“Fair enough.” She stepped into the room. “Do you want help with your hair?”
With careful fingers, she used a curling iron to put some life into my pin-straight platinum locks while I finished putting on my make-up. As she worked, I caught sight of the tattooed bracelet again and met her eyes in the mirror. “What do you do here?”
Her anxiety was almost palpable, but after a moment she relented. “I was hired as a household assistant. So, laundry, shopping, answering the phone. Busy work, most of it. Now that you’re back, I’m supposed to be your assistant. Get you what you need and …”
She trained off, so I filled in the blanks, “Keep an eye on me?”
Jupiter cringed but nodded. “It seems that way. After you left his office—”
“Correction,” I interjected, holding up a finger. “Was dragged from.”
“Well … yes. Uh, anyway, he called me in and told me that I was to help you get ready for the gala and told me where to find the dress your aunt sent for you.”
“AKA you’re my shadow from now on.”
Jupiter frowned and teased out a tangled lock. “Could be worse, right?”
“Yeah,” I scoffed and thumbed over my shoulder. “He could have offered the job to the oversized brute out there.”
“Jerrod,” Jupiter said, scowling.
“Not a fan?”
“No one is.”
“Good to know.” I leaned back and closed my eyes, indulging for a moment. I loved having my hair done. Back in Beechwood Harbor, I’d had trouble finding a salon that fit my nocturnal schedule. I couldn’t risk going into the Seattle Haven, the closest supernatural community, out of fear someone would recognize me. Eventually, I found a small group of other female vampires and we became friends. We’d taken turns doing each other’s hair and makeup. It was almost like finally having the high school years I’d missed out on.
“Seems like there are quite a few new faces around here,” I said, opening my eyes again.
Jupiter nodded. “Most of the remaining houses have been taking on more staff to help provide jobs. That was at your father’s command, actually.”
“What do you mean, remaining houses?”
She paused, holding the curling iron out to one side. “Gemma hasn’t told you?”
“She’s mentioned some shake-ups, I guess.”
“It started last summer. The Lowells moved to the west coast. The entire DeMarco family moved south. The Quills went to Europe.”
“Wow.” Some of those families were fixtures, members of the Court for as long as I could remember. What was driving them away? And why was my father obsessing over me producing an eventual heir if his Court was crumbling? Weren’t there more productive things he could do to solve the problem? How was dragging me home and humiliating me for their amusement going to solve anything?
Jupiter paused and dug around in the bathroom drawers until she found some hair pins that I’d stored there before I left. For all his railing against me, I found it odd that my father had left my childhood room preserved in the same order I’d left it in. Nothing appeared to have been touched, except to be dusted and cleaned. The linens were fresh, likely cycled out after I left, but everything else was the same.
Clenching three pins between her front teeth, Jupiter went to work on crafting the new curls into an elegant updo. “After you left, the Gowen family … well, they were understandably angry that you backed out of the wedding. You father had to give up a pretty good sized chunk of his own territory to convince them to stay. Others decided that was the final straw and left.”
I winced. The Gowens were on me, but the rest? Well, it wasn’t on my head that everyone moved on to greener pastures. If the only thing he had to offer the members of the Court was his eligible daughter, then he’d gone off the rails somewhere along the line. I wasn’t going to claim responsibility for that part of the mess.
After applying my eyeshadow and mascara, I studied Jupiter’s profile in the mirror as she worked. “What made you stay?”
Jupiter paused, concentrating on placing the last pin. Her brown eyes lifted, meeting mine in the mirror once more. “I’ve been … seeing someone.”
My lips curved into a smile. Finally, something worth talking about!
“Who is it?”
“Stop bouncing!” she insisted, planting her hands on my shoulders and forcing me back to the chair before the vanity. “You’ll mess up all my hard work.”
I settled but couldn’t stop smiling. Jupiter deserved a happily ever after. The tattoo encircling her wrist meant she would be part of House Vaughn for the rest of her life—which, theoretically would last forever, she was a vampire after all—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some semblance of a life outside these walls.
“What do you think?” Jupiter asked, fussing with the last few strands of hair. “Should I spray it?”
“You’re changing the subject,” I noted. “But yes, go for it.”
She refused to answer any of my questions about her mystery amour and after getting hosed down with half a can of hairspray, I gave up on my interrogation and went into the bedroom to slip into the beautiful gown. Jupiter helped with the back zipper and I consulted myself in the mirror. As much as I wished for something else to tease, pluck, or arrange, there wasn’t anything left to do.
At the end of the hall, a grandfather clock broke the silence. The sound was muffled, but clear enough to make out eight distinct chimes.
The brief levity drained away and I dragged in a long, ragged breath. “Guess it’s showtime.”
Chapter 3
It there was a hell, I was convinced it would be difficult to distinguish from a formal vampire gala. Judging by the looks on the faces around me, I was alone in my theory. Musicians wrapped the ballroom in a spirited waltz. Laughter rang out above the strings as vampires gathered in small pockets, smiling and drinking together, pearlescent teeth flashing from behind blood-stained lips. Elegant couples who waltzed so well it was like watching a sea of extras from a dance-themed film filled the central dance floor.
Wasn’t that precious.
There was a time when I’d enjoyed the gala nights. Though, it was hard to remember why as I stood on a dais, overlooking the scene. How could I have been so naive as to not see these parties for what they really were—a power move to earn favor and good will? My father was a master at it. Granted, he’d had a few hundred years of practice. At thirty-two, I was a young bornling. A fact my father never forgot to point out when I questioned his governance. He always told me I would learn in time.
A bittersweet smile graced my lips as I thought about the last gala I’d attended.
Nearly six years ago, the Court had gathered on a night like this to celebrate the anniversary of my father’s rule. The barons of the other courts attended, bringing some of their best vampires. Melanie and I spent all afternoon in her bathroom getting glammed up for the big event. She was older than me by twenty years, though no one could tell by looking at us.
Bornlings were gifted with the ability to control aging. We grew from babies, just as any human would, but at some point in our twenties, the aging process froze in time. With conscious effort, we were able to age ourselves. Advancing from youth to lower middle age was usually a rite of passage for a mother and father when they had their own bornling. Our mother, Athena, had resisted aging herself but when I reached my late teens, our father somehow convinced her that the time was past for her to continue trying to look like our sister instead of our mother.