“Now the light hits you perfectly.”
With three large steps back, he lined up his shot and took it.
“Ow, ow! Look at you, Embry Woodcross!” exclaimed Ames, coming around the back of the stadium with Oakley, newly placed tiaras glittering merrily with every step. All three friends were wearing the same cherry lipstick shade from Embry’s extensive collection. What’s more, Oakley did not bring her ever-present backpack and completely unravel the whole look—not that she didn’t try. It was like her security blanket or something, but they eventually convinced her to leave it in her room. “Homecoming royalty, made to order!”
They looked exceptional in the dresses they’d picked from Atelier Aradia. Ames in an above-the-knee, rose-pink A-line dress, more sophisticated than sweet against the caramel brown of her skin. Meanwhile, the designers had surprised Oakley with a mock-1940s gown inspired by photographs they’d found of Hannah Crawford, aka the last vampire to attend Raven’s Head, in the school’s archives. The woman was all Hedy Lamarr glamour, and the resulting dress was a V-neck cap sleeve with a tea-length skirt in ruby silk.
Embry had paid for Oakley’s dress out of her own pocket, given the vampire had been so stunned by the final price that she’d dropped the to-go cup of blood she’d been holding and inadvertently turned Embry into a live installation of that big scene inCarrie. It was bound to happen with the way Oakley was flaunting her blood drinking these days, Embry supposed, even if thetiming and setting combined to be absolutely undesirable. Thank goodness for Embry’s patented magical stain remover. Well, and Daddy’s credit card.
“I promise I won’t douse your gown in blood when I accept my crown,” Oakley assured Embry as the pair stepped in for air-kisses.
Embry swallowed down a grimace as she went through the motions of greeting Oakley. Ever since the court announcements, the vampire had doubled down on her recurring “joke” that she was going to win. Combine that with a pointed reminder of the mess they’d made in the dress shop in front of witches she’d known her whole life and… well, Embry was ready to retire both narratives after Oakley’s inevitable loss at the dance tomorrow night.
She smiled tightly. “I’m covered head-to-toe in a stain repellent spell. Try me.”
“Good Goddess, don’t give anyone a challenge,” Ames whispered, eyes rolling toward the other end of the wall where Skye and a siren, aptly named Ariel, were striding in. Then, she raised her voice. “Ryszard,” Ames called, “document ourgorgeousity, will you?”
“That’s not a word, Amethyst,” Rye deadpanned.
She waved him off. “We’re too beautiful for words. Out here creating new ones! Take our picture before the boys get here and ruin it.”
“I don’t know,” Embry said, catching sight of three dark suits in the distance. “I think they make us look better.”
“Only because they highlight our beauty.”
Apparently, they immediately found just the right light because instead of adjusting them, Rye snapped away without hesitation. Past Rye’s lens, Alistair, Fairfax, and Balthazar approached. All three wore identical tiaras in their hair—Raven’s Head royalty must, no matter the nominee’s gender.
Embry’s attention immediately set on Balthazar. His dark hairwas pomaded back in a neat Clark Kent way, the brilliant blue of his eyes sparkling as much as the faux diamonds atop his head as they met hers. His lips dropped open as if he’d remembered something, and then he produced a small box from his pocket.
“Hey, Princess,” he said, and Embry felt the entire scene fall away. It was as if they were under the same spotlight on the stage, the rest of the world dark and unimportant. “I thought this might go nicely with your dress.”
Embry opened the box. A stunning string of petite white orchids lay on a cushion, as delicate as spun sugar. It was a day early for a corsage, but considering it was their little signal that she was his for the dance, Embry was thrilled.
Mouth suddenly very dry, Embry swallowed and whispered, “It’s stunning.”
Balthazar cradled her wrist and smoothly clasped the corsage so that the flowers draped like the most beautiful of bracelets. She hadn’t expected boring carnations from a guy like him, but she also hadn’t expected this or for him to lean in as if they were already slow dancing across the ballroom in Old Main and say, “So are you, Princess.”
For the first time in her life, Embry’s knees wobbled. She turned her head, looking into Balthazar’s heavy-lidded eyes, wondering if he’d catch her if she actually swooned—
“I can get a photo of all six of you if you line up,” Rye offered out of nowhere, taking a crowbar to her quiet world for two. The spotlight faded, and Embry blinked, realizing they were surrounded by their friends. And Rye.
“Oh,” Embry stumbled, finding her words, “yeah, let’s—”
“That’s going to have to wait, because they’re about to call our names,” Skye yelled from the end of the stadium wall, the sodium lights from the field making sallow work of her face. Though technically magic-infused, the lights, field, and everything elsewere made to look “normal” for the rare occasion when nonmagical schools came to play at a rival they simply knew as Raven’s Head School. The homecoming opponent was always a Table-sanctioned institution, though. It made everyone more comfortable as they celebrated.
And Skye was all about celebrating. The senior class president clapped her hands so hard her considerable boobs shook—which was when Embry realized she was wearing her powder-puff uniform instead of a gown. “Places, people!”
The next several minutes descended like a swarm of bees—blurry, loud, and directed by a mind of its own. As members of the royalty, they’d been paired off in alphabetical order, which meant Wolverton and Woodcross were the caboose.
Embry carefully minded her new corsage while folding her elbow in Skye’s and following the procession of couples around the corner of the stadium, across the track, and to a stage erected at the fifty-yard line. On the way, they passed Mr. Heston, standingreallyclose to Miss Persephone, the edges of his glossy wings mingling with her long brown hair.Huh.
Finding her seat on the stage, Embry looked out into the crowd, locating Daddy in the headmaster’s box with other Raven’s Head dignitaries. He waved at her with a large slice of pizza clutched in his fist like a pennant flag. While that was a very clever way to get her attention, Embry really hoped it was his first and only slice.
“Let’s hear it for this year’s homecoming court!” Headmaster Martinelli cheered into a microphone. Merlin the hawk blinked wearily on her forearm. “Aren’t they wonderful?”
The crowd clapped appropriately. Embry saw Rye slinking closer, camera poised. As the applause died, the headmaster clapped her hands together so forcefully that Merlin nearly took off. “Now, we have a surprise for all of you—and for you, my fellow friends on stage.”
Martinelli turned and smiled widely to the court. And maybe it was her imagination, but Embry was certain the headmaster’s gaze lingered a beat longer on Skye, seated just to her right. Embry’s eyes bounced from Fairfax to Oakley to Balthazar for a clue as to if this was some sort of social committee to-do but got nothing out of any of them. Ames’s brows were furrowed, and it was clear she perhaps wished she hadn’t ditched the committee after a single meeting.
