Chapter 20 Nyx
NYX
If I could go back and smack the shit out of the Nyx from a month ago, I would. Because she was a fucking idiot to think she could just mind her own business and keep her head down and everything would be okay like it had been in Lynden.
This place is fucking nothing like Lynden.
One moment I’m walking back to the dorms with Brynne after she found me hiding behind the Planetarium again, and the next Tori’s rushing up to us like we’re old friends, which apparently she and Brynne actually are.
Because of course they are.
Actually, I’m pretty sure the Nyx from a month ago would want to smack the shit out of me.
I could have declined the invitation once I came to my senses.
When Tori and Brynne knocked on my door this morning, I could have said, “Hey actually no thanks, I don’t want to go shopping for a masquerade ball I have no intention of attending because everyone hates me and I’m saving my money for when I leave here with nothing but bad memories.”
Fucking hell. I couldn’t have said that.
They don’t seem to notice I’ve disassociated since we sat down at this disgustingly chic café… which I’m just now realizing I haven’t done much since I came here.
Huh.
Nope. Not going to dwell on that today.
Or the fact that I’m a little envious. They don’t look like they’re pre-planning responses, timing nods and smiles that actually reach their eyes for appropriate breaks in conversation. They’re completely at ease.
That’s what I’m envious of.
I wish I could do that.
“What do you think, Nyx?”
Shit.
“Sorry?” I respond to Tori, who’s looking at me eagerly.
“Ready to go shopping?”
“Sure,” I say with my best attempt at a half-hearted smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.
The town of Hemlock Hill, I was surprised to find out, was less than ten minutes from by car.
Tori drove some sleek, silver SUV that I’m sure cost more than the combined incomes of everyone in Lynden.
I felt too poor to even look at the thing, let alone contaminate the supple leather that was probably harvested from baby seals or some shit with my poverty.
The small college town is exactly what I imagined every time I read a small town romance: tree-lined streets blanketed with the red, orange, and yellow hues of Autumn.
People waving to one another from across the street.
Mom and pop shops with stunning window displays of baked goods, halloween decorations, and the latest fashion.
Unlike Lynden, there’s not a tumbleweed in sight.
I’m shocked it hasn’t already been scouted as a Hallmark movie location.
It’s the last shop with the window display full of sparkly outfits that our group enters.
“Oh look at this one!” Brynne exclaims as she bolts to one of the mannequins just past the entrance while Tori and Evie peel off like synchronized swimmers in the opposite direction, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the expansive shop.
A very perky, very blonde woman sees my distress and approaches me with a wry twist of her lips.
“Is there anything you’re looking for in particular today?”
“Uh, well they’re—”
“Lisette!” Tori interrupts, coming to my rescue. “Maeve was telling us about your latest collection,” she mock-whispers, rubbing her hands together in excitement and turning on the best kicked puppy pout I’ve ever seen. “Can we see?”
Lisette tuts in disapproval. “For Fate’s sake, the Masquerade was announced yesterday and she’s already telling students?”
“Okay to be fair,” Tori starts, putting her hands out placatingly, “I did bribe her.”
Lisette chuckles before crossing her arms and arching a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow.“And what is my sister getting in return for this early preview?”
“How does being the exclusive stylist to all four Hektreia daughters for Samhainn and the Governor’s Gala sound?”
The blonde freezes, then smiles wide. “Next time lead with that, Victoria darling. Right this way ladies.” Brynne and Evie grin at each other conspiratorially and follow as Lisette leads Tori into a private parlor towards the back of the store.
I follow silently, speechless as I pass racks of glittering, gauzy gowns in protective dresses bags.
When I finally join them, Lisette is handing out glasses of champagne.
“Ms. Pembroke, how’s your aunt?” she says as Brynne takes the offered flute.
“Currently lecturing in Paris,” Brynne answers, eyes sliding to mine before explaining, “she’s an Alchemist pursuing her Grandmastery.”
“Wow,” I say, internally cringing when I sound more like Owen Wilson than I’d ever wanted too.
“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure, you are…?” Lisette asks as she hands me another full flute.
“Nyx. Byrke. I’m new,” I add on quickly when I see the look of confusion on her face.
“Well then, welcome, Ms. Byrke,” she says with a stiff smile that doesn’t meet the calculating look in her eyes.
It’s one of those “I don’t know whether you matter enough to ingratiate myself” smiles. I’m not from a family like Tori and Evie, nor do I have any famous relatives like Brynne does, apparently. I’m sure she’ll find the right box to put me in soon enough, just like Maeve did.
“Now.” She turns her back on me, facing Tori and Evie.
“Are you ready?” Tori squeals in excitement as Lisette brings out gown after gown, and soon all three of them are fawning over the samples.
Evie picks out a light, flowy gown with iridescent fabric that shimmers under the light in shades of lilac, lavender, blue.
Tori keeps going back to a high-necked, figure-hugging silver brocade gown with a keyhole cut out that would make Eileen proud of how it accentuates her cleavage.
Brynne eventually chooses a stunning dark brown tulle and lace gown with an embellished plunging neck line that goes all the way down to her belly button.
When the others are primping and fussing with their choices, Lisette turns to me with a discerning stare. “For you Ms. Byrke, I think—”
“Oh no, it’s okay. Really. I’m just here for moral support.” I say, raising my glass in mock toast.
“Don’t be silly!” Tori calls out. “Maeve already has Nyx’s account info so just send the receipt to her.”
“Wait, what?” I turn to Tori, who has the good sense to at least pretend to be chagrined, while Evie only snorts and rolls her eyes at her sister.
“You’ll learn pretty quick that it’s easier to just let her do her thing.”
“I wasn’t planning on getting anything,” I insist, but they all just stare at me, and I can feel the flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.
“It couldn’t hurt to try something on, could it? Even if you don’t find anything you like.” Brynne suggests, winking at me from the mirror where she’s been twirling for the last five minutes.
“Famous last words,” I mutter, but Lisette’s already shooing me towards a back room.
“Let’s see,” she says, eyeing me up and down. I’m somewhat less self-conscious now than I was when Maeve fitted me for my uniforms a month ago, but I’m still stiff and awkward as she appraises me and gestures with her finger. “Do a little turn.”
When I face her again, her eyes are bright with excitement. “Oh this will be perfect.” Without waiting for me, she dives into the racks, wrestling garment bags and dresses into submission as she searches for something I’ll probably hate anyways.
“You really don’t have to—” I begin to protest, but her triumphant shout cuts me off. When she reappears with a black garment bag in tow, I resign myself to playing nicely.
“Take this,” she says, handing me the deceptively heavy bag, “and let me know if you need help putting on the cape.”
There’s a fucking cape? Why is there a cape?
Five minutes later—after contorting my body into the skintight dress, too afraid to breathe lest I split the seams—I realize why.
“Holy shit,” I exhale in disbelief. The dress, if you can even call it that, is primarily nude mesh with strips of sparkling, embellished black velvet that trace the lines of my body.
They run down my chest and stomach, hiding my chest and groin, but otherwise leave me exposed before transitioning into a full black skirt and train.
The mesh sleeves hook around my middle fingers with loops of black velvet, but it’s not until the cape—a heavy blanket of even more embellished black velvet—that I understand.
“Oh my God the suspense is killing me, just come out already!” Evie complains from the other side of the door, and I cant help but smile as the other two join her.
“Behold,” Lisette announces as I begin to open the door, “The Goddess of Night.”
Their silence is more than a little unnerving as I step to the last unclaimed riser as Lisette follows to bustle the train. It’s not until I see the dress in triplicate thanks to the trifold mirrors that I’m also struck speechless.
Because the version of Nyx Byrke I’ve known all my life has disappeared under a cloak of endless, glittering night. Tendrils of dark fabric reach out like shadows from beneath the cape to twine and curl around her naked form, until she’s bound by a ravenous darkness that threatens to consume her.
Time stills from one stuttering heartbeat to the next as pressure grips my chest like a fist. The tendrils of fabric begin to move like shadows, creeping and writhing as they climb my reflection. But I feel the whispers of their touch, cool against my skin.
Curious.
Searching.
The embellishments on the dress begin to blink in and out of existence, like stars in the night, dying and flaring to life from one breath to the next.
Beneath the hood, the darkness tremors.
I feel, rather than see, the gaping maw of the void open wide.
And suddenly, something stirs in the bottom of that black abyss.
Something… endless.
I can’t look away.
It won’t let me look away.
The abyss holds me captive, its gaze raking over me.
Delving under my skin, through my veins, into the depths of my mind.
But I refuse to blink.
I refuse.