Darkangel by Christine Pope (red queen ebook TXT) 📕

“Lose that shawl,” Sydney commanded. “You’re inside now, so stop covering up.”

I’d forgotten I was still clutching the shawl around me. I did feel safer with it resting on my shoulders and hiding my chest, but I had a feeling Sydney would forcibly pull it off if I didn’t ditch it. So I unwrapped it and draped it over the back of the chair, then made myself look around me instead of down at the alarming amount of cleavage I was currently displaying.

“Satisfied?” I asked.

“Much better.” She shifted in her seat and tossed her hair back over her shoulders. I supposed if she were going for an authentic flapper look she would’ve pinned it up somehow to make it simulate a bob, but she was far more interested in looking sexy than being authentic.

She wasn’t the only one, either. I saw women in saloon girl costumes and sexy vampire costumes and sexy nurse uniforms and just about every permutation of “sexy” that you could think of. There were scary ones, too, of course…zombies and ghouls and aliens, as well as people dressed as characters from all kinds of movies, including a group of four ghostbusters, not to mention Beetlejuice and Batman.

Behind the costumes and masks I recognized members of the coven, of course, but there were a lot of strangers, too, and I relaxed a little. My worries about the McAllisters taking over the whole dance appeared to be unfounded. It was an eclectic crowd, too, in terms of age — you had to be over twenty-one to get in, of course, but I saw everything from people my own age up to men and women who had to be in their sixties. Good for them, too. Who says you have to stop partying just because you’re not in your twenties anymore?

Adam returned with the drinks. “Good thing I went early, too,” he said, “because that line’s just going to keep getting longer.”

“Well, one of us will get the second round,” Sydney said, taking her Bacardi and Diet Coke from him, then helping herself to a healthy swig.

He handed me mine before sitting down in the chair on my left. I would’ve preferred that he sit on the other side of Sydney, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen, especially with Anthony supposedly showing up later that night.

What difference does it really make? I asked myself with a mental sigh. It’s not as if your soulmate is going to come waltzing through those doors.

Which was depressing but probably true. I couldn’t really accuse Adam of cock-blocking when there probably wouldn’t be any cocks to block.

I drank some of my wine, and Adam took a swallow of his beer. Right then it was early enough that they were just playing canned music; the band wasn’t supposed to start until eight-thirty. I could see some of their roadies finishing up with running wires and that sort of thing, so it probably wouldn’t be too long before they got started.

Sydney’s eyes roved over the crowd, obviously taking stock of the cute-guy quotient, and I wondered how serious she really was about being with Anthony. That was kind of her pattern, though — go after someone, get hot and heavy quickly, and then have the whole thing collapse a few weeks or a month later, depending on how fast their quirks got on her nerves. It wasn’t as if she dated around, exactly…more like practiced serial monogamy on speed.

I’d been less than thrilled with my fate of having to wait for Mr. Perfect to show up on my doorstep, but I had to admit that it did have the benefit of keeping a lot of drama out of my life.

But not all, I thought then, trying to ignore Adam’s attempt at not looking at my cleavage. It probably would’ve been easier if I could have just told him I didn’t want him tagging along with us. I wasn’t that cold-hearted, though. Maybe someone would show up tonight who would distract him from his obsession with me.

That didn’t seem too likely, though; most of the girls our age in attendance seemed to be either with a date or hanging out in groups of four or five, which would make approaching them difficult for someone like Adam. He was easy enough with me, but we’d known each other all our lives. Going up to a strange girl and asking her to dance probably was not in his cards that night.

Although the band hadn’t started yet, the music was still loud enough that it made talking difficult. I sipped my wine, noting how the table just behind ours was populated entirely with members of my “bodyguard” group: Wyatt McAllister, Margot Emory, Henry Lynch, my cousin Rosemary. There were two seats empty, and I wondered if they were saving those for Aunt Rachel and Tobias. I doubted that their position was accidental, either. Yes, I was supposedly in a safe place, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to keep an eye on me.

“I hope Anthony will be able to get in,” Sydney said loudly as she eyed the rapidly filling hall.

That could be a problem, because I’d heard they closed the doors after the building reached capacity. “Do you want me to go say something? That’s my cousin Shelby at the door — I know she’ll squeeze Anthony in if I ask.”

“Would you? It would really suck if he drove up here and couldn’t even get inside.”

“No problem.” I pushed out my chair and stood. At once Adam’s eyes were on me, obviously curious, and I pointed at the front door. “Just want to tell Shelby something.”

He nodded, seeming to relax a little. What did he think I was going to do, take off because I was already tired of him pretending to not stare at my chest?

On second thought….

I pushed back a smile and wove through the crowd to get to the door. Once there, I explained the situation to my cousin.

“Sure,” she said, taking a twenty-dollar bill from a guy dressed as Gomez Addams. The Morticia with him was pretty amazing, and I wondered how much competition Gomez was going to have when it came to getting Morticia out on the dance floor. “People are always going in and out, so the building’s never totally at capacity. I’ll sneak him in. Where’re you sitting?”

I pointed at the table where Adam and Sydney sat, my empty chair between them. “Send him over there.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks!”

After that I turned and walked a few steps, then had to pause as the group of ghostbusters cut in front of me, clearly heading for the bar. Once the way had cleared, I began to move forward again, only to freeze as I came face to face with a tall man all in black, his face partly shaded by the wide-brimmed black hat he wore. Even the mask covering the upper half of his face couldn’t hide the lean, handsome features, the sensual mouth.

My brain sort of registered that he was dressed as Zorro, just as I also realized I was blocking his way.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, moving to the side so he could continue on his path.

“I’m not,” he said with a smile.

Right then I was glad Sydney had talked me into wearing that flashy dress, because from what I could see, the stranger’s expression was more than a little admiring.

The moment passed, though, and he just sort of nodded and kept going, clearly headed toward a table that had several other guys and a few girls seated at it. They all looked to be around my age, maybe a few years older. I didn’t recognize any of them, but that didn’t surprise me much. The Jerome Halloween dance was advertised all over the state, and we had people driving in from Phoenix and even Tucson to attend. The town’s B&Bs were generally booked on this weekend up to six months in advance.

Somehow I kept myself from staring at the stranger, though, and went on to sit back down at my own table. I plopped into my chair and reached for my glass of wine.

“Did you take care of it?” Sydney asked. It was a little quieter right then, as they’d turned off the canned music. I saw the band starting to walk onstage.

“Yes.” Then I leaned in close to her and hoped Adam wasn’t eavesdropping. “I just saw the hottest guy.”

“You did? Where?”

I lowered my voice further. “A few tables over to the left…the Zorro.”

At least she’d mastered the art of the casual over-the-shoulder glance. I doubted Adam could even tell what she was doing. She leaned in close to me immediately afterward and said, “Holy crap. You weren’t kidding. Are you going to ask him to dance? You have to — your costumes are perfect together!”

“I-I don’t know. Maybe.” I didn’t think I was brave enough for that. Yes, this wasn’t the Victorian era, and there certainly was nothing wrong with going up to a guy and asking him to dance, but…. I risked a quick look of my own in the direction of the table where Zorro sat. It was hard to tell whether he was with any of the girls in particular or whether they were just a group of friends who’d come to the dance together.

“Something interesting over there?” Adam asked, craning his own neck.

“No — I was just looking to see whether Aunt Rachel had shown up yet.”

Since that was a perfectly plausible explanation, he just said, “Oh,” and returned to his beer. And whether my little lie had manifested her presence or she’d just shown up at that particular moment, I actually did see her walk in the door a few seconds later, followed by Tobias. At least, from his height I assumed it was Tobias. He was dressed in black hooded robes and carried a scythe. I hoped he didn’t give her a heart attack when she opened the door and saw him in that getup.

She appeared to spy us and gave a little wave, and I