Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“The dress I requested?”
All five of them turn to Andrei at his words, staring up at him adoringly.
I have an urge to grab them by the hair and smack them around.
Because of idiots like them, some of us lost families and live in sewers like cockroaches.
While we are starving, scraping molded leftovers from dumpsters to feed ourselves, they are visiting monsters, all dolled up.
Skintight dresses, mostly in red but one of them black, barely reach to the middle of their thighs.
High ponytails or messy buns sit at the crown of their heads, leaving their necks open.
Bruises cover their shoulders and necks, scars from fangs visible, but not as bad as the one I have.
The one in the black dress hands Andrei a zipped-up bag she is holding.
Snatching it from her hands, he turns his back on them.
“Sit in the living room and don’t move,” he tells them over his shoulder, leading me away.
Letting Andrei drag me away, I twist my neck, walking sideways so I can keep looking at them.
Glares and hostility meet me when the vampire has his back to them.
Frowning, I stumble, nearly falling on my face.
Andrei catches me, scooping me up fast as lightning, and continues walking with a purpose.
After depositing me on the same bed, he disappears for a minute, coming back with his hands full of stuff.
I’ve seen those being used by my mother, back when I had a family and a life.
Sitting next to me on the bed, Andrei turns me so we are facing each other.
“Where did you find these?” Glancing at him through my lashes, I poke around at the makeup he dumped between us with one finger.
“Feeders always carry it with them. They think by painting their face they will taste better.” At my frown, he smiles. “Women always carry makeup.”
“Umm…” My frown deepens, making him chuckle. He lifts my face up with a finger hooked under my chin.
“Women that are not in hiding, I should say.”
“Whatever.” Jerking my face away from his touch, I clench my jaw.
“You don’t need it.” Speaking softly, he starts picking through the makeup.
I sit still, closing and opening my eyes when I’m told.
With swift strokes, he wields brushes like a pro.
Stunned at the look of concentration on his face, I hope I don’t end up looking like a clown, getting more attention than he expects.
When he tells me to close my eyes again, I try picturing the five women sitting in the living room.
Some of them had black lines arched at the corners of their eyes, their lips glossy.
One of them had barely any makeup on her face if I can remember correctly.
“Look at me.” Andrei pulls me out of my thoughts. “And I think we are done. Go put the dress on so I can pull your hair up.”
“How do you even know this?” Grabbing the bag off the bed, I start walking to the bathroom. “Do you do your own makeup occasionally?”
“No.” He laughs, pointing his finger at the bathroom, reminding me to hurry up. “I paint as a hobby. It’s useful in situations like this. And don’t look in the mirror, not yet.”
“Whatever, I’m not in a rush to see myself as a clown.” Stopping just shy of the mirror, I unzip the bag. A red something, I’m assuming it’s a tank top, swings on a hanger. “They forgot the bottom part.”
“Let me see,” Andrei says from right behind me and an embarrassing squeak echoes around us. “Sorry.”
“Make some noise when you sneak up on me. I’ll die of a heart attack if you keep it up.”
Taking the bag from my hands, he pulls the tank top out. With a grin on his face, he shoves it in my hands. “It’s a dress, so it doesn’t need a bottom part. Put it on.”
“Hell no!” Pushing the damn thing back to his chest, I shake my head adamantly. “I’m not going anywhere dressed in this.”
“They’ll be here any moment. Do you want to die because you didn’t like wearing a dress? Or one of us to die because of it?”
Glaring at him with my teeth grinding, I slowly pull my hands away from his chest, the dress clutched in my fingers. “I don’t want to die because of it, no. I couldn’t care less about the rest of you.”
Andrei chuckles like I just told him a joke, walking out of the bathroom.
I told him the truth. I think. I don’t care if any of them die.
Especially that arrogant ass, Sebastian.
The scent of him when he carried me in his arms fills my nostrils, and my heart skips a beat.
What the hell was that? Wondering if they’re doing something to me that is making me insane, I pull his t-shirt over my head, dropping it on the tiles.
It takes some maneuvering and wiggling to get in the tank top that is supposed to be a dress.
When I finally have it on, I keep pulling at it, but the fabric doesn’t lengthen. It sits barely below my butt.
“Don’t look in the mirror,” Andrei calls out.
“Trust me, I really don’t want to see myself at the moment.”
“Can I come in?” It sounds like he is hovering behind the partly closed door.
“Yeah…I guess.”
Still pulling at the bottom of the dress, my feet shift restlessly.
Luckily enough, while in hiding, I never forgot to at least take a little care of myself.
Shaving my legs and underarms was the only thing I allowed myself to do so I could feel like a woman.
A human woman. It would’ve been very awkward wearing this thing if it was otherwise.
The door pushes open, and Andrei stops at the threshold, his gaze sweeping slowly up and down my body.
I keep pulling at the bottom of the damn dress.
He clears his throat after a few moments and comes closer.
I stare at his chest, my face burning from being almost naked here with him.
He wraps his fingers around my bare shoulders and turns me around.
Without a word, he pulls the hair away from my face, his hands tightening it on top of my head.
I didn’t see him holding a brush or anything else, but I wasn’t really looking at him either.
Staying quiet, I let him do whatever he is doing.
“All done.” When the pulling on my hair stops, I stay with my back to him. “Come and see how you look.” Circling around me, he pulls me with him in front of the mirror. When I don’t immediately turn to look at myself, he nudges me gently. “Look, bella.”
Reluctantly, I turn to my right. My mouth parts and I find it a little hard to fill my lungs with air.
The woman staring wide-eyed at me from the mirror is not me.
She looks pretty; thick, long lashes framing her dark eyes.
A bronze glow makes her high cheekbones more prominent, giving her an exotic look.
Although on the skinny side, her breasts are full, stretching the red fabric.
The high ponytail falls over her shoulder down her chest. Only the scar on her neck proves we are the same person.
“This is not me.” I hear my voice, but the lips on the woman in the mirror move.
“I assure you; this is all you. I merely shaded a perfectly painted picture.” Squeezing my shoulders encouragingly, Andrei smiles. His lips freeze the same second, and I feel sick to my stomach. I know what he will say before he opens his mouth.
“They are here.”