Page 30 of Forging Darkness

“Oh, Ash. You didn’t.” I drop back onto the bed and squeeze my eyes shut. Nova is holding the bandage dress I tried on back in Glenwood Springs. I had completely forgotten Ash bought it the night I was attacked.

The bed dips and sways. I open one eye. Ash’s face hovers above me.

“Being a bit dramatic, aren’t you? It’s just a dress. It’s not going to kill you to wear it for one night.”

“First,” I tick a finger in the air, “it’s not a dress, it’s a glorified top. Second,” another finger goes up, “it may just kill me, we don’t really know. Hypothermia is a definite possibility in that thing.”

Ash tilts her head and shoots me a droll look. “You’re a Neph who can create and throw magic fireballs, Emberly. I don’t think freezing to death is a valid concern here.”

“And third,” I continue, undeterred, “I’m not putting something on just so a roomful of dudes can drool over my cleavage and try to look up my skirt.”

“Wait just a minute.” Nova sounds pissed. I prop myself up on an elbow to see her. One fist rests on her hip and the stretchy blue dress is clutched in the other. A scowl mars her perfect face. “The point of wearing an amazing dress like this is not for guys, it’s for you.”

“How do you figure?” I’m genuinely curious.

“Do you think I dress the way I do to get male attention?”

Umm . . . Does she really expect me to answer that?

Her head tilts. “Well, I don’t, okay? I dress the way I dodespitethe attention I receive. I wear what I think is cute. Maybe I’m feeling the color or the style. My clothes make me feel powerful and pretty. Like I need, or want, catcalls from dudes to make me feel good. I already know I’m fabulous.” She uses a perfectly manicured hand to flip a chunk of dark auburn hair over a shoulder. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let the fear of what people think of you stop you from doing things.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, yes you do. I remember what you wore when you first arrived at the academy. Men’s clothes several sizes too large. You were trying to hide yourself in those rags. And since you were living on the streets when we found you, I can understand where you were coming from. But that’s not your reality anymore, Emberly. With us, you can be free to be who you are. Or at least try to figure that out. We’re not here to judge you. And who gives a flying flip what a few horny dudes at a seedy club are going to think, or not think, when they see you?”

I blink back at her. That was a surprisingly insightful speech. Not that I think Nova isn’t smart—I know she is—but she brought up a point I’d never considered before.

“So here.” Nova tosses the dress. It lands in a puddle on the covers beside me. “Try it for a night. If you hate the way wearing it makes you feel, at least you’ll know. Heck, you can go back to wearing those disgusting men’s shirts if you want. Just make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. Not to hide yourself from the world, but because you truly enjoy that style.”

I glance at Ash, and she offers me a one-shoulder shrug that seems to say,Worth a try, right?

“Besides,” Nova turns her back on us to face the mirror. She finger-combs her hair, then picks up a few strands and checks for split ends. “I’d love to see you stop dressing like an Ash clone. It’s a little too Stepford Wife for me.”

“Hey.” Ash pops up. Her back goes ram-rod straight.

Nova cocks a brow and pins us with a look through the mirror. “Sorry to break up your slumber party, Ash. But you know it’s true. Emberly isn’t a dress-up Barbie for your amusement. The girl’s got to find her own sense of style.”

“Wear something sparkly. Everyone likes sparkles.” Tinkle imparts his fashion advice with so much seriousness I have to cover my laugh with a cough.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Ash hunches and blows out a breath. The curls hanging over her forehead dance and then settle. Turning toward me, she eyes the crumpled dress in my lap and then fixes her gaze on my face. A smile spreads. “Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t still do your makeup.”

* * *

I’m totally exposed.

Okay, so technically I’m not exposed, but it sure feels that way. Even with the cropped leather jacket Nova let me borrow, I have more leg showing in public than I ever have before. I keep pulling down the hem. Nova slaps my hands away every time. I’m giving this dress a chance, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t me.

What I am digging though are the black fringed ankle boots Ash let me use. The studded heels push my height well over six feet. I only teeter-totter a bit when I walk, and they make me feel like a rocker chick, which I’m surprised to find I like.

I pull the jacket tighter around my middle as a gust of frigid mid-western wind blows my hair behind me in a blonde and red tornado.

The ends of this stupid jacket barely touch together at my chest. Why would Nova buy something this impractical? Thank goodness for heated angel blood or I’d be a popsicle right now.

“Like we discussed, the guys are already inside.” Ash adjusts a curl at her temple as we round the building. Parking was in the back, and it’s a trek to the club entrance. We’re lucky the night isn’t as cold as the one before.

“I still think we should have told the guys we were coming. It’s not like they could physically bar us from following them.” I eye the long line of people waiting to be let into the club. Oh joy. I try hard not to notice the stares we’re attracting. “Maybe we should try one of the other entrances. We don’t want to draw too much attention.”

Nova snorts beside me. “Like where we enter is going to make a difference. We’re going to draw eyes either way. We look a-maz-ing.”

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