"All you're missing to complete the look is an extremely hairy male chest," he said.
I blinked and then realized our proximity. "Are you sure you feel okay about being this close to me?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I have the stun gun in a shoulder holster right now and I'm not afraid to use it. Don't take it personally."
I snorted lightly. "I don't blame you at all."
"How do you feel?"
"I'm not sure."
"Do you feel any different?"
I concentrated. "I'm not… sure."
He tilted his head to the side. "Does my neck look extremely delicious and appetizing to you right now?"
I looked at his neck. "Not particularly."
"I'm terribly insulted."
"Don't be."
He stood up from the sofa and walked over to the front door. "Well, how about another test?"
He swung the door open and the sunlight hit me square in the face. I shrieked, held up my hands, and braced myself for sheer and complete agony.
But… there was nothing.
I slowly spread my fingers and looked through them at George and the very bright
February day behind him.
"You're not on fire," he observed. "I'm thinking that's a good sign."
I touched the chain at my throat and rose from the sofa, moving over to where George stood. I stood in the doorway, closed my eyes, and felt the sun on my face.
"I can't believe this!" I said, and laughed out loud with relief and happiness. I tentatively took a step outside and then another, until I was standing in the middle of the snow-
covered front lawn in my bare feet. Then I proceeded to do a happy little jig. "It works!
The necklace works!"
"It wasn't from Thierry at all, was it?" he said, with a matching smile on his face. "It was the Red Devil. He sent the necklace to you. See? I told you he was all sorts of awesomeness."
I stopped dancing for a moment. He was right. The Red Devil had to have been the one to send this to me. And what did the note say? That he cared about my well-being?
I frowned then. "How did he know where I was staying? He had the delivery made here specifically. How did he know I was even here?"
"Who cares?" George replied.
Good point.
Human or not, the Red Devil was now my favorite masked man in the universe. He even beat out Zorro, and since I was a big Antonio Banderas fan, that was saying a lot.
"I love the Red Devil!" I said out loud.
"Me, too!" George agreed, and he joined me on the front lawn and we did a sun dance together as we celebrated my new chance at a normal life.
It was a very good way to start Valentine's Day.
Feeling revitalized and happier than I'd felt in days, I took my time getting ready to go to
Haven. I wanted to look extra good—after all, it was Valentine's Day. I told George to keep my new piece of jewelry a secret. I wanted to surprise Thierry with my fabulous news.
I put on some new lingerie I'd never worn before because it was too nice and I was saving it for a special occasion, and then got dressed in a bright-pink cashmere sweater and short black skirt. The sweater was high enough in the neckline to conceal the gold chain but tight enough to make up for the lack of cleavage. Black nylons and black stilettos finished things off nicely. I even used Velcro rollers to give my hair a little extra oomph and then spent a good half hour painstakingly applying my makeup, using my large shard to reflect how it was going.
Sometimes I wondered why vampires didn't have reflections. Really, it didn't make much sense, did it? I was solid, I felt solid. I wasn't see-through. But a regular mirror didn't show me or the clothes I wore.
Too weird.
But I was currently too happy to give a crap.
I finished applying my Viva Glam lipstick and smiled brightly at my well-made-up reflection. I'd ringed my eyes in black liner and had gone extra heavy on the mascara. My hazel eyes popped right off my face. Though, not literally, of course, because that wouldn't be good.
I'd taken it fairly light on makeup and fashion—all things considered—over the past couple of months. Strange that when you're scared for your life these things tend to take a backseat to other worries.
But a little polish sure did feel good.
Even George approved. When I finally emerged from my bedroom through a cloud of hairspray and Givenchy eau de toilette, he gave me an appraising look.
"Who's the Cosmo Girl?" he asked. "I don't think we've met."
"Very funny."
"Let's go. It's my last night to make tips."
I still wasn't sure what I was going to do to make money after tonight. However, with my newly optimistic outlook, I felt rather certain that everything would work out perfectly.
My plan for tonight was to show up at Haven, let Thierry get a load of my new and improved look and outlook, and then force him to take me out on the town for drinks to celebrate Valentine's Day and my new lease on life. Then we'd go back to his townhome and I'd show him a few other things, not the least of which was my brand new lingerie, which I had a funny feeling he might like quite a lot.
So what if I was stuck as a nightwalker? As long as I had my new necklace all was right with the world, because none of the symptoms even mattered anymore. I could forget about my problems and think only of my future. With Thierry.
Hell yeah. It was going to be a very good night.
The world seemed brighter. The stars were out. The moon shone large in the black sky above. The night air was cold and refreshing against my face. My feet hurt like a son of a bitch because of the four-inch stilettos, but it was a good pain. And one that, after a lifetime of wearing questionable footwear, I could deal with quite easily.