I roll my eyes. "For your information, she never said that about the cake. It was a vicious tabloid rumor, so don't you believe it," I tell her, unable to stop mirror gazing, as I recheck my makeup and pat my wig, hoping it will all stay where it's supposed to. But when I catch Riley's reflection, something about the way she looks makes me stop and move toward her. "Hey, you okay?"

She closes her eyes and bites her lip. Then she. shakes her head and says, "Jeez, would you look at us? You're dressed as a tragic teen queen, and I'd do anything just to be a teen."

I start to reach for her, but my hands fumble at my sides. I guess I'm so used to having her around that I sometimes forget how she's not really here, how she's no longer part of this world, and how she'll never grow any older, never get the chance to be thirteen. And then I remember how it's all my fault to begin with, and I feel a million times worse.

"Riley, I—" But she just shakes her head and waves her tail around.

"No worries." She smiles, floating up from the chair. "Time to greet the guests!"

Haven came with Evangeline, her codependent donor friend, who, big surprise, is dressed like a vampire too, and Miles brought Eric, some guy he knows from his acting class who looks like he might actually be pretty cute beneath that black satin Zorro mask and cape.

"I can't believe you didn't invite Damen," Haven says, shaking her head and skipping right past hello. She's been mad at me all week, ever since she learned he didn't make the list.

I roll my eyes and take a deep breath, tired of defending the obvious, of having to point out yet again how he's clearly ditched us, becoming a permanent fixture not just at Stacia's lunch table but also her desk. Procuring rosebuds from all manner of places, and how his art project, Woman with Yellow Hair is beginning to look suspiciously like her. I mean, excuse me for not wanting to dwell on the fact of how despite the red tulips, the mysterious note, and the intimate gaze we once shared, he hasn't spoken to me in almost two weeks.

"It's not like he would've come anyway," I finally say, hoping she won't notice how my voice just cracked in betrayal. ' I'm sure he's out somewhere with Stacia, or the redhead, or—" I shake my head, refusing to continue.

"Wait—red head? There's a redhead too?" She squints at me.

I shrug. Because the truth is, he could be with just about any one. All I know is that he isn't here with me.

"You should see him." She turns to Evangeline. "He's amazing. Gorgeous like a movie star—sexy like a rock star—he even does illusions." She sighs.

Evangeline raises her brows. "Sounds like he is an illusion. No one's that perfect."

"Damen is. Too bad you can't see for yourself." Haven frowns at me again, her fingers fiddling with the black velvet choker she wears around her neck. "But if you do happen to meet him, don't forget that he's mine. I called it way before I knew you."

I gaze at Evangeline, taking in her dark murky aura, fishnet stockings, tiny black boy shorts, and mesh T-shirt, knowing she has no intention of keeping any such promise.

"You know I could lend you some fangs and fake blood for your neck and you could be a vampire too," Haven offers looking at. me, her mind flip-flopping back and forth, wanting to be my friend, convinced I'm her foe.

But I just shake my head and steer them to the other side of the room, hoping she'll move on to something else and soon forget about Damen.

Sabine's talking to her friends, Haven and Evangeline are spiking their drinks, Miles and Eric are dancing, while Riley plays with the tail of Eric's whip, swinging the fringe up and down and back and forth, then looking around to see if anyone notices. And just as I'm about to give her the signal, the one that means she better cut it out if she wants to stick around, the doorbell rings, and we race each other to get it.

And even though I beat her to it, when I open the door I forget to gloat, because Damen is there. Flowers in one hand, gold-tipped hat in the other, with his hair gathered into a low ponytail, his usual sleek black clothes replaced with a frilly white shirt, a coat with gold buttons, and what can only be described as breeches, tights, and pointy black shoes. And just as I'm thinking how Miles is going to be completely envious of that costume, I realize who he's dressed as, and my heart skips two beats.

"Count Fersen," I mumble, barely managing the words.

"Marie." He smiles, offering a deep, gallant bow.

"But... it was a secret... and you weren't even invited," I whisper, peering past his shoulder, searching for Stacia, the redhead, anyone at all, knowing he couldn't possibly be here for me.

But he just smiles and hands me the flowers. "Then it must be a lucky coincidence."

I swallow hard and turn on my heel, leading him through the entry, past the living and dining rooms, and into the den, my cheeks burning as my heart beats so hard and so fast I fear it might burst through my chest. Wondering how this possibly could've happened, searching for some logical explanation for Darnen's showing up at my party dressed as my perfect other half.

"Omigod, Damen's here!" Haven squeals, arms waving, face all lit up—well, as much as a heavily powdered, fang-wearing, blood-dripping, vampire face can light up. But the moment she sees his costume, realizing he came as Count Axel Fersen, the not-so-secret lover of Marie Antoinette, her entire face dims, and her eyes turn to me, glaring accusingly.