Pulling Henry closer to the assay building, out of harm’s way, Westie watched as the coach tilted and swayed like a drunken spider. It crushed watering troughs and anything else in its way until finally coming to a stop after hitting a beam outside the post office. The beam snapped in half, causing the awning to sag.
Westie’s mouth fell open as Isabelle stepped out of the coach, adjusting her skirts. She looked at Westie with a frown. “When did they put that beam in front of the post office?”
Westie swallowed back laughter. “When they built the town.”
Isabelle giggled. “Oops.”
“When did you get that?” Westie asked as she moved closer to get a better look at the coach.
There were brass levers and buttons all over the driver’s cabin. Children and small animals beware, Westie thought as she imagined Isabelle trying to figure out what they were all used for.
“My parents bought it for me when I told them your coming-out ball would be more extravagant than mine was.”
Westie had stayed at Isabelle’s coming-out party only long enough to prove she was there before disappearing into the servants’ quarters for a game of poker, but she did remember fireworks and the gaudy white coach drawn by a team of pure-white draft horses that brought Isabelle to the house. If Westie’s party was more extravagant than that, she’d have a bone to pick with Nigel.
“I was surprised to get your telegraph bird,” Isabelle said. She gazed at Alistair in the distance as though he were in her crosshairs. “You know that thing crashed right through my window, nearly frightened me half to death.”
Westie imagined Isabelle flailing her arms, her hair in curlers, and smiled.
“Sorry for the short notice.”
“Honestly, the bird wasn’t what shocked me the most. It was you being serious about wanting to go shopping for a dress. I don’t think I’ve ever known you to buy a single thing that didn’t have a blade. Does this mean Nigel finally told you about your party?”
“He told me.”
Westie mopped the sweat from her forehead, squinting against the light that filtered through the trees. Heat made opaque waves in the distance.
“Well, I’m glad you called on me. Shopping for a dress with the debutante will be so much fun!”
Westie sighed inwardly. “I reckon I ought to find a dress I like rather than that thing Nigel hung in my closet.”
“Don’t you think you’re cutting it a little close to the party?”
Westie shrugged.
“Why did you have to bring him?” Isabelle hooked a thumb in Alistair’s direction.
“I didn’t. He followed me.” Both girls watched Alistair. A loose smile formed on Westie’s lips as he fidgeted in his saddle from the attention. Even at a distance she could see his forehead blush. His Irish skin always gave him away.
“His head seems better,” Isabelle said. “I take it the vampire blood worked.”
“Better than I could’ve imagined.”
Westie’s smile quickly faded when she saw Cain Fairfield strolling along the sidewalk across the street, browsing through store windows. Alistair tied his horse to a post and stepped up next to her.
“There’s Cain Fairfield,” Isabelle said.
“Sure is an ugly cuss, don’t you think?” Westie said, hoping that someone else’s low opinion of Cain might change Isabelle’s.
Isabelle shrugged. “Yes, but look how well he wears that jacket.”
Cain looked at them and tipped his hat. Westie stiffened. Isabelle smiled bashfully and waved a gloved hand at him.
Taking Isabelle by the elbow, Westie ushered her away from Cain before they were forced to talk to him. “Come on, we’ve got a dress to find.”
“I think I like this new you, talking boys and shopping. Does this mean I can stop pretending to care when you tell me about your new weapons?” Isabelle said with a teasing smile and a hop in her step.
“You’ve been acting this whole time?” Westie said, feigning shock. “Well, since we’re faking it, let’s pretend I want to be here shopping with you.”
Isabelle laughed, knocking her shoulder against Westie until they both nearly fell in the street.
For Westie, shopping with Isabelle Johansson proved more taxing than it was worth. The girl had introduced Westie to every clothing vendor new to Rogue City, including a succubus who offered to make Westie a beautiful gown made of human skin. With a polite “No, thank you,” the girls took off running.
Alistair caught up with Westie and Isabelle at the general store after lagging behind. He wore a black handkerchief, which made him look like a proper bandit.
When Isabelle went into the general store, Westie pulled Alistair to the side. “Why are you so eager to go shopping with us?” she said. “You fancy Isabelle?” She wished she could see his mouth, for his eyes gave nothing away.
A poster was glued to one of the gasolier posts outside the general store. Westie pulled it off and started nervously picking at its edges. The poster had a picture of President Pierce, with a reminder that harming creatures was illegal. Someone had drawn a profane sketch of a creature next to the president’s face and had written Creature lover beside it.