He nodded. “I’ll be back in an hour. Wash up before dinner.”
As soon as he was out the door, I locked it, fuming. I hated that I needed him, hated trying to stay in his good graces, hated that my brother’s life was at stake.
I ran a bath and washed. The enormous tub felt so luxurious compared to what I was used to, but I couldn’t shake my discomfort being here, feeling vulnerable. Then I changed into my clean clothes.
And then I was alone, in a strange place, in a stranger city. I put my few things away, just for something to do, and stared out the window, and realized maybe I’d made a mistake by insisting on being on my own.
There was a knock on the door, and as soon as I made the faintest sound in response, it was thrown open. So much for the lock.
Anayla came in, accompanied by a tall, glamorous Fae. She was unnaturally slender, as if the Fae didn’t need several bodily organs mortals found essential, with long thin ears that jutted from flowing purple hair. I took a stutter-step back, then remembered the window was behind me and put the wall against my back.
“Is she afraid of Fae?” the beautiful Fae asked with a frown, turning to Anayla. “Fearful mortals are so tiresome.”
“Cara is not afraid of anything,” Anayla said, which was patently untrue and pretty remarkable given she’d flown next to me today. She gave me a loyal smile that I didn’t deserve, given that I was still fantasizing about killing her clan leader.
“Who are you?” I asked the Fae. I’d already had my magic stolen; what would Fae want with me now?
“I’m here to make you over,” the Fae said magnanimously. “And Anayla brought you tea.”
Anayla set a tray down on the table. Delicious scents rose from it: tea and fresh-baked cookies, a plate of cut fruit, and a small bundle of flowers. Anayla took the flowers off the tray and put them on the nightstand, then huffed and bustled off to the bathroom. The next thing I knew, she was wiping the dust off every surface.
“A makeover?” I repeated.
“Do you want to look like this forever?” the Fae asked.
Anayla put up her hand to pause her. “Kami. Don’t be a jerk. She is beautiful.”
“For a mortal.”
“Fieran thinks she’s beautiful,” Anayla said, with a twinge of savageness in her voice.
Kami looked offended. “Fieran is a god among Fae. And he thinks this mortal is?—”
“Adorable,” Anayla finished for her, with evident satisfaction.
I didn’t want to be adorable. But I was ridiculously short compared to the two of them, so it seemed unlikely I was going to be anything but adorable at best.
“How exactly does a Fae makeover work? Is this like in the books?”
“The books.” Kami turned to Anayla with a delighted smile. “They write our ways into fairy tales, don’t they? Gods, mortals arehilarious.” To me, she said, “Are you excited?”
“Not at all.”
“Sit in the chair,” she said, dragging a chair over to the window. The sun was sinking low, so the light was fading. “Let me see what we’re working with.”
“She’s not going to do anything permanent,” Anayla reassured me. “It is like in the stories. She’ll make your skin look perfect, make your hair a little fuller—just a perfected version of yourself, really. Before you go among the Fae, you need to look…” She shrugged.
Kami opened her mouth, clearly prepared to supply all the adjectives which Anayla was too polite to use.
“Fine.” I cut in to save her the effort of insulting me. I didn’t hate the idea of looking less scrubby next to the Fae and dragon shifters.
Anayla and Maura looked both badass and effortlessly gorgeous. If I had to be a mortal among them—which still seemed like it had to be a mistake—at least I could be a mortal without acne scars.
I plopped into the chair. “Do whatever you want.”
Kami looked surprised and pleased. “I’m starting to like you better. Smile.”
I did.
