Page 87 of Virgin Sacrifice

“Ugh, fine.” He pouted.

“I know she is definitely not who she says she is. Luz Amelia Torres from Almeda, Texas, doesn’t exist before 2013, although I haven’t figured out who she was before that. Whoever forged her identity did excellent work, and honestly, I got bored with the whole paper trail thing before I could see it through and figured it was really more of an Alister job anyways.”

“And you didn’t think that was worth sharing with the rest of us?” Lucian gritted out impatiently.

“I wasn’t the one tasked with finding out more about her,” he replied with a haughty shrug.

My cousin pinched the bridge of his nose. You could practically see his headache forming in real time. “Is there anything else we should know about this Luz?”

Everest started rattling off facts, using his fingers to count them off.

“Hmmm, she genuinely likes the Morgan girl . . . She’s faking her friendship with the dude that’s always following them around and his sidekick . . . She prefers running the trails in the forest behind Hollow Oak to hitting the gym . . . She stabbed Nix in the hand with her favorite gold mechanical pencil . . . Oh! And she’s hiding something out there. I can’t wait to find out what it is.”

“What do you mean, she’s hiding something out there?” Alister asked, sitting forward in his seat.

“Dunno yet. All I know is she worked very hard to cover up where she went during Thanksgiving weekend. It wasn’t New York, and she only left her dorm to go frolic in the deep, dark woods. What I can’t decide if she is Little Red Riding Hood or the Big Bad Wolf . . .”

“And you didn’t follow her?”

“Obviously, but she lost me pretty quickly after she left the main trail. I don’t know the last time you were out there, but there is a lot of trees. Anyways, I can’t tell you how glad I am to have this all out in the open now. Ali, Nixie, I guess you can include me in the schedule now that I don’t have to hide my presence from you. Oh, and we should definitely dig deeper into the whole false identity thing, check out that mother of hers, too.”

“Everest, enough,” Lucian snapped.

“Fine,” Everest whined like a spoiled child. “But I can tell her, right Lucian? Pretty please?”

Fucking nutjob was as audacious as he was insane.

“Absolutely not.”

“But—‍”

“No.”

At last, Everest let out a sedated sigh of defeat. “All right, but there is one last thing you should know,” he said solemnly.

Oh fuck, what now.

Everest paused dramatically before plastering what appeared to be his best attempt at pouting, a look that was entirely disconcerting given his dead eyes.

“I already texted her. Oops!”

Chapter thirty-nine

Luz

Michael Bublé’s distinctive baritone crooned smoothly from the speaker, singing about Christmas, causing me to frown. I preferred the Bing Crosby version, but this was okay. I guess.

It certainly made Autumn happy as she bobbed around her room, loudly singing as we got ready together for the party tonight. Thank goodness fashion was her thing and not music.

“Have you figured out what you’re wearing tonight, Luzie Lu?”

“If you put down the curling iron until you sober up a bit, I’ll show you,” I baited her.

The doe-eyed beauty scowled at me. “You’re no fun.” She pouted but acquiesced. The girl would do anything for her sartorial fix.

I was actually pretty pleased with my outfit. It was a beautiful vintage piece I found back in Texas, in one of those small towns rife with old oil money whose thrift stores were a hidden gem, and one of the few nice dresses I owned.

The clingy velvet dress was reminiscent of Mireille Darc’s iconic backless dress in Le Grand Blond avec une chaussure noire, except it was a plush white instead of pure black and slightly more modest. The version I was wearing still retained the turtleneck design but hit just above my knees, allowing for more mobility than Guy Laroche’s original floor-length version. I’d planned to pair it will black tights and black over-the-knee boots to complete my dreamy Christmas-chic look.

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