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“Now for the piece de resistance.” She brought out an ornate shoe box decorated with velvet flocking and opened it.
I gawked at the pink platform stilettos. “You expect me to walk in those?” I said in disbelief. “I’ll face plant. Or rather, ‘you’ll’ face plant. In public.”
Don’t get me wrong, I wore heels. I didn’t live in the flat, sensible shoes I wore to work at the library. But none of my heels looked like this. These came to a point sharp enough to be confiscated by the TSA. And they had to be at least, what, five? Six inches high?
And she’d planned on dancing in those?
We’d practiced formal dancing together, but it had been barefoot in her sunroom. I had to admit that I’d enjoyed the practice and was hoping I’d find a dance partner.
“Don’t worry,” Iris said, handing me the shoes. “I had them enchanted. It’s not one hundred percent guaranteed that you won’t fall, but they will actively help you maintain your balance.”
I took the death traps from her warily and strapped them on.They were, in fact, quite easy to walk in, between the tall platform in the front and the enchantment.
She checked her phone. “The limo is here.”
I blew out a breath. This was it. The only thing I could do now was enjoy myself.
“Eat tons of food for me, and take advantage of the open bar. I had the bodice reinforced with extra boning for a reason,” she said with a wink as she helped me down the stairs to her front door.
“Please, for twenty grand a ticket I’m eating everything I can get my hands on. I’m going to be exploding out of this dress by the end of the night.”
She laughed. “Atta girl! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
***
I’d never seen the Darlington Museum dolled up like this before. But then again, I’d only been here once before, on a really boring date. History just wasn’t my kind of nerdy. Tonight the museum was just as glamorous and glitzy as I was. They’d rolled out a literal red carpet, and cameras were flashing at the entrance.
Living in Darlington, I’d gotten used to seeing monsters in their natural forms, especially since the fall of The Wall, the ancient spell that had allowed monstrous creatures and magic to hide in plain sight. It had concealed the shifters next door, the demons across the street.
But then one day The Wall vanished without a trace, and the world saw everyone as they were. It was chaos for a while—oh boy were those interesting years. But things eventually settled down to a new normal.
Some monsters and magical folk still preferred to go about their daily lives wearing illusion spells. But here, tonight, almost everyone was in their natural form.
Some, like the wolf shifters, looked completely human; only their eyes gave them away. The stodgy wizards from the WEC, the Wizards’ Elder Council, had a table of their own. Ugh. They looked just as pretentious in person as they did on the news.
After spending a little time mixing and mingling, I found my table, which was next to the one with four massive gargoyles, a demon, and their respective mates. Shelby waved to me from her spot next to Grayson, her gargoyle husband, and I waved back. I’d already talked with them earlier. I don’t think Shelby once thought that I might not be Iris when I gushed to her about how gorgeous the dress was.
There were already two others at my table. The first was a bubbly hearth witch who introduced herself as Jia as she handed me a card that read Jia’s Juicery-Traditional Recipes Modernized.
The second was an older gentleman who wouldn’t meet my or Jia’s gaze and only replied with one-word answers. The only thing we got out of him was his name, George, and that he was an artist.
Two young guys who looked and acted like rock stars found their seats at the table and introduced themselves as the Swift Brothers. They were eagle shifters who’d recently made it big with their new single, so I gave them one of Iris’ cards, plucked from my bra because she insisted that was where she always stored them, and the brothers lit up. Apparently, they were looking for someone to manage their socials. Bingo.
Jia grabbed a card, too.
That was when everyone started asking me a billion and one questions about Iris’s work that I couldn’t answer. I tried giving them the whole let’s-just-have-fun-tonight spiel, but the conversation quickly made its way right back to “my” PR company. Crap.
“Excuse me, I think this is my seat.” The low, soft-spoken words had both the brothers and I looking up at the newest arrival.
Like many of the monsters at the gala, the satyr was in his natural form. He wore a tux jacket over his top half, and instead of pants, he had a formal loincloth. It wasn’t the same material as the tux jacket, but it coordinated well.
He wasn’t the only one in a loincloth at the event. I’d already seen two orcs in them too. I never thought I’d ever use formal and loincloth in the same sentence, but somehow, it worked.
His furry legs had been groomed to be all sleek and shiny for the occasion, and I had a sudden urge to pet them, which was just super inappropriate. I kept my eyes firmly on his face instead.
A pair of ram-like horns jutted out majestically from his temples, right behind his pointed ears. I’d never thought of horns as sexy before, but on him, they were. He had a well-trimmed goatee that accentuated his panty-dropping smile. Full, supremely kissable lips, a chiseled jawline, and broad shoulders completed the package.
That immediately had me wondering if the rumors about satyrs were true and that his other package would be just as impressive, but I refrained from checking, no matter how curious I was.
