Christian arched an eyebrow. “That girl needs a speed limit.”
* * *
An hour later, I dropped my knives on the kitchen table for Shepherd to sharpen while I went upstairs and made myself presentable for public consumption. After years of living on the streets, it took time to get used to all the grooming involved when it came to attending a fancy-pants social function. Running a razor over my legs and curling my hair for a date was one thing, but the amount of time needed to lacquer my nails, pluck my brows, and apply makeup was something else entirely.
It irritated me. Here I was, decorating myself like a cake, while the men were probably hanging out in the game room after a five-minute shower and shave.
I finished pulling the laces on my dress and stood in front of the floor mirror. Lucky for us girls, we didn’t have to wear a kilt. The skirt had an irregular hem with several layers of different fabric, alternating between solid black and a deep purple tartan. The bodice that laced up in front was sexy, but it wasn’t an easy outfit to put on. I painted my nails as black as my hair, which fell past my shoulders in tousled waves, parted off-center.
Even though it was just a job, I couldn’t help but feel a little beautiful. I’d never been to prom or invited to a wedding, so there’d never been an occasion to dress up. Funny how something insignificant can transform a woman into a different person.
I also felt like a sausage too big for its skin in this tight dress.
A knock sounded at the door. I shied away from the mirror and crossed the room, pretending to be doing something at my desk. The sun had gone down, but there was plenty of light from all the candles in my room.
“Everyone’s ready,” Christian said. “I’m thinking about taking my bike.”
I peered over my shoulder and barked out a laugh. “That’ll be a breezy ride.”
Christian had on a long-sleeved black Henley shirt with the buttons undone so one of the flaps was hanging to the side. His kilt matched my dress—deep purple and black, but he didn’t have a satchel or whatever those things were that I’d seen in the front. Instead, a wide leather belt with silver studs held up his kilt.
“Nice socks,” I said. They were long and black, but not long enough to cover his knees. I barely noticed his black lace-up boots.
“The gents got the shaft with accessories,” he remarked, walking in and admiring himself in the mirror to the right of the door.
“You could have had matching socks.”
Christian ruffled the skirt in the front. “I will say one thing, I like the easy access.” He glanced over his shoulder. “For the weapons, I mean.”
“Sure.” I closed the distance between us, tugging at my bodice.
“You should see what the others have done. Wyatt’s wearing one of his ridiculous shirts, and Shepherd—” His words cut off when he caught my reflection in the mirror. Christian turned on his heel, his lips parted. “You look… fetching.”
“Since when is Christian Poe nice?”
“I just meant your Vampire side,” he quickly said. “So… you lookhalfnice.”
“That’s more like it. What’s under your skirt?”
He gave me a wolfish smile. “You’ll have to take a ride on my motorbike to find out.”
“No, thanks. Gem and I are going with Shepherd.”
He averted his eyes and looked around. “I see you’re settling in.”
I followed his gaze to the red blanket on my bed and grey painting with the red tree. “I keep meaning to ask Shepherd for his drill.”
“For what?” Christian strode over and lifted the picture with one hand. He took the nail off the side table and leaned over the bed before pressing the nail into the mortar with only his thumb. After straightening the painting, he put his hands in his pockets and stared at my bed.
I fiddled with the laces on the bodice, which covered my hips and stopped just below my breasts. The dress fabric above it had an off-the-shoulder style.
“Here, let me.” He closed the distance between us and ran his fingers between every section of lace, giving it a hard yank.
“I need it to be looser, not tighter.”
“Unless you want to come unraveled in the middle of a dance, I’m strapping you in.”
I looked at my mask on the bed. It matched the plaid design, embellished with glitter and adorned with black feathers over one eye. “Are the men wearing masks?”
