Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

“What is this?” Banks asked Rika.

Some lady carried the tray to Rika, and she plucked a glass of champagne off. “Pick your favorite and go try it on, so she can fit it,” Rika told us.

I looked at the racks, long dresses trailing to the floor in colors of black, silver, white, and gold.

Did this mean she wanted us in gowns, as well? Or…like bridesmaids?

“Rika, these are incredible,” Banks said, guiding Winter to the dresses. “Are you sure?”

Rika didn’t answer her, just dropped her eyes to me. “I hope you find something you like.”

“I don’t think—”

“Choose,” she said, cutting off my protest.

Then she spun around with the glass in her hand as the tailor checked the fit.

I turned, watching Banks and Winter sift through the choices, smiling and giggling like teenage girls, even though I knew they were both mothers now.

What was Rika thinking? I couldn’t be a bridesmaid, which I assumed that this was all about. She would only dress her bridal party, not the guests.

Still, though… I drifted over to the racks, seeing Banks pull out a black gown and Winter trailing her hands over the different fabrics.

&n

bsp; I reached for a gold, sparkling A-line with long sleeves and a trim waist, but Alex cut me off, pulling a sheer silver off of the rack with a V-neck, spaghetti straps, and dark gray embroidery on it.

“This,” she told me.

I took it, not seeing how I could wear any underwear under this. It wasn’t see-through, but it was thin and hugged nearly every curve.

Banks and Winter disappeared into dressing rooms. I asked Alex, “Shouldn’t you be trying one on?”

“I have mine.”

Taking the dress, she led me into a small room and unhooked the white drapes, pulling them closed on us.

In minutes, we had my clothes off, heels on, and I was stepping into the gown as Alex pulled it up my body and fastened the hooks in the back. Awareness pricked at my skin as she touched me, and I worried that she was worried.

About what, I had no idea. There were too many things to count right now, but I wanted to talk to her. There were still no repercussions concerning Blackchurch, and we hadn’t heard a word about any survivors.

She hadn’t had closure with him. He could be dead.

“Margaritas and pizza tonight?” I teased.

Will would freak if I disappeared on him, but he was fine. She wasn’t.

“I’m working,” she said in a low voice, fastening the last hook.

Working… It only took a moment to click.

She had a date.

“No,” I said.

“There’s nothing wrong with what I do, Emory.”

“Is that what you told him when he tried to stop you?”