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A couple of men from the Paris Syndicate arrived soon after, along with two more thralls. I nodded to the vampires, both of whom I knew slightly, and tried not to watch the door.
“Princess Zoe,” the larger man said. “A pleasure to see you again.”
I smiled and fished his name from my brain. “And you, Samir.”
I exchanged air-kisses with him and the other man, keeping a wary eye on the door. When my mother still didn’t appear, I released a slow breath.
“You are traveling by yourself?” Samir asked. Something about the way he looked me up and down made me believe that news of my supposed mating with Étan had reached him as well.
Anger pushed through my uneasiness. Victorine had promised the choice was mine. If this subtle pressure was her way of making me accept Étan, she was going to be disappointed.
“Shopping,” I returned coolly. “Paris has the best selection,n’est-ce pas?”
“But of course.”
The pianist seated herself at the grand piano. I excused myself to Samir and moved to where Aubin was pouring drinks.
I waved a hand at my jeans and T-shirt. “Is the magic closet still where it used to be?”
“It is. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll escort you.”
“Thanks, but I know where it is.” I escaped into the hall.
Rafe waited, hands behind his back, the perfect bodyguard. But his eyes were alive with excitement, his body practically vibrating with tension.
I blew out a breath. A cowardly part of me wanted to call everything off and get the hell out of the mansion, but I was committed now. I wasn’t leaving until I knew one way or the other.
Ineededto know the truth.
“Philippe has invited me to stay,” I said, “but I need a dress.”
I headed down the hall. Rafe would understand.
So far, things had gone as planned. To get to the lower levels, I had to evade security, and the only way to do that was in the shadow dimension. But security couldn’t see me disappear.
The plan depended on me entering the shadows undetected in a room with no cams, such as a dressing room. Then I’d leave through the open door, leaving Rafe standing guard. To anyone monitoring the security cameras, it would appear I was still in the dressing room.
Most visitors couldn’t have gotten away with it; someone would’ve been assigned to accompany them everywhere in the mansion. But I was Zoe Tremblay. Philippe’s people would never suspect me of evading security.
The “magic closet” wasn’t actually a closet. It was more like an exclusive boutique with clothes for both men and women in a rainbow of colors and sizes.
More importantly, it had two dressing rooms.
I selected a couple of short black dresses in my size and took them into the nearest dressing room, leaving the door ajar. I knew I didn’t have much time. I hung the dresses on a hook, faded into the shadows, and sprang into action, darting through the open door past Rafe and down the hall to the staircase.
I made it down the two sets of stairs to the lowest level in under three seconds. The door at the bottom was closed, but I’d expected that.
I flicked out of the shadows and slapped my hand on the door, tripping the sensor. A fraction of a second later, I was back in the shadows.
A uniformed guard appeared, a gold griffin embroidered over his heart. I plastered myself to the wall, praying he wouldn’t sense me.
The guard glanced around, eyes narrowed. I dug my fingers into my palms, willing him to open the door.
“Nobody’s here,” he said into his earpiece.
“Better check anyway,” came the reply.
I watched over his shoulder as he keyed in a five-digit code. The door swung open and he entered, me on his heels.
