"That’s comforting."

"I’d avenge you, though." She lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. "I’d wear the succubus costume to your funeral."

"That’s... wildly inappropriate."

"I know." She grinned wickedly. "You’d haunt me forever for it."

I couldn’t help but laugh. This girl was ridiculous, standing here in a vampire maid costume talking about wearing sexy outfits to my acid-dissolution funeral.

"You’re something else, Valentine."

"I know." She looked pleased with herself. "That’s why you like me best."

"I never said that."

"You didn’t have to." She tapped her chest, right over her heart. "I can feel it. Right here."

"That’s your lung."

"Wow. Romance truly is dead." She sighed dramatically. "And here I thought becoming a vampire would make you more passionate, not less."

"I haven’t become anything."

"Not yet." She winked. "But the transformation takes time. First comes the mark." She touched my neck again. "Then comes the thirst."

"I am pretty thirsty," I admitted. "But I’m thinking water, not blood."

"Boring." She rolled her eyes. "Fine, go drink water like a normal person instead of embracing your new vampire nature."

"Thanks for the permission."

"You’re welcome!" She beamed, completely missing or ignoring my sarcasm. "But don’t think this means you’re off the hook for the butler costume. I already have your measurements from Mr. Bellamy."

Of course she did. "When’s this festival anyway?"

"Two weeks from now! It’s going to be amazing. We’ll have the vampire butler and maid cafe, a haunted house, a fortune-telling booth—it’s going to be so fun!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious. I found myself smiling despite the absurdity of the situation.

"I should go check on Iris," I said.

"She’s fine. Last I saw, she was in the kitchen convincing Chef Laurent to teach her how to make chocolate soufflé." Harlow smiled. "She really is the sweetest."

"She’s manipulative is what she is," I grumbled. "Abandoning me to your costume ambush."

"She loves you," Harlow said simply. "She wants you to be happy."

"By throwing me to the wolves?"

"Vampires," she corrected. "And I’m hardly a wolf."

She was right about that. If anything, Harlow was more like sunshine personified—warm, bright, and capable of burning you if you got too close.

"I still need to find her," I insisted. "We need to head home soon."

Harlow’s face fell. "Already? But you still have time with Sabrina!"

"She canceled, remember?"

"Oh." Harlow brightened. "Then you can spend that time with me instead!"

"I need to get my stuff together. And make sure Iris is ready to go."

"But—"

"Harlow." I cut her off gently. "I really do need to leave soon."

Her shoulders slumped slightly. "Fine. But you’ll come back soon, right? And you’ll actually wear the butler costume for the festival?"

"I said I would, didn’t I?"

"Yes, but sometimes people say things to make me stop talking, and then they don’t actually mean it."

The matter-of-fact way she said it made something in my chest tighten. I squeezed her hand.

"I meant it. I’ll wear the costume."

Her smile returned full force. "Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good!" She bounced on her toes again, the motion doing dangerous things to her costume’s neckline. "I’ll walk you to the kitchen. I want a cookie anyway."

She started pulling me down the hallway, still holding my hand. I followed, not bothering to point out that she was still in full vampire maid regalia.

"You know you’re still in costume, right?"

"Duh." She glanced back at me with a grin. "I need to get used to it for the festival."

"You’re going to give the staff heart attacks if you walk around like that."

"Mrs. Tanaka has seen worse," Harlow assured me. "You should have seen the Sailor Moon costumes Cassidy and I made when we were fourteen. We didn’t understand proportions yet."

The mental image of fourteen-year-old Harlow and Cassidy in too-small Sailor Moon outfits was not something I needed in my head.

"I’m surprised Vivienne let you wear that around the house."

"Oh, she didn’t know. She was at a business conference with Mother." Harlow’s voice took on a wistful quality. "It was just us and Sabrina. We had a whole cosplay fashion show for the staff. Mrs. Tanaka made us rice balls shaped like Luna."

The mention of Vivienne and their mother sobered me. I was walking through their house holding Harlow’s hand after she’d given me a very visible hickey. If Camille Valentine saw us now, I’d be fired instantly and probably blacklisted from every job in the tri-state area.

I tried to pull my hand away, but Harlow’s grip tightened.

"Don’t," she said softly. "Please? Just a little longer?"

"Your mother—"

"Isn’t here." She turned to face me, walking backward down the hallway. "She won’t be back until tomorrow night."

"That doesn’t mean this is a good idea."

"It’s just holding hands, Isaiah." Her eyes searched mine. "It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me."

Put like that, it seemed silly to argue. We were just holding hands. Compared to everything else that had happened in this house over the last twenty-four hours, this was practically innocent.

"Fine," I conceded. "But if your sisters see—"

"They already know I like you," she interrupted. "I told you, we’re all competing. There’s no secrets between us."

That seemed... unlikely. But Harlow looked so certain that I didn’t argue.

"Whatever you say, Valentine."

"That’s right." She grinned. "Whatever I say. And right now, I say we get cookies and find your sister."

She tugged me forward again, and I let her lead me through the mansion’s winding hallways toward the kitchen. With her cape flowing behind her and her pink-streaked hair bouncing with each step, she looked like something out of a fantasy—the vampire princess and her reluctant companion.

Except I wasn’t all that reluctant. That was the problem.

The mark on my neck throbbed slightly, a reminder of what had just happened.

What might have kept happening if I hadn’t stopped her.