I scoff. “You’re not going.”
“I’m not going? Even Emory’s going.”
My jaw drops. “Crossing the barrier is risky. You both know that.”
“No,” Dallas replies. “Mama says since this is an official invitation, the king has granted all of us safe passage. We’re golden!”
I scoff in disbelief.
Dallas claps her hands with glee. “Besides, the barrier only stops nightmare magic from coming here. People cross when there's official business. It's just, no one's ever been invited before.”
I place a hand on my hip. “And what if that’s a lie? What if his plan is to lure us in and trap us, hook us up to some weird machine and give us nightmares until we die of fright?”
Emory’s eyes go wide. “You’ve certainly had a lot of time to think about this, haven’t you?”
I grab the stack of books and walk through the store, placing them back on their shelves as my sisters follow.
“No, I haven’t thought about it, but it makes sense. He stays on his side of the barrier. We stay on ours. That’s the way things are. Besides, have you ever heard of anyone going over unless they have business?”
“No,” Dallas admits glumly.
“Exactly.”
“But Chelsea, this is the perfect excuse to see what it’s like. We all know the stories—it’s eternally dark and deeply gothic in the best way ever.” Emory bats her lashes at me. “Please. You’ve got to come. It won’t be fun without you.”
I shove the last book into place. It hits the back of the bookshelf with a hard thud. “No, thank you. I’m not going to meet the Nightmare King. Not over my dead body.”
“I’ve got your dress all picked out,” Ovie says as she enters my room.
“For what?”
“For the ball at the Nightmare King’s manor.”
“I am not going,” I yell so loudly the bricks lining the wall tremble, clicking together. “Sorry, House. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Ovie lowers the dress in her hands and taps her foot. “Oh, you’re going to this ball. I might’ve canceled yours so youwouldn’t throw a temper tantrum in front of our guests, but this is a different one, and you’ll be there.”
“Who says?”
“I say,” a deep voice booms.
The walls rattle hard as the ghostly apparition of my grandmother sweeps into my bedroom.
Nana might be dead, but she’s still scary as fuck. Her white hair is pinned up, and the silver brocade dress she wears shimmers under the lights.
Her magic doesn’t work by the same rules as ours does. She’s more powerful now than when she was alive.
And House is afraid of her.
It usually rattles to warn us she’s coming.
“I did not return from the other side to watch my granddaughter throw away our family’s magic, and I sure as hell didn’t put on this dress so I could sit around the house all night and listen to it rattle.” She takes the gown Ovie’s holding and drops it into my arms. “So get ready. Now. We’re going to this ball whether you like it or not.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I drop my gaze in shame. Man, it sucks to be in your twenties and still be scolded by your grandmother.
And a dead one, at that.
I take a look at the dress—it’s soft pink with tulle lining the strapless bodice. A cascade of even more tulle covers the skirt. When I walk, I’ll ripple like water.
