Chapter Sixteen
Sixteen
McKenna didn’t require much convincing to lend her talents to the cause.
“Of course I will join your illustrious heist,” she told Dani. “As if I needed more incentive to make mischief during my time on this mortal plane.”
“Are you sure?” Dani asked. She’d just gotten back from her Tuesday night shift, and McKenna had still been awake, finishing up an assignment for her psychology class, so they were sitting on her bed together. “I know it’s a lot to ask. If we get caught—”
“Babe.” McKenna leaned over and grabbed her hands.
“I know what that money means to you.” Dani had finally vented to both her and Oliver about her pending scholarship review during their sleepover last night.
“It certainly won’t mean nothing to me, either.
Twenty-five thousand dollars will go a long way in purchasing the materials I need to turn my portfolio into a real collection.
Plus, I want to help Oliver as much as you do.
More to the point—we won’t get caught with me on the team.
I shall assume this irresponsibility with the grace, finesse, and badassery that I do all things. ”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“But.” McKenna’s smile flattened, the mischief in her face turning serious. “Let it be known that I’ll be keeping an eye on Silva every step of the way. I haven’t decided whether to trust her.”
“I think I do,” Dani said. “She can come off a little cold sometimes, but she really seems to care about what happens to Oliver—and all of us.”
“Then she won’t mind a little extra scrutiny. So,” McKenna said, squeezing Dani’s hands before releasing them. “Not to change the subject, but have you decided what you’re wearing for your daaaate on Thursday?”
“About that,” Dani said, trying to ignore the inevitable blush that McKenna’s teasing brought out in her.
“I may have overbooked my schedule just a little bit…” She and Katya had been messaging back and forth on the secure app and had come to the inevitable conclusion that Thursday was their only opportunity to swing by the OneiroLabs haunt Silva had told them about.
They’d agreed to meet at the bar at ten o’clock that evening, which meant that Dani would have to make sure her date with Kass had wrapped up by then.
“That’s bad luck,” McKenna said once she’d heard the pickle Dani had gotten herself into. “But it just means that we’ll have to make certain you look extra irresistible to make up for it, won’t we? Let’s take a peek at our options.”
Thursday night arrived on a glittering Gulf Stream of confused emotions.
One minute, Dani would be thinking of Kass, warmth filling her belly and coaxing butterflies into flight—then the sword of Damocles hanging over her would catch the light, and her joints would lock up with dread.
She was used to doing illegal things, but she’d been a minor then, and it would’ve been her parents held responsible, not her.
She tried not to catastrophize about what would happen if things went wrong, reassuring herself that Silva had their backs.
But even her mantra of You’re doing this to help Oliver—or the thought of twenty-five thousand dollars at the end of the tunnel—didn’t do much to soothe her.
Come time to primp and polish for her date, Dani was a nervous wreck.
“I don’t know why you’re in such a state,” McKenna said.
She was pinning a butterfly clip into Dani’s newly softened and curled hair, which, thanks to her inability to stop shaking some part of her body—currently her hand tapping against her leg—was something of a moving target.
“You’ll have three and a half hours to enjoy your date before you have to meet Katya downtown. ”
“That’s not why I’m nervous. Well, I mean, it is, but not really.”
“So it’s the date, then? I’ve been telling you all along that Kass is into you, that he’d be silly not to be, and not even you can argue it now, when he’s gone and asked you out properly.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? The scholarship review?”
“I don’t know,” Dani said, more exasperated with herself than with McKenna. Comfy up in his nest, Gingerbread croaked his agreement. “Just that this thing with Kass feels real, I guess, and that makes it extra scary.”
McKenna finished securing the sparkly insect to the indigo part of Dani’s hair, and her hands landed in a firm grip on her shoulders. Gently but sternly, she rotated Dani to face the full-length mirror on her side of the room.
As always, Dani was indebted to her friend’s stylistic expertise; Kass’s vague instructions of “come as you are” had had the opposite effect from their comforting intent.
One look in the mirror, though, told Dani that McKenna had worked her magic yet again.
She’d struck the perfect balance of casual and dressy with a pair of dark-wash jeans embroidered with flowers, a chenille off-the-shoulder sweater dyed a deep cabernet, and a rose-gold eye shadow Dani would never have had the guts to attempt herself.
It shouldn’t have worked with her hair, but somehow it did.
“You’re magnificent,” McKenna said softly over her shoulder.
“And I’ve never known you to back down from something just because it scared you.
I mean, the first time you talked to me was when I was in the middle of a screaming match with my mom.
And we’re literally planning on breaking into a multimillion-dollar company, for the Morrigan’s sake.
You can handle a night out with your crush.
” She studied Dani’s reflection for a moment before her eyes brightened.
“Hang on, I’ve got the perfect finishing touch. ”
She went to rummage through the jewelry box on her desk. Dani, meanwhile, practiced standing in non-awkward poses in the mirror. “What the fuck are you supposed to do with your arms?” she murmured to herself. “Why do I even have arms?”
“Here,” McKenna said, flitting back over with something shiny in her hands. “This will make sure he can’t take his eyes off you. Not that I think you need any help with that.”
Nevertheless, she lowered the chain around Dani’s neck; at the end of it hung a small, round amber set against a ring of darker stones. It fit perfectly inside the chain of the amethyst pendulum Dani always wore. “I enchanted this the other day for just such an occasion.”
Dani had to admit that it brought a certain glow to her face that hadn’t been there before. She turned toward McKenna once the chain was clasped.
“Thank you,” she said. “I know helping me get dressed might seem like a small thing, but it really means a lot to me, every time you do it.”
“Au contraire,” McKenna said, “I consider it a task of the greatest importance.” She booped Dani’s nose lightly with a finger. “Now, you’d better decide on a jacket, because he’s picking you up in five minutes.”
“Oh my gods,” Dani said. “Are you serious? Do I look okay? Do I smell okay?”
McKenna laughed. “You look like a goddess and you smell like lavender growing on the moon,” she said. “He won’t know what to do with himself.”
“That makes two of us.” Dani shimmied into her trusty leather jacket and grabbed the purse McKenna was lending her. “Okay. I’m going. Wish me luck!”
“Good luck!” McKenna called as Dani closed the door behind her, Gingerbread joining his achy voice with hers.
Dani paused for a moment in the hallway, collecting the pieces of herself: the flutter of her vulnerable heart, the umami taste of eagerness on her tongue, the calming presence of her amethyst pendulum. It was going to be okay. She needed to believe that.
She stepped outside just as a car was pulling up to the curb.
A steady rain was falling, so she waited in the doorway as it parked.
It took her a minute to realize it was one of those old Subarus from a few decades ago, brought back to life in such a way that it looked new again, and significantly sexier than the original car could have ever dreamed of being.
Its wheels had been replaced with hover charms that churned rain into spray as it moved, headlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the current of water rushing down the gutter.
It was a very Kass car, somehow, in its sweet, attractive dorkiness, and sure enough she could see his face behind the steering wheel, smiling at her.
He waved when she started to leave the protection of the doorway, signaling for her to stay put. She obeyed as he stepped out of his car and passed his hand over his head. When he ran up to her, she realized his peacoat was completely dry.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she said. “Nice car.”
“Thanks. It was my mom’s, and I souped it up a few years ago. Kind of a memorial to her.”
“That’s really nice.”
“You look beautiful,” Kass blurted suddenly, candy-heart pink flashing in Dani’s mind. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to come out so weird.”
“Thank you,” Dani said, smiling. His own nervousness instantly set her at ease. “I did my best to dress for the occasion, but it’s kind of hard when you don’t know what the occasion is.”
“Well, dinner, of course,” Kass said, “and then something special afterward. Speaking of which, we have reservations I don’t think we should miss.” He gestured toward the car. “Don’t worry, milady, I shall protect you from the rain.”
“Good,” Dani said, “because I don’t have an umbrella, and I wouldn’t want to melt on our first date.”
“A real and present danger.” Kass offered her his arm, just like he had that night at his party.
She linked her elbow through his, blushing at the frisson that ran down her spine as they made physical contact, and let him lead her down the stairs and to the passenger side, whatever charm he had cast acting as an invisible umbrella over both their heads.