"Well, we are Marise and Valery," I let her know with mock kindness. Mere mortals under the protection of Lycan Brothers, I don't know, a few weeks.
The woman let out a hateful, cynical "ha."
“Names are the least of them. She snapped his fingers and yelled outside, "Come in!"
A line of women entered the room. They brought everything: makeup organizers, salon chairs, styling tools, hairspray carts, blow dryers, flat irons, and drawers that contained things I didn't even know what they were. The last girl was dragging an enormous wardrobe on wheels from which hung the dresses chosen for the night. There were three in all, but the girl from Ankor was not there.
"Wait a minute, and the third girl?" Francheska asked, spinning on her feet as if the stranger had stuck to her ass and was tryin
