Page 192 of Barbi and the Villain

“You’re right. You think of everything,” I murmur, pleased.

We go to a more secluded corner and get the dogs out of the house, getting them accustomed to the harnesses before placing them on. PomPom is used to one, but it seems BonBon isn’t, with Ander even less so. But with the promise of some nice treats, they obey and let us put the harnesses around them.

Building the illusion of a dark smog, Nykander shields us from the rest of the world so we can take the time to put on the clothes he’d bought from the merchant. His is a dark tunic that reaches his calves. It cinches at the waist with a thick leather belt. The design is quite medieval, but it would be hard for him to not look good in anything. For me, he’d gotten a simple linen dress in a faded cream color. The irony is that mine is much more conservative than his. It has no belt, or even a string to tie it together at the waist to give my body some shape.

Nope. It’s just a sack of potatoes that covers every inch of my skin.

Nykander notices my grumpiness as I glare at my new dress, but he doesn’t say anything. Not even a ‘you look good, baby, regardless of your clothes.’

No, he just urges me to get going.

I scoff and trail after him as we get back on the road.

Yet it soon becomes clear that women here do not wear sacks of potatoes. In fact, their boobs are hanging out of their bodices, their waists accentuated by a tight belt, and their legs showing from slits cut onto the sides of the skirts.

“Nykander, why is my dress the only one like this?”

“The only one like what?” He has the gall to ask, and I detect a smirk pulling at his lips.

“You know exactly what I mean.” I scowl at him. “Look at those girls! They’re wearing actual dresses, not an oversized men’s shirt.”

“I do not care what other females wear.” He shrugs. “I care what my female wears. And your lovely assets are for my eyes only, sweet thing. I will not have any other male ogle you.”

“What if I want to be ogled?” I fire back—mostly to rile him up.

He suddenly stops. He turns to me, his eyes blazing.

“Then I feel obliged to show everyone why they call me the Dark One. And murdering males right and left is not a good way to maintain our cover. So you either dress like this and I behave myself, or you get an actual dress and I leave a trail of bodies in my wake. It is your choice,” he declares proudly, folding his arms over his chest.

“Nyk!”

He smiles.

“Yes, sweet thing?” He raises his brows.

“You are impossible! How is that even a choice?”

“You wanted an alternative, so I am giving you one. I might even make a small concession. Instead of killing them, I will just gouge their eyes out. Then you can wear whatever you want.”

“But, Nyk,” I say in frustration. “It’s not like I have any asset to put on display. And you’re by my side. It’s not as if they’re going to try something when I’m with you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies flippantly. “I am a greedy male, just like you are my greedy little girl.” He smirks. “It does not have to be a rational reaction, or even a sensible one. I am relaying to you what will happen if you decide to wear something else. I will never stop you. But just like that, you cannot stop me from killing whoever sees you either.”

“What if it’s a female? You’re mentioning males, but you have no way of knowing if it’s a female into other females,” I counter, pushing my chin up in satisfaction when I see an annoyed twitch in his cheek.

“Then I can only thank you for pointing that out. I will rectify my plan and kill everyone who lays eyes on even one inch of your skin. How about that?”

“Good Lord! What is wrong with you?” I exclaim in outrage—well, feigned outrage, since his words make my heart beat a thousand times faster.

He chuckles.

“I am a demon, Barbs. A greedy demon. Do not expect me to be good, rational, or upstanding—at least when it comes to you.”

I stare at him, speechless.

“Now that we have gotten that out of the way, may we continue? Or will you change your dress and I will shed blood?”

He smiles innocently at me.

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