Page 43 of Sacrifice

“What’s that?”

“Sorry. I keep forgetting there’s all these things you’ve never heard of,” he said. “ATM stands for ‘automatic teller machine’. You put your bank card in, and it gives you money.”

My eyes widened. “However much you want?”

“Not exactly. It depends how much money you have in your account. Some people don’t have as much as others.”

“Oh.” It suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have any money, let alone an account, or any kind of identifying documents that would likely be required to create one.

Sebastian correctly read the expression on my face and squeezed my leg again. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get everything sorted out for you eventually,” he said. “I have more than enough to take care of you for as long as you need, anyway.”

“Thank you.” I spotted a sign on the edge of the street that said ‘ATM’. “Is that the machine you need?”

“Yup. But I’ll probably have to go somewhere else, because there’s nowhere to park.” He frowned. “That’s one of the first things you’ll realize about this city. There are never any fucking parking spots available.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s so crowded.”

As I spoke, someone pulled out of a parking spot just ahead of us, and Sebastian’s brows shot up. “I spoke too soon,” he said, grinning. “You’re my good luck charm, Rose.”

Once he’d stopped the car, he turned to look at me. “I’ll only be gone for a couple of minutes. Don’t open your door or window for anyone, okay?”

“Okay.”

True to his word, he returned in two minutes, holding several stacks of thin, rectangular pieces of paper. Each of them was a pale green color, covered in strange, intricate markings.

“That’s what money looks like?” I said, gingerly taking one of the stacks as he held it out to me.

“Yup. I took out a fuck-ton, because my father will probably have someone tracing my cards now, so I don’t want to use them anymore. This’ll be the last time.” He started the car again and pulled back onto the busy street. “You ready to go shopping?”

“For what?”

He grinned at me. “You’ll need some things to wear. So will I, seeing as I can’t go home right now.”

“Oh.” I glanced down at my dress. “I suppose people here would find my clothing a little strange, wouldn’t they?”

“Probably. Then again, it’s New York. Your outfit wouldn’t even be the fifth weirdest thing most people here have seen in the last hour,” he said, still wryly grinning.

Half an hour later, we stepped into an enormous building, which Sebastian referred to as a department store. I instantly felt like I’d stepped into another world. The air was thick with a kind of luxury I’d never imagined before, with a wonderfully fragrant scent drifting through the space. The floors gleamed beneath my feet, and everywhere I turned, there were shelves filled with things I couldn’t even name—shimmering fabrics draped across mannequins, delicate glass bottles in various colors, and jewelry that caught the light and threw it back in dazzling flashes.

The ceilings stretched high above us, with crystal light fixtures sparkling like suspended stars. People moved around with quiet purpose, their clothes immaculate, their steps as light and graceful as the soft classical music that played faintly in the background. I couldn’t help but stare at them. They, alongwith everything else in this place, seemed so far removed from anything I’d ever known.

I stayed close to Sebastian, clutching his arm. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

“Welcome to Elysian House. Can I help you?” A slightly nasal feminine voice addressed us from our left, and I turned to see a smiling woman with dark curls and sparkling brown eyes.

Sebastian nodded. “We’re looking for a personal shopper,” he said. “Someone to help my girlfriend pick out some new clothes.”

“I can certainly help with that,” the woman said, eyeing me. “My name is Aimee, by the way. What sort of clothes are you looking for today?”

“Um…” I gnawed at the inside of my cheek, utterly clueless as to what I should say.

“Basically everything,” Sebastian said. “Some casual things, and some nicer outfits too. Shoes, socks, pajamas, and underwear as well. Her apartment flooded last night, so she’s lost almost everything she had before.”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry to hear that. You poor thing!” Aimee said. She eyed my faded old dress again. “Is this, er… all that survived the flood?”

“No, this is a costume from her set,” Sebastian said smoothly. “She’s an actress. Right now, she’s working on a historical drama. Sort of like Little House on the Prairie.”

Aimee’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow! That sounds amazing. I love period dramas,” she said. “What’s it called? I’d love to check it out.”

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