“Don’t listen to her,” Arden urged Iris. “You’re going to look a-mazing.”
“Like a gorgeous, reluctant sacrifice,” Selene piped in.
“Maybe we should ditch her before we get to the boutique,” Arden suggested.
“Nope. I’m coming. The last thing she needs is another man on her case about something. She needs someone to stand up for her.”
“Barnacles,” Arden said, grimacing.
“Yeah, I’m in trouble. My punishment is a million hours of media training.”
“As usual, I think Henry is overreacting,” Arden said. He gestured for the women to start walking, steering them back out of the park. “From what I’m hearing, people were really charmed by the silly puns. I believe the most liked comment under the video I saw was:‘Who knew mermaids were so adorable?’So, I think it’s fine.”
If Arden saw that, no doubt Henry had as well. Maybe he would change his mind about all the media training.
“Here we go,” Arden said. He pulled open the door to a boutique with blacked-out windows. “You,” he said to Selene. “Behave.”
“No,” she said, pushing past him and into the store.
Iris followed, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. With no natural sunlight, all the light was coming from several large, ancient, black candelabras, and long streams of red wax dripped down the center columns.
“How are we supposed to shop for dresses in thedark?” Iris whispered to Arden. Her gaze took in the lush black velvet curtains and the extravagant arrangements of blood-red roses.
“My sweet, innocent sea princess,” Selene said, moving in close. “This is a vampire dress shop.”
“Really?” Iris asked. She wasn’t sure if the way her pulse skittered was excitement or fear.
“Indeed,” another voice joined them, arriving a half a second before the speaker herself.
Iris had begun to see that each type of paranormal had its own specific kind of beauty.
Witches, she felt, had a seductive, defiant kind of appeal.
Shifters had an untamed, golden-hour beauty. It was wild around the edges—fierce and majestic.
Demons, Arden included, had that wicked beauty. Sinful by design. All temptation and teeth.
And the fae, well, they had an ethereal beauty. Like a dream that didn’t want to let go.
This was her first up-close-and-personal interaction with a vampire.
But her immediate thought was they had a cold, sculpted kind of beauty—polished, practiced,timeless.
This vampire had flowing red hair spilling over the shoulders of her crushed velvet black gown that hugged each of her dangerous curves.
Her face was all sharp cheekbones, pale skin, and keen blue eyes.
“Arden,” she purred. She made her way over toward the demon. She pressed her body to his. A little too close, a tad too intimate, for a quick peck on each cheek. “How long has it been? Fifty years?”
“Carm,” Arden greeted her. “At least seventy-five,” he said. “We were at the opera. You were in the opposite balcony, on your knees, feasting from the femoral vein of one of the actresses.”
“I remember her. Bouncy brown hair. Big, golden eyes. She was delicious.”
Iris didn’t realize that her face had betrayed her, until the vampire’s gaze slid in her direction, a sly smile toying at her lips.
“Just a taste, not a full meal. In the good old days,” she went on. “Before the bite cards.”
“You can’t blame humans for wanting protection,” Selene—always the one to defend others—said.
