He sighed. “She will pay for what she has done.” He bent quickly to his bag and pulled out a dress of shimmering ice-blue. As he lifted it, yards of crushed silk and tulle fluffed out to reveal a gown to rival the original her mother had sent with her from Castles’.
“Oh, Gus. It is so lovely.”
“Yes, yes. Turn quickly, now.” He helped her step into it, tucking her petticoat and shift in place as he pulled it up and helped her thread her arms through the sleeves.
She winced as she looked at the bruises, cuts, and general scrapes from her fingertips to her shoulders. The dress settled into place, resting just at the edge of her shoulders, and fell below the smooth line of her collarbone. As he fastened the back buttons, the bodice tightened like a comfortable glove, and the skirts belled in perfect length to the floor.
He turned her shoulders gently to peruse his handiwork, and she glanced apologetically at her chest and arms. “I am all bruised and messy. Your beautiful dress is wasted on me.” She tried to smile but felt very much like crying. “I am not usually vain—”
“Shh, now.” Gus took her face gently in his hands. “Dearest girl, you put this dress to shame. Your wounds are evidence of your bravery and perseverance. I heard your song, I saw your efforts at the gate—you never quit. You are a warrior, and I am honored to be called your friend.” He took the glass heart pin from his jacket and pinned it to her dress, just above her own heart.
“Oh, Gus.” Tears flowed in earnest, and she hugged him gently. “You have saved me, sweet man. I thought I would die in this place.”
He patted her back and released her. “Never. You’ve a life ahead of you, and if we hurry, one very important speech to make. At least three of the gathered dignitaries are still unsure about signing the accord. The truth of Lawrence’s and the Committee’s villainy in framing the shifter community for various murders over the last months is circulating, but I do not know how many yet believe it.”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve missed some news, it seems.”
“We are in the eleventh hour and must hurry. Miss Josephine included a few items in the bag to fix your hair.” He tapped his fingertip against his lip. “Come, we shall finish your toilette in the carriage.”
She clasped his hands. “Gus, I hardly know how to—”
“Yes, dearest, hold that for later. I’ve paid a man an inordinate amount of coinage to hold a carriage outside, but we are under quite a labyrinth, and finding our way out may take time.”
“How did you find me?” She hopped over to her tattered and dirty portmanteau, determined to take it with her.
“An underground resident led me most of the way. For the remainder, I followed the sound of your voice.” He pulled a pair of shoes from his satchel and held them for a moment, studying her. “You’ll have to put these on when we get there.”
She blinked as he put the shoes back in his bag and snapped it shut. “Underground resident? People live down here?”
He nodded sadly as he offered her his arm and led her quickly from the room. “Nonaggressive vampires have been forced into hiding by the Cadre. Though, we are already seeing a shift in the public’s attitude regarding vampires like me versus the Cadre and their ilk.”
He led her along the dark corridors, and she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out at the pain in her ankle. She leaned heavily on her escort, who took the brunt of her weight. He had them turning and twisting so many times she would have been hopelessly lost even had she managed to break out of her room. The feel of the place was oppressive, heavy, and she commented on it to Gus.
He nodded. “Haunted. Which is why I could find only one person brave enough to walk me through it.”
Eventually they heard voices echoing through the corridors, and Gus walked her past people who seemed to actually live down there. She was horrified for them, and as they nodded to Gus, she said, “We must do something about this.”
He smiled and nodded back to the underground residents. “I was hoping you would feel that way.”
A cold blast of air swept through the tunnel, and he led her upward and out into the night. She turned her face to the sky. There was no rain, but she smelled it in the air. Spotty clouds shifted overhead to show a few sparkling stars blinking down at her.
“Oh, Gus, how lovely it is—”
“Yes, yes—” He clicked his pocket watch closed and nudged her ahead, mumbling an apology as she stumbled but shoving her forward at the same pace. They rounded a building to see a carriage in the street. It was made of bright, gleaming brass with jeweled handles, large windows, and a lush, red-velvet interior.
She gasped, and her heart jumped, as for a fraction of a moment she imagined it was one of the Yard’s brass carriages, which would mean Oliver was nearby. But it was too fine for common criminals. This brass carriage was fit for royalty.
He opened the carriage door and helped her climb inside. “Take us up to the castle immediately,” he told the driver. He climbed in behind Emme, and as the coach began to move forward, he once more reached inside Josephine’s magic bag of tricks. He withdrew a bag of hair-styling supplies and ordered Emme to turn in the seat.
“Quite a mass of tangles, isn’t it?” he asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Hmm. Very well, we shall use it to our advantage.”
He pieced and pinned, taking segments of knotted hair, twisting and braiding some, and before long, pronounced the result satisfactory. “The snarls
