skirt lift.
I blinked, my jaw going slack. I most definitely recognized her now. I’d met her during my first visit to Death’s Angel.
She was probably also the redhead who’d brought me here last night. But how did she… “An Illusion?” I asked.
“Like the Hermit?” She shook head and her appearance rippled again, changing back to the dark-haired woman who’d first entered the room. “I’m called the Chameleon. I’m a master soldier.”
She said it like that should mean something to me. I just stared at her. “Soldier?”
“A soldier vampire as opposed to a psychic vamp,” she said, and then, looking at my expression, laughed and shook her head. “Deary, you really are new. It’s a blood-line title. Us solider vamps are stronger, faster, and we can turn humans easier than you psychic vamps, but we don’t have the euphoric bite or the mental powers. Hasn’t the Hermit taught you anything ?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Well, don’t worry. Tatius will take good care of you. Now let’s get you in that dress.”
An hour later, I was fully dressed—in a manner of speaking—my hair was piled artfully atop my head, and Sam had attacked my face with half a dozen cosmetic brushes.
She stepped back, pursing her lips, but she nodded.
“That should do it, deary. Why don’t you take a look?” She pointed to the full-length mirror on the other side of the room.
I stumbled over, my ankles wobbling in the spike-heeled boots. When I reached the mirror, I scowled at the stranger inside. The corset was indeed a torture device, which Sam had pulled tight enough that I was lucky I didn’t actually need to breathe. It tugged my waist in, making my non-existent hips look rounder and pushing up my chest, exposing maximum amounts of my small cleavage. It could have been a good look. After all, the shiny black dress and thigh high boots transformed me into someone who’d belong on Tatius’s arm. But the woman in the mirror looked uncomfortable, fake.
I turned my back on the mirror.
Samantha stood several steps behind, admiring her handy work. “I think you’re ready. We should get you to Tatius.”
Of course. She walked out of the room. I started to follow, but as I reached the doorway, a tingle of magic rushed over my skin, and I froze. Oh no. Gil wouldn’t seriously show up here, would she?
An unmistakable pop sounded from further in the bedroom. Magic filled the air.
Dammit. Not now. I couldn’t let Samantha see Gil.
“I, uh, forgot something,” I said, grabbing the doorknob.
Samantha looked back over her shoulder. “Wha—”
“Be right back.” I jerked the bedroom door shut.
A fist pounded on the door from the other side. “Kita, what’s going on?”
The knob jiggled in my grasp. Crap.
I whirled around to face Gil and mouthed the words “Go. Get out.”
“Just five minutes,” the mage said. A bristly wave of magic washed over me, and I fell into blackness that wasn’t true darkness.
* * * *
I screamed. The darkness absorbed the sound before it could escape my throat. A moment? An eternity? I fell through the space between worlds. Or maybe I didn’t fall. But I sure as hell wasn’t standing. I hated the void. I was so going to hurt Gil.
I swallowed hard. I might hurt Gil, but if Tatius discovered I was gone, he would kill Nathanial. I’d bargained for Nathanial’s life with my cooperation. Tatius would definitely consider my disappearance as reneging on that promise. I couldn’t let that happen.
I had to get back to Death’s Angel.
I’d no sooner had the thought than the empty darkness shattered. Light and color exploded around me in a chaotic jumble. I saw stars, literally. Hundreds of pinpricks of light filled my vision.
I squeezed my eyes shut and doubled over as a wave of nausea slammed into me.
“Dammit, Gil. How much time passed?” I gasped the question. The world was too solid, too real after the void. But I couldn’t stay wherever she’d
I blinked, my jaw going slack. I most definitely recognized her now. I’d met her during my first visit to Death’s Angel.
She was probably also the redhead who’d brought me here last night. But how did she… “An Illusion?” I asked.
“Like the Hermit?” She shook head and her appearance rippled again, changing back to the dark-haired woman who’d first entered the room. “I’m called the Chameleon. I’m a master soldier.”
She said it like that should mean something to me. I just stared at her. “Soldier?”
“A soldier vampire as opposed to a psychic vamp,” she said, and then, looking at my expression, laughed and shook her head. “Deary, you really are new. It’s a blood-line title. Us solider vamps are stronger, faster, and we can turn humans easier than you psychic vamps, but we don’t have the euphoric bite or the mental powers. Hasn’t the Hermit taught you anything ?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Well, don’t worry. Tatius will take good care of you. Now let’s get you in that dress.”
An hour later, I was fully dressed—in a manner of speaking—my hair was piled artfully atop my head, and Sam had attacked my face with half a dozen cosmetic brushes.
She stepped back, pursing her lips, but she nodded.
“That should do it, deary. Why don’t you take a look?” She pointed to the full-length mirror on the other side of the room.
I stumbled over, my ankles wobbling in the spike-heeled boots. When I reached the mirror, I scowled at the stranger inside. The corset was indeed a torture device, which Sam had pulled tight enough that I was lucky I didn’t actually need to breathe. It tugged my waist in, making my non-existent hips look rounder and pushing up my chest, exposing maximum amounts of my small cleavage. It could have been a good look. After all, the shiny black dress and thigh high boots transformed me into someone who’d belong on Tatius’s arm. But the woman in the mirror looked uncomfortable, fake.
I turned my back on the mirror.
Samantha stood several steps behind, admiring her handy work. “I think you’re ready. We should get you to Tatius.”
Of course. She walked out of the room. I started to follow, but as I reached the doorway, a tingle of magic rushed over my skin, and I froze. Oh no. Gil wouldn’t seriously show up here, would she?
An unmistakable pop sounded from further in the bedroom. Magic filled the air.
Dammit. Not now. I couldn’t let Samantha see Gil.
“I, uh, forgot something,” I said, grabbing the doorknob.
Samantha looked back over her shoulder. “Wha—”
“Be right back.” I jerked the bedroom door shut.
A fist pounded on the door from the other side. “Kita, what’s going on?”
The knob jiggled in my grasp. Crap.
I whirled around to face Gil and mouthed the words “Go. Get out.”
“Just five minutes,” the mage said. A bristly wave of magic washed over me, and I fell into blackness that wasn’t true darkness.
* * * *
I screamed. The darkness absorbed the sound before it could escape my throat. A moment? An eternity? I fell through the space between worlds. Or maybe I didn’t fall. But I sure as hell wasn’t standing. I hated the void. I was so going to hurt Gil.
I swallowed hard. I might hurt Gil, but if Tatius discovered I was gone, he would kill Nathanial. I’d bargained for Nathanial’s life with my cooperation. Tatius would definitely consider my disappearance as reneging on that promise. I couldn’t let that happen.
I had to get back to Death’s Angel.
I’d no sooner had the thought than the empty darkness shattered. Light and color exploded around me in a chaotic jumble. I saw stars, literally. Hundreds of pinpricks of light filled my vision.
I squeezed my eyes shut and doubled over as a wave of nausea slammed into me.
“Dammit, Gil. How much time passed?” I gasped the question. The world was too solid, too real after the void. But I couldn’t stay wherever she’d
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