and gold-toned coins to fill the small chest I planned on burying in the backyard. All I had to do now was set my plan into action.

“Tomorrow?” His bottom lip got impossibly plumper. “Please?”

“Tomorrow,” I promised. “Just let me get through tonight, and I’m all yours.”

Oscar vanished in the blink of an eye, and I continued on to my room.

Lethe beat me to it. Both the room and the dress bags. Her emerald gown shimmered over her curves. A high slit raced up each leg. Her panties would have flashed when she walked, if she had worn any, but I knew from our fitting she had opted out of those. Mostly to torment Hood, who had stuck around for the show that day. Her flats glittered where they peeked out from beneath her hem. I couldn’t help but notice her shoes were far more sensible than mine.

Neely had French braided her hair down the left side of her head and curled the ends within an inch of their lives. Her makeup was subtler than mine, but her eyes popped thanks to the heavy green and gold lids he painted on her.

The effect of our bold eye treatments would be stunning once the simple half masks went on.

“You look gorgeous,” I breathed. “Wow.”

“This will be the last time I get glammed up like this before I pop.” She grinned, smoothing her hand over her flat stomach. “Unless you plan on throwing another of these in the next seven months.”

“Try the next seven years.” I started unbuttoning my borrowed shirt. “Can you help me, or do you need to go?”

“Your boobs will fall out if I don’t help you.” She snickered. “We learned that at the fitting.”

“There’s nothing to fall out.” I had gained ten pounds, but none of that weight had seen fit to distribute itself into my breasts. As far as I could tell, it was all sticking to my hips. “The poor tailor. I didn’t mean to flash him.”

“You don’t have anything he hasn’t seen.”

“I barely have anything at all.”

“Do you want the honors?” She held up two flower-shaped nipple covers. It wasn’t a bra, but it would have to do. “Or do you want me to slap them on there for you?”

The last thing you wanted a woman with superstrength doing was slapping your boobs. “I’ve got it.”

She claimed the roll of fashion tape from the dresser while I applied the sticky latex.

Still feeling naked, I let the shirt hit the floor, careful not to snag my hair on the buttons. I stood there staring at the ceiling to avoid her eyes while she applied tape where the fabric of my gown draped from my nape to my hips before falling into sinuous panels that formed the skirt.

I would be revealing substantial amounts of cleavage through the navel-baring vee in the center as well as flashing side boob thanks to the dress’s halter-style design.

Once my front was sufficiently plastered in tape and silicone, Lethe collected my dress and let it pool on the floor. “Step in.”

I did as she instructed, as we had rehearsed, and the cool whisper of fabric tickled over my skin.

“Let’s secure the front so it doesn’t wrinkle.”

Aside from the single pearl button at my nape, glue and prayers held the dress in place.

Moving around to stand in front of me, Lethe pressed the edges of the fabric along the adhesive tracks. Pleated strips of material fanned out to cover my chest before narrowing at my waist. The dress was backless, so she applied more strips above my bony butt to keep me from flashing my dance partners.

“Open the box.” I rotated my upper body and bent down to test the staying power of my dress. “There’s one piece left.”

“Oh?” She removed the lid and sucked in a breath. “Oh.”

“Will it work?” I smoothed my hands over my hips. “We hadn’t planned on a belt.”

“We’ll make it work.” She carried it over and wrapped it around my waist, fastening it in the back. “I’ll tug the belt lower and reposition the dress higher. There. Done.” She snapped her fingers. “Almost forgot.” She tied on my white lace half mask. “Now you’re done.”

Hands spread to my sides, I awaited her assessment. “How do I look?”

“Not quite as beautiful as I do, but you’re a close second.”

Laughing, I shook out my hands, but nerves tingled in my fingertips. “I’ll take it.”

“Hey.” She crossed to me and gripped my shoulders. “You got this.”

“I hope you’re right.” I exhaled slowly. “I want my life back.”

“I want that for you too,” she said, but I heard her doubt it could ever be so simple again.

Woolly alerted me to Hood’s arrival before he knocked on the front door.

“Time to go.” Lethe checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror before tying on her sequined emerald half mask. “We have to secure the perimeter before the guests start arriving.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Alone in my room, I let my head fall back and imagined the tension draining from the soles of my feet.

The master hadn’t RSVPed, so there was still a chance he wouldn’t show. All this might be for nothing.

I had gotten a card back from the Marchands, which meant I would get my chance to meet my maternal grandmother and whoever else comprised her retinue. With Eloise still missing, I had low expectations on that front. Still, I had to try. I would pin on a smile like they were skeptics heckling me during a ghost tour and do my best to get them across The Point of Hey You Made It Back without either of us drawing blood.

While the master remained my primary concern, I couldn’t ignore the threat posed by the Marchands. If I could reach a peaceful resolution with either tonight, it would be worth the weeks of planning and hours of waxing, combing, and pinning to get here.

“Grier.”

“Coming.” I descended the stairs to a long wolf whistle. Hood—no, wait—that was Lethe. Her mate had eyes only for her. “Hood, you look dashing.”

He grunted in response.

“He ought to wear a tux every day.” Lethe petted his lapels. “I wonder if I can convince the Faraday to change their doorman dress code?”

Hood narrowed his eyes on her, but she kept stroking him into complacency.

A person was missing from our party, and I scanned the room to locate him. “Where’s Linus?”

“He went ahead.” Hood ripped his attention away from his mate. “Left about an hour ago.”

“We’re going to his house.” I shrugged like it didn’t matter. “It’s not like he needed me to show him the way.”

The dress, the hair, the makeup all felt so pointless all of a sudden. I wanted to claw it off and climb in pajamas. But this had never been about impressing Linus. This was a calculated gambit to draw my enemies into peace talks.

“I recognize that tone.” Hood grimaced. “I do not want to be Linus when you find him.”

“Tone?” I cocked an eyebrow. “What tone? There’s no tone.”

This time it was Hood who whistled, but it wasn’t of the Hey, looking good variety.

“Ignore him.” Lethe hooked her arm through mine. “Linus should have waited.”

“He’s not my date.” I let her lead me out to the van while I battled the impulse to kick gravel with my neck-breaker pumps. “He doesn’t have to phone in his movements to me.”

“You wanted to make a grand entrance. All girls do.” She peeked over her shoulder at Hood. “I ought to know.” She patted my arm. “Trust me, the best revenge is having a good time. Without him.”

A good time. At a ball. Not likely. “You’re saying my thirst for vengeance will go unquenched tonight?”

“It won’t be that bad.”

She had no idea. “It will be exactly that bad.”

“You’ll have to fake it, then.”

“That I can do.”

Trial by fire via the Haints meant I could smile through the cynics who contradicted every word out of my mouth, stay polite through the lushes who drunkenly pawed at me, and act serene through the entitled—irate at not seeing a ghost in the vein of Casper—yelling in my face for refunds.

But what I wouldn’t do was play games with Linus. As a pawn myself, I refused to set that board.