Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“I probably was,” he agrees with a light laugh.
I hide my smile by knocking our rummaging out of sync so I can no longer see him through the center of the racks. “But that’s not what you were actually asking me, was it?”
“It wasn’t,” Luke says. “When I arrived in the overworld, there was much to be surprised about. My brother and I spent our childhoods dreaming of going, and we’d heard murmurings about it, but it was difficult to know what was real and what was exaggerated.
Unfortunately, the way some in the overworld view sexuality was…
not exaggerated. Nobody cares about that here. ”
“As I’m sure you’ve discovered about the overworld, people in power sometimes care too much about things that don’t affect them. Almost makes things in the underworld seem not too bad.”
“It has its flaws.”
Flaws, indeed. My eyes drift to Luke’s backpack, which he set down toward the center of the room, and the soul jars within. Hundreds of people who will never find peace.
“To answer your real question…” I stall my movements, letting Luke catch up.
We lock eyes between walls of glittering sequins and detailed embroidery.
“Knowing you have an ex that’s a man doesn’t surprise me in a way that’s different from the rest of this.
I didn’t know anything about you two weeks ago.
So, yes, I’m surprised. But not because it’s particularly surprising, or something I mind.
Not at all. It’s just another thing about you I didn’t know. ”
“You mean, along with the whole growing up in hell thing?” His mouth quirks at the corner.
I smile at him. “Among others. But I’m happy to know it all now.”
My eyes stray to Chryser, as an ugly green flower blooms in my chest, making my smile fall.
Like Tatianna, he’s captivating, effortlessly so between his tailored monochromatic outfit and piercing gaze.
Neither of them is pretty, per se, but they’re confident and cutting in a way that feels irreplicable.
I imagine the same could be said for the siren, whoever she is.
Luke clearly has a type—immortal and gorgeous and potentially prone to maiming him, if Chryser’s claws and Tatianna’s teeth are any indication. I bet he likes the thrill of it.
“What’s wrong?” Luke analyzes my expression.
I wrench my gaze away, continuing to scan the garments. Colors fly by, in fabrics so stiff they scratch my fingers or so soft I barely feel them at all, with little in between. Shades of rubies and emeralds and sapphires, as if every dress were destined to have a corresponding gem.
It only takes a few good pushes for him to catch up to me, creating a conversation space again. This time, it’s between a pearl bustier and a chain mail shift. “Brie—”
“He’s beautiful.” The words explode out of me, a shotgun blast of truth. I laugh to smooth it out. “Obviously.”
“Hey!” Chryser yells from across the floor. “Less laughing, more rifling!”
I speed up my clothing search so Luke can’t see the embarrassment staining my cheeks. But there’s not much rack left. We reach the end at the same time and come face-to-face.
“He is beautiful,” Luke nonchalantly agrees, making my stomach bottom out. He holds my gaze. “So are you.”
“What options have you pulled?” Chryser interrupts, coming over to us before I can respond to Luke. His arms are piled high with garments, all gowns of varying hues.
I snag a random number. “This one.”
Chryser’s thin brows rise. Luke’s eyes flash with something reminiscent of what I saw in the bathroom this morning.
I glance down at the dress. The entire length of it is sheer, from the tube top to the toes. On it are tiny crystals that create a reflective quality. But not nearly reflective enough.
“Actually, I’m not loving it in this light,” I say, placing the revealing garment back on the rack. I turn to Chryser. “What did you pick?”
And that’s how I end up, over an hour later, in a deep purple gown with a sweetheart neckline and off-the-shoulder sleeves.
Chryser tied the corset back so tightly I can barely breathe, and I’ve traded my trusty Docs for a pair of black velvet platform heels.
A thigh-high slit up the right leg adds the perfect touch, and will come in handy for hiding my dagger while keeping it quickly accessible.
Beside me, Luke buttons the jacket of a black tux made of sleek velvet with faint designs etched across it. Beneath the jacket is a fitted dark purple button-down that matches my dress. The top few buttons are undone, and a velvet bow tie hangs loosely around his neck.
I’ve seen Luke dressed up. Even on casual Fridays, when Ted is boasting a college D3 basketball T-shirt two sizes too small, Luke never fails to sport a button-down and slacks around the office. But this…this look was made for him.