“I understand if you feel differently, now that you know I’m…” LaLa trailed off to pick up a jeweled veil as if the object could complete the sentence she seemed scared to finish. “I won’t curse you or anything if you don’t want to be friends with a Fate. Curses aren’t really my bit anyway—I just have the toxic tears and the excessive engagements.”
“And you have a friend as well,” Evangeline said. “As long as you don’t mind that I’m a fugitive who has a habit of making terrible deals with Jacks.”
“Everyone makes terrible deals with Jacks!” LaLa squealed, and suddenly Evangeline found herself tangled up in a hug that she hadn’t realized she’d needed. Without any shoes on, LaLa was more than several inches shorter than Evangeline, but her hug could not have been mightier. “You won’t regret being my friend. We make excellent allies, you’ll see!”
LaLa started pulling clothing out of trunks and wardrobes. Most of the items were covered in dragon scales, sequins, or other pieces of ornamentation. But she didn’t choose any of those for Evangeline. “We need a different sort of dramatic,” she said.
* * *
When LaLa finally finished with Evangeline, she stood before a tall mirror and stared at a reflection that seemed as if it should not belong to her.
LaLa had disguised Evangeline’s hair with shimmering golden powder and dressed her in a ruffled cape that, instead of fastening around her neck, attached to the thin straps of her shapely black-lace corset, which fed into a tiered midnight-blue skirt made of tulle that only went to her knees, making it easier to move and giving a clear view of the daring black leather boots that went up to her thighs. LaLa had also given her a knife that she could place in the sheath attached to the skirt.
Evangeline looked like a fugitive princess. And even though that was exactly what she was, it was not what she’d been yesterday, and she felt a strange pit in her stomach as she realized that she would never be that girl again. She wasn’t the person she had been before. Maybe she hadn’t been that girl for a while. She’d known the day she’d entered Jacks’s church that whatever she did would change her, and now she was seeing the effect of that choice.
She still believed in love at first sight, but she no longer believed it meant forever love—if it had, she would still be with Luc, living out her happily ever after. But now it was tempting to wonder if there really was a happy ending waiting for her.
Months ago, Poison had warned: Even if you never want to see Jacks again, you’ll gravitate toward him until you fulfill the deal you’ve made with him.
And now, here she was. She’d come to the North because she’d thought this was her chance at finding love and happiness, but she wondered if she’d really just been drawn toward Jacks.
“A dark wig would probably be a better disguise, but your hair is too pretty to completely cover up.” LaLa added another dusting of gold powder to Evangeline’s cheeks and then to her hair, concealing any last remaining hints of pink and completing her transformation.
Her friend had done a wonderful job, but Evangeline felt a slight stab of worry as she took in the way her cape fastened to leave her neck and décolletage intentionally exposed. She might not have received answers from Jacks about vampires, and her mother had never talked about them. But Evangeline had read a few stories, and they all said that vampires liked blood and biting, and they usually preferred to drink straight from their victims’ throats.
“All this skin will drive Chaos mad,” said LaLa. “But trust me, he deserves far worse than being a little tortured.” With that, LaLa trotted up the stairs as if turning Evangeline into vampire bait was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.
Jacks had also cleaned up while Evangeline had dressed. Once she was upstairs again, she found him in the leather chair beside the crackling fire. He’d changed into a steel-gray doublet with silver matte buttons, which he’d acquired from some unknown source. His sharp face was freshly shaved, and his hair was damp. Blue locks curled haphazardly across his forehead while he idly tossed a pale pink apple, the same soft color as the book in in his hand. He looked up, and then directly at her, as soon as she entered the room.
Evangeline’s stomach tumbled. She told herself it was because she was starting to feel hungry, not because of the way Jacks slowly took in every inch of her black thigh-high boots, her shortened skirt, and the form-fitting lace corset cinching her waist and—
He abruptly stopped when he reached all the skin that went from her chest to her neck.