“What’s the deal with your bookends?” he asked once the door shut behind him and his rolling bag. “They look like bodyguards.” His eyes rounded. “Are they bodyguards?”
I winced and told a half-truth. “The guy I’m dating is overprotective.”
And the vamps, after my screaming episode, had refused to budge from their posts during Neely’s visit. They were already dead. It wouldn’t have killed them to hide in the bushes for a couple of hours.
“Are we talking celebrity protective? Political-figure protective?” He glanced over his shoulder like he could still feel their eyes on him. “Or are we talking mob protective?” He lowered his voice. “Do you need help? Tug your earlobe once for yes and twice for no.”
“Neely.” I burst out laughing. “Danill Volkov is a lot of things, but a mob boss is not one of them.” I twisted the truth, an ugly necessity around humans, yet again. “A strange man was spotted on my property after our first date. Considering who he is, he’s concerned for my safety is all.”
“Volkov?” he squeaked, dropping his bag’s handle and grabbing me by the shoulders. He shook me until my eyes rattled. “Are you insane? Volkov House is a shrine to that family’s obsession to acquire what they want at any price. And that was just a charred pile of lumber.”
Chills blasted up my arms for reasons I couldn’t pinpoint. I was aware of the house’s bloody history, and I had an inkling of Volkov’s clout, though it would help if I could access Woolly’s basement to get at the library, but Neely’s perceptiveness had switched on a light in my head that wouldn’t fade anytime soon.
Before I wrapped my mouth around a defense of Volkov’s honor, Woolly chimed again. This time there was a trill of excitement in the sound I hoped Neely would blame on bad wiring.
“Hold that thought.” I scrambled to the front door, half-expecting to find one of the siblings Pritchard, but a third vampire stood on the porch wearing a familiar jaunty hat with a garment bag slung over his shoulder. It’s official. Woolworth House is infested. “Hi. Can I help you?”
“Mr. Volkov sends his regards, miss.” He slid the bag down his arm then offered it to me. “And this.”
“What is…?” Through the peephole near the zipper, I spied silky blue fabric. “He bought me a dress?”
“Apologies, miss, if this seems too forward.” He extended his arms farther, careful not to reach across the threshold. “The invitations went out late by the usual standards, and he worried you might not have had an opportunity to shop for the occasion.”
Or the funds for a dress as extravagant as my former rank required. None of the gowns in my closet still fit. Not even a corset could save me. Borrowing from Amelie had been my only option, but the simple cut and serviceable materials were the Low Society equivalent of a uniform, albeit a lovely one, and I would have stood out like a sore thumb amid the High Society glam.
With one thoughtful gesture, Volkov had spared me from cutting remarks hidden behind jewel-encrusted hands and mocking laughter they wouldn’t have bothered to hide at all. I didn’t want to like him for it, not when I knew he had an agenda where I was concerned, but I appreciated his thoughtfulness all the same.
“Tell Mr. Volkov I appreciate his generosity.” I accepted the bag before the driver could drape it over my shoulder to be rid of its responsibility. “I look forward to seeing him tonight.”
The driver executed a tight bow, turned on his heel and left.
I shut the door and bounced off Neely’s chest. The little eavesdropper.
“He bought you a dress.” Neely snatched the bag and hung it on a coat hook. “You don’t find him dressing you a tad bit, oh, I don’t know, possessive? Have you ever watched Pretty Woman?”
“I’m broke, not a hooker.” I shouldered him aside and glided down the zipper. “Volkov is saving me from embarrassing myself—and him—by showing up in hand-me-downs.”
A clatter drew my eye to the kitchen. Amelie stood there with a rose from my garden in one hand, its petals the same pink as the dress she’d loaned me, and one strappy shoe dangled from the other. Its mate must have slipped through her fingers when I insulted her generosity.
“Guess you won’t be needing these.” Voice tight, she tossed the rose on the coffee table and collected the fallen shoe. “I’ll be around later in case you want to talk when you get home.”
“Amelie…” I reached for her, but she bolted, the door slamming behind her. “I didn’t realize she was there.”
“She knocked on the back door while you were talking to the driver. I didn’t think you’d mind if I let her in.” He crossed the room and lifted the rose to his face. “She took the back way around so she could trim a boutonniere for your date.”
I hung my head as shame washed through me. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
The difference in our classes had never mattered to me. I didn’t mind the dress so much as I hated that I couldn’t provide for myself, let alone on the level I had grown accustomed to as Maud’s heir. Borrowing reminded me of all I had lost, but this… There was no excuse for hurting Amelie. None.
Maybe I had lied to Volkov if all it took was a handful of sequins to show me Atramentous hadn’t cured me of my vanity after all.
“She’s your best friend.” Neely returned to me and tapped me on the nose with the silky rosebud. “She’ll forgive you. Just don’t give her time to stew, and make sure you take her up on her offer.”
“I will,” I promised, staring out the windows at the rear of the house like I might catch a glimpse of her.
“Let’s see this dress.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “We have two hours to get you ready for your date, and I don’t even know what I’m working with yet.”
“You do the honors.” The unveiling didn’t seem as enticing as it had a minute ago.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He plunged his hands into the open bag and hauled the dress out with one smooth flip of his wrists. Silver and gold beadwork studded the sleeveless top portion, which rose in an elegant high collar while the royal-blue skirt flared in filmy layers. A matching silk wrap draped the left shoulder. The breath he sucked in mirrored mine, and he cackled at a note pinned to the bodice. “I believe this is for you.”
“Red is my favorite color,” I read aloud, “but blue reminds me of the night we met.”
“Aww. That’s so sweet,” Neely cooed as he lifted out a silver evening bag. “Maybe Grill should be a thing.”
“Grill?”
“Grier and Danill?” He rolled his hand. “Honestly, it’s like you know nothing about fandom.”
“Five minutes ago, you were telling me crazy is hereditary, and now you’re shipping us?”
“Crazy is hereditary.” He held up a finger. “But look what I found in the bottom of the bag.”
“Oh.” My fingers curled to touch the strappy silver kitten heels. “Those are nice.”
“Nice? Nice?” He wiped his thumb across my bottom lip. “Sorry, you had a speck of drool there.”
I batted his hand away with a snort. “Okay, so I have a weakness for strappy shoes with sensible heels.”
“And I have a weakness for men who put their credit cards where their mouths are.”
A fresh shiver zinged through me. Thinking about Volkov’s mouth gave me chills, and I wasn’t sure they were the good kind. Amelie bit me once after I stole the last cupcake at her seventh birthday party, and I cried for hours. How much worse would full-grown fangs be? And then there was the sucking…
“Come on.” Taking my hand, he hauled me into the downstairs bathroom to get started. “Let’s tame that bird’s nest you call hair.”