Chapter 10 #2
“You know what,” Dani said, a small smile starting to kindle. “Yeah. I’m in. After all this, I think a party is just what the doctor ordered.”
Three hours later, she was showered, beautified, and doing her best to evict Silva and OneiroLabs from her brain space, at least for the rest of the evening.
Instead, she succeeded in becoming extraordinarily jittery about the party and about seeing Kass again.
Thank Hecate for McKenna, who had not only had the presence of mind to call a cab but had also done Dani’s hair and makeup, and wheedled Dani into borrowing one of her dresses.
They had elected not to go the costume route—Dani thought Kass might appreciate if they didn’t—and so she was in a slinky spaghetti-strappy number hardly larger than a thumbnail, the color of a Norwegian mermaid’s tail. It was decidedly un-Dani in every way.
She was already regretting her moment of weakness as she attempted to slide across the back seat of the taxi without her dress riding up above sea level.
She tugged the hem down to microscopic effect and buckled her seat belt.
Her hair had been curled and teased into an impeccably messy half-updo, and her eye shadow, remarkably understated in its subtle silver sheen, made an exact match to the dress.
The only concession she had won was her accessories: McKenna had failed to talk her out of a jean jacket or her trademark Docs, currently tied with cotton candy shoelaces.
Dani hadn’t hated what she’d seen in the mirror before they left—but she did hate the feeling of the sticky pleather seat against the underside of her exposed thighs.
McKenna floated in after her, announcing their destination with pride to the driver.
She was in fine spirits and a killer outfit: black crushed-velvet leggings, a lacy crop top, and a dramatic floor-length cape illuminated with delicately beaten gold.
She had slicked her volume of hair into a tight bun, and smoky eye shadow brought out the hidden amber fire in her eyes.
She looked like a cross between a banshee and an empress, at once formidable and alluring.
Whatever glamour she had on tonight, she’d made it so that it didn’t affect Dani too strongly, but even so, Dani found her gaze straying to her friend every few minutes without her permission.
“We look hot,” McKenna said excitedly as the car began to navigate the streets. “Coffee boy’s eyeballs are going to fall out of his skull when he sees you.”
“Gods, I hope not,” Dani said. “Also, Kass.”
“Hmm?”
“His name is Kass, not coffee boy.”
“Noted,” McKenna said, “but he’ll forever be coffee boy in my heart.”
If it hadn’t been for her earlier confession, Dani would never have guessed tonight would be McKenna’s first official party. She seemed, as she so often did, as invulnerable as winged Nike, while Dani had come out of the womb bathed in the amniotic fluid of anxiety, and it showed.
Even so, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation as the cab passed Quarter Cast and ventured deeper into downtown.
It worked its way through the more gentrified neighborhoods buzzing with nightlife and into a quieter residential area, with big bungalows and turn-of-the-century moderns crammed together.
Gradually, the houses retreated from the road, which smoothed and widened into a well-mannered avenue, until Dani knew for certain that they’d reached Eunoia Park.
The land here rose and fell in gentle hills, thickly wooded so all that could be seen of the buildings were spangles of light twinkling between the branches.
The sidewalks were laid with river-stones and lined with lampposts, if they could borrow the term.
They were more like tall pedestals crowned with orbs of fairy lights, soft and hazy and emitting a pale blue aura.
The headlights of the car seemed garish in comparison.
Elaborate gates shielding sloped driveways sailed past, each laced with the cobwebs of protection spells.
Only once did they cross paths with another car, a vintage Audi whose wheels had been removed in favor of a hover charm.
The chauffeur raised a hand as they went by, but the back windows were tinted too darkly to see who they were driving.
After several minutes, the cab pulled up to one of the gates, a steel-and-chrome affair that looked more like the entrance to a top secret warehouse than somebody’s home. “This is the address,” the driver said uncertainly.
Sharing his sentiment, Dani rolled down her window. A beat passed before an image flickered and formed between the car and the gate: a sort of stock-image butler. “Please state your purpose,” he said in a mild German accent.
“We’re here for the, um, party?”
“Names?”
“Dani Lionet and McKenna Amari.”
The butler’s face went eerily slack for a moment, before a quick return to its approximation of human behavior. “Ah, yes, I have a Dani listed with a plus one, identity unknown. You may proceed. Your driver has two minutes to idle in front of the entrance.”
“Thanks,” Dani said, rolling up the window as the image faded. The slats of the gate lowered into the ground, and the driver urged his car up the forested drive, which was steep enough to block their destination from sight at first. Then, one tower at a time, Kass’s house came into view.