My stalkerpire failed to put in his threatened appearance, but that likely had more to do with the two slabs of beef Volkov ordered to stand guard at my front door the rest of the night and into the next day than any change of heart. Neither male would meet my eyes, but when I checked on them before bed, they addressed me with a quiet reverence that unsettled me.

Apparently my value was a well-known commodity to everyone.

Except me.

Or, I had to allow, it was possible they merely protected that which their heritor deemed valuable. They might have done the same for any woman who found herself in Volkov’s crosshairs. How awkward that must make dating for him. I could stand the cage he’d lowered around me for now, until I got my answers at the inauguration, but I would suffocate beneath such precautions over time. Having known the inside of a cell intimately, I had promised myself never to return to one. No matter how well-intended the protection might be.

Plus, it was downright humiliating when the bodyguards stampeded up the stairs and bulldozed into my room at dusk after they heard me screaming in my sleep. Waking up to two vamps—fangs out—hissing at shadows in my room was almost worse than traversing the dark and twisting dreamscape of my mind.

Well, I had warned Volkov I was broken, right? Maybe evidence of exactly how shattered would send him running.

An all’s well chime rang out, and I fought a losing battle with a grin as my company arrived.

“Damn, girl. This is your house?” Neely gawked on the front porch. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” The porchlight near him flickered the tiniest bit as Woolly preened, and I cleared my throat loudly to remind her not to show off in front of our very human guest. “Come on in.”

“What’s the deal with your bookends?” he asked once the door shut behind him and his rolling bag. “They look like bodyguards.” His eyes rounded. “Are they bodyguards?”

I winced and told a half-truth. “The guy I’m dating is overprotective.”

And the vamps, after my screaming episode, had refused to budge from their posts during Neely’s visit. They were already dead. It wouldn’t have killed them to hide in the bushes for a couple of hours.

“Are we talking celebrity protective? Political-figure protective?” He glanced over his shoulder like he could still feel their eyes on him. “Or are we talking mob protective?” He lowered his voice. “Do you need help? Tug your earlobe once for yes and twice for no.”

“Neely.” I burst out laughing. “Danill Volkov is a lot of things, but a mob boss is not one of them.” I twisted the truth, an ugly necessity around humans, yet again. “A strange man was spotted on my property after our first date. Considering who he is, he’s concerned for my safety is all.”

“Volkov?” he squeaked, dropping his bag’s handle and grabbing me by the shoulders. He shook me until my eyes rattled. “Are you insane? Volkov House is a shrine to that family’s obsession to acquire what they want at any price. And that was just a charred pile of lumber.”

Chills blasted up my arms for reasons I couldn’t pinpoint. I was aware of the house’s bloody history, and I had an inkling of Volkov’s clout, though it would help if I could access Woolly’s basement to get at the library, but Neely’s perceptiveness had switched on a light in my head that wouldn’t fade anytime soon.

Before I wrapped my mouth around a defense of Volkov’s honor, Woolly chimed again. This time there was a trill of excitement in the sound I hoped Neely would blame on bad wiring.

“Hold that thought.” I scrambled to the front door, half-expecting to find one of the siblings Pritchard, but a third vampire stood on the porch wearing a familiar jaunty hat with a garment bag slung over his shoulder. It’s official. Woolworth House is infested. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Mr. Volkov sends his regards, miss.” He slid the bag down his arm then offered it to me. “And this.”

“What is…?” Through the peephole near the zipper, I spied silky blue fabric. “He bought me a dress?”

“Apologies, miss, if this seems too forward.” He extended his arms farther, careful not to reach across the threshold. “The invitations went out late by the usual standards, and he worried you might not have had an opportunity to shop for the occasion.”

Or the funds for a dress as extravagant as my former rank required. None of the gowns in my closet still fit. Not even a corset could save me. Borrowing from Amelie had been my only option, but the simple cut and serviceable materials were the Low Society equivalent of a uniform, albeit a lovely one, and I would have stood out like a sore thumb amid the High Society glam.

With one thoughtful gesture, Volkov had spared me from cutting remarks hidden behind jewel-encrusted hands and mocking laughter they wouldn’t have bothered to hide at all. I didn’t want to like him for it, not when I knew he had an agenda where I was concerned, but I appreciated his thoughtfulness all the same.

“Tell Mr. Volkov I appreciate his generosity.” I accepted the bag before the driver could drape it over my shoulder to be rid of its responsibility. “I look forward to seeing him tonight.”

The driver executed a tight bow, turned on his heel and left.

I shut the door and bounced off Neely’s chest. The little eavesdropper.

“He bought you a dress.” Neely snatched the bag and hung it on a coat hook. “You don’t find him dressing you a tad bit, oh, I don’t know, possessive? Have you ever watched Pretty Woman?”

“I’m broke, not a hooker.” I shouldered him aside and glided down the zipper. “Volkov is saving me from embarrassing myself—and him—by showing up in hand-me-downs.”

A clatter drew my eye to the kitchen. Amelie stood there with a rose from my garden in one hand, its petals the same pink as the dress she’d loaned me, and one strappy shoe dangled from the other. Its mate must have slipped through her fingers when I insulted her generosity.

“Guess you won’t be needing these.” Voice tight, she tossed the rose on the coffee table and collected the fallen shoe. “I’ll be around later in case you want to talk when you get home.”

“Amelie…” I reached for her, but she bolted, the door slamming behind her. “I didn’t realize she was there.”

“She knocked on the back door while you were talking to the driver. I didn’t think you’d mind if I let her in.” He crossed the room and lifted the rose to his face. “She took the back way around so she could trim a boutonniere for your date.”

I hung my head as shame washed through me. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

The difference in our classes had never mattered to me. I didn’t mind the dress so much as I hated that I couldn’t provide for myself, let alone on the level I had grown accustomed to as Maud’s heir. Borrowing reminded me of all I had lost, but this… There was no excuse for hurting Amelie. None.

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.”

“An escort,” I corrected.

“I saw the—” he caught himself “—guards.”

“There was an incident the other night.” I kept it vague, knowing he would have leapt down my throat for keeping secrets if Neely hadn’t been acting as a buffer. “Mr. Volkov left me protection as a deterrent.”

“He did, did he.” The skin beneath his left eye ticked. “That’s him at the door?”

“Pretty sure,” I murmured, staring at my hands.

“I’ll let myself out the back. I wouldn’t want to ruin your grand entrance.” He nodded at Neely. “Nice meeting you.”

Another chime, a questioning note, rang out as Boaz stormed through the kitchen and into the garden.

“Chin up, sweetheart.” Neely draped the shawl around my shoulders then gathered his supplies and rolled them behind him into the living room as we approached the front door. “The rest of the night can’t go worse than this.”

Oh, if only that were true. This—this was just the first misstep in a night that promised a big fall.

What would Amelie think when she saw Boaz dressed to the nines with nowhere to go and no one to go there with? What had he been thinking showing up unannounced? What was he thinking now? He must have realized the dress came from Volkov. Did that have him wondering what else the heritor might have given me to sway me to his side?

Draped in opulent gifts from Volkov, I felt bought, owned, and the real fun hadn’t even started.