I hope he’s right. Because after what feels like a ludicrously short period of time, the night of the ball arrives.
* * *
I stare at myself in the mirror.
The dress is white tulle, so delicate it’s nearly transparent in the bodice, but with intricate pink flower appliqués providing coverage for my breasts. Below the waist, layers of ethereal fabric and further floral appliqués build into a voluminous, dramatic skirt.
“I look straight out of a fairy tale,” I murmur. Though the skirt is full, the sheer bodice shows far more skin than I’m used to. My back is entirely bare, and the tightly laced bodice has coaxed out some cleavage I wasn’t aware I had. “Though maybe risqué… Are you sure this isn’t too much?”
Lissa gives a distinctly unladylike snort from where she’s watching. “Trust me,” she says, “you don’t have to worry aboutthat. You look perfect.” I flush at the praise, especially from her. It’s hard to forget how brusque she was when we first met, but she’s softened over the last few days I’ve been here. “Now…” She leans forward, clasping her hands together. “Can I do your makeup too? Please?”
I’m happy to agree, especially since I can’t remember the last time I touched a makeup brush. I’ve never been very good at it. Lissa grumbles as I wrinkle my nose at the tickling sensation. My eyes water every time she comes near them with a pencil. But after a considerable amount of wrangling with my body’s aversion to her tools, Lissa spins me around to face the mirror, and I find myself gazing at a new version of myself.
I tilt my head slowly from side to side, admiring her work. I was afraid I’d look ridiculous in heavy makeup, but Lissa used a light touch. I don’t look unlike myself, just like a better version, my skin smooth and my face glowing. My cheekbones and lips shimmer, and white liner makes my eyes appear larger than life. My eyelids are brushed with blushing pink to match the rose appliqués on my dress. I look dreamy, ethereal.
“Correction:nowyou look straight out of a fairy tale,” Lissa says.
I smile, pushing my glasses up. I insisted on keeping them, despite Lissa trying to get me into contacts. “Thanks, Lissa. This is unreal.” But my smile fades the longer I look at myself in the mirror. “You and Benjamin have worked so hard to help me,” I say, a lump rising in my throat. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Or live up to their expectations.
Lissa pats my back in an approximation of a comforting gesture. “Aw, don’t get sappy on me now, Nora.” She leans in. “Plus, you know, this isn’t entirely out of the goodness of our hearts. Benjamindoesget a finder’s fee, and this helps build his business.”
I take a deep breath, and the lump recedes. “That does make me feel better.”
She grins. “I thought it might.” She reaches down to add the last touch to my outfit: a white-and-gold anatomical heart pin, which designates me as an unclaimed valentine. “Ready for the ball, then?”
I don’t think I’ll ever feel ready. But with Lissa’s help, I’m about as close as it’s possible to get.
Chapter Five
The Valentine’s Day Ball is styled like an indoor garden party. A carpet of rose petals leads down the stairs and into the ballroom, and more flowers twine over the railing and dangle from the chandeliers. I pause to pluck a bloom from the banister as we descend the staircase, bringing it to my nose. It’s honey-sweet, and soft as silk between my fingers.
The flowers are all real, and so are the trees that someone has transplanted indoors, their branches dripping with twinkling fairy lights. The ballroom is dim aside from that soft, golden illumination. It doesn’t quite reach the edges of the huge room, where whispers of fabric indicate movement I cannot see. Dancers in the center of the ballroom drift in and out of the light, visible and then gone; some disappear into the shadows and don’t emerge again.
I’m sure it’s intentional that the vampires can see everything in the room, but us humans cannot. It feels both playful and ominous, a sort of fairy-tale menace—don’t stray from the light.
Most humans get a glimpse of the vampire society through the media, but few ever get a chance to experience it like this. They may exist in the same world as us, but their small population exists almost entirely separately from us. Some might sayaboveus. Now it feels like I’m stepping intotheirworld, a place that feels ancient and secret, and it is both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
I cling tighter to Benjamin’s arm, suppressing a shiver, and turn my attention from the decorations to the partygoers. They teeter on the same edge between beautiful and sinister. Vampires and humans alike are draped in finery, and I quickly forget any concerns that my dress istoo muchwhen I see a woman wearing a sheer dress with real roses covering only her most private areas, and a man whose chiseled body is shirtless beneath a cape of pink and white carnations.
Everyone and everything here is so gorgeous, sointeresting. I would love to stand in a corner somewhere and watch the night unfold. But instead, Benjamin leads me into the heart of the crowd. I hold tight to him, fighting the urge to slink back against the wall. My shoulders keep curling inward, like I’m a turtle retreating into its shell; it takes determination to keep my head up and my back straight. I take out my blood card—a paper fan holding my tasting notes, the name of my chaperone, and six slots to sign up for drinking from me—and fan my face with it. But still I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, and the glances of vampires we pass remind me that they can hear it, too. I had time to adjust to being in a vampire’s presence during my week with Benjamin, but my adrenaline is still surging as I realize I’m surrounded by potential predators.
“You’re safe,” Benjamin says in a low voice. He pats my hand, and I realize I’m clutching him so hard, it must hurt. Or at least it would if he were human. “Take a moment, let yourself adapt to it.”
“I’m not sure I can,” I grit out through a fake smile as another vampire glances our way, giving me a once-over. What the hell am I doing here? What made me think I was in any way cut out for this?
“I promise you can, and you will. Just breathe.”
Benjamin leads me in a slow circle around the edges of the party, in and out of the shadowed recesses of the ballroom. By our second pass through, I finally feel like I’m no longer on the verge of passing out. But I’m still far from comfortable. Everywhere I look I see poise and beauty, gold and glamor. I feel more and more like a pigeon in the midst of peacocks. Drab in a way that people would normally overlook, but just makes me stand out more in a place like this.
Yet as time passes and nobody stares at me as though I’m the leper I feel like I am, I gradually relax.
“That’s it,” Benjamin says, smiling at me. “Do you think you’re ready to meet some potential patrons?”
My pulse leaps at the thought, my mouth immediately going dry again, but I force a wobbly smile. This is what I’m here for, after all. I’ve trained for it, I’m being paid for it. I don’t have much hope for finding a long-term patron, but I owe it to Benjamin to try.
And maybe… maybe I owe it to myself, as well.
“Let’s do this,” I say.
