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Chapter One
Caroline
"There's no way this is going to work," I mutter to my reflection in the mirror. I've been at the Halloween Masquerade Ball for all of ten minutes…and I've spent exactly seven and a half of them in the bathroom, trying to find the courage I suddenly seem to lack.
Usually, I'm the one talking my younger sister, Kennedy, into all sorts of bad ideas. This time, she's the ringleader…and she isn't even here to see her plan through.
Which is kind of the point.
It's impossible to be two places at once. Since her Creative Writing workshop professor goes out of his way to be a jerk to everyone, she had to choose between passing his workshop or receiving credit for her volunteer hours. They call him Professor King. I think he's a despot. If she doesn't revise her story tonight, she could fail the entire workshop. If she doesn't show up at the Ball tonight, she loses the hours.
So I get to play Kennedy for a few hours…and hope no one notices that she and I look nothing alike. She may be my sister, but physically, we're polar opposites, as likely to be confused as Tinkerbell and Attila the Hun. She's still able to shop in the kid's section. With long chestnut brown hair and sparkling green eyes, she looks like a dainty little fairy. I wear a size sixteen. I also have untamable copper red hair and dark eyes. We may both be five foot two, but there is no way anyone is going to believe I'm Kennedy if they try to talk to me.
Maybe I should just make a circuit and then hide somewhere until midnight.
"Coward. It's too late to back out now," I remind myself. Not that I would have anyway. At twenty-one, it's my job to look out for Kennedy, especially now that she's at college with me. She lives in her own world most of the time. Guys are always trying to get her attention, but she never notices. She's more comfortable with her books and journals than with other people.
It annoys me that her professor treats her like he does. She's incredibly intelligent and one of the most talented writers I know. She's in her first semester, and already hates college when it should have been an amazing experience for her. If I ever run into Professor King on campus, I'm giving him a piece of my mind.
Which is probably why Kennedy goes out of her way to keep me out of his way.
Ever since we were little, it's been me and Kennedy against the world—and our older brothers. Sebastian and Killian are bossy and overprotective, which is why we live off-campus with a Rottweiler instead of in one of the dorms. But they were teenagers by the time Kennedy and I were born. When they joined the Marines, it was up to me to make sure no one messed with us. I can be stubborn and outspoken. And maybe a little bossy and overprotective too.
I also tend to be the one who gets us into trouble. It's never intentional. I'm just…passionate about certain things. Like ending homelessness and taking care of our veterans and feeding children. There are so many things I want to do in the world, I find myself impatient to get started. I jump first and ask questions later. Sometimes, it doesn't work out so well.
I have a feeling Kennedy's plan for tonight is going to go down in a blaze of glory, too.
So I might as well get on with it and enjoy the free drinks while they last, right?
Right.
I take one final look at myself in the mirror. Even I can't deny that I look like a princess instead of a curvy twenty-one-year-old college student in an elaborate Little Red Riding Hood costume. I feel like a princess in my black and red ballgown, too. The red corset top hugs my torso before flaring out at the waist into a full skirt designed to look as if it's made of red and black feathers. My normally wild hair is in an intricate up-do, with ringlets cascading from it. My red cape flows around me like the train on a wedding dress.
Even with half of my face hidden behind the dark lace demi-mask, there's no way this is going to work. But I take a deep breath and then slip out into the wide hallway, determined to see our hastily erected plan through until the end.
Strains of soft music drift down the hall, along with the murmur of hundreds of voices speaking at once. The ballroom is already packed, which should be comforting, but isn't. If anything, seeing so many people from school crammed inside makes me even more anxious.
My hands actually tremble.
I reach deep for a little more courage. If I'm lucky, no one will even know I'm here. They'll see that Kennedy's ticket was used at the door and assume she was the one who used it. All I have to do is relax and enjoy the night. Kennedy will finish her revisions and be here in time to clean up after. No one will ever know she wasn't here for the entire event; we won't get kicked out of school. Everything will be just fine.
If I keep telling myself that, it's bound to be true, right?
I snort, not so sure about that. I'm not normally an anxious person, but I feel like a little hummingbird is trapped in my chest, fluttering its wings against my breastbone. The impending sense of…something…it brings with it is disconcerting.
The door to the men's bathroom swings open as I stand there, hesitating. A man storms out like the hounds of hell are nipping at his heels. He manages to skid to a stop in his expensive dress shoes just in time to keep from plowing into me, but I lose my balance anyway. Walking in heels is a skill I haven't mastered, much to my mother's chagrin.
"Fuck," he curses, reaching out to grab me when I list to the side.
His big hands wrap around my waist, steadying me. His scent, like sage and pine needles, wafts around me, making my heart flutter. So does the way he pulls me close to his body, cradling me protectively in his strong arms. He's a lot bigger than I am, managing to completely engulf me in his shadow. He's not fat though. Just wide with broad shoulders and a tapered waist.
"My apologies, princess," he murmurs, the deep purr of his voice pouring across my senses.
I tip my head back to ask if he's all right, but the words die on my lips as soon as I actually get a glimpse of him. He looks like a true prince in his black tuxedo. His skin is flawless golden-brown, his leather-brown hair just this side of messy. A white mask obscures half of his face but does nothing to hide how handsome he is. Even with his full lips slightly pursed and his mossy eyes full of concern, he looks dashing, debonair, like someone plucked him from the pages of a Regency romance and plopped him down in the middle of our masquerade ball.
"Jesus," he murmurs, running his gaze all over me. "Did I hurt you?"
