"Literally or figuratively?"
Roslyn stared at me. "Both. One of my girls had rope burns for a week after paying him a visit."
I filed the information away. "What else?"
"He also likes to wear chaps, a cowboy hat, and his boots when he fucks."
"Sounds like a kinky bastard to me," Finn said.
The vampire walked over to a different rack of clothes than the one Finn had been rifling through. "Unfortunately, not as kinky as some I've seen and done."
Roslyn flipped through the clothes for a moment before turning back to me. "I assume you'll want something with a little coverage to it. Where you can stash certain... supplies?"
Weapons, in other words. "Yeah. The more coverage the better. I like to be prepared."
Roslyn nodded. "Any particular color you'd prefer?"
"Black."
"Shocking," she muttered.
After a few minutes, Roslyn pulled a black pushup bra and a set of sheer matching panties off the rack. She handed them to me. "Put those on."
I did as she asked. The garments fit perfectly, and the bra pushed my small breasts up to new, gravity-defying heights. Finn let out a whistle of appreciation. I drew my finger across my throat, showing him exactly what would happen if he didn't shut up. Finn just grinned at me.
Roslyn also plucked a black cocktail dress out of the mass of clothes and handed it to me. I slipped into the fabric. The dress was long-sleeved with a sweetheart neckline and bustier-like top. Thanks to the bra, my cleavage swelled on either side of the fabric. The skirt was a mass of black crinoline with tiny sequins sewn into it. The garment stopped just above my knees.
"How's that?" Roslyn asked.
I looked at myself in a mirror over one of the vanity tables. The sleeves were loose enough for me to carry my knives, and I could strap a couple more to my thighs underneath the billowing skirt. "Perfect."
Roslyn nodded, like she'd expected nothing else, and sashayed over to one of the vanity tables. She handed me a box that read Contacts - Sky Blue, and a long, curly, blond wig with teased bangs. "With the wig, contacts, and enough makeup, you'll be Dawson's dream girl. I assume you can do your own makeup."
"I think I can manage."
Roslyn ignored my sarcasm. She opened a drawer on one of the vanity tables, drew out an envelope, and handed it to me. A sunburst done in gold foil glittered on the creamy stationery. The rune for fire - Mab Monroe's personal symbol.
"That's one of the invitations for tonight," Roslyn said. "You'll need this too."
She reached back into the drawer and pulled out a black velvet choker. A rune dangled from the middle of the wide band - a silver heart with an arrow through it. The symbol for Northern Aggression. The rune that would mark me as one of Roslyn Phillips's girls and part of the evening's entertainment.
I took the choker from her and rubbed my thumb over the rune. The metal felt cool under my fingers. "Thank you, Roslyn, for your help."
She stared at me. "No thanks are needed, remember? I owe you. But when the other girls come in to get ready for tonight, we're going to report that invitation, necklace, outfit, and wig as being stolen. Xavier will take down the report. Of course, he'll be busy working the door tonight, so he won't call to tell me about it or even turn it into the cops for a couple hours. That should give you plenty of time to do whatever you're planning to do."
I nodded. I couldn't blame the vampire for covering herself. If things went badly, and they just might, Tobias Dawson and Mab Monroe would probably come knocking on Roslyn's door, demanding to know why I'd been wearing one of the vampire's rune necklaces and how I'd snitched one of the hookers' invitations to the party. This way, Roslyn had an out.
"And do me another favor," the vampire said, her dark eyes serious behind her silver glasses.
"What?"
"Whatever you're going to do to Dawson tonight, don't get caught," Roslyn said. "I don't want to have to deal with the honky-tonk bastard any more than I already have."
I gave her a cold smile. "Don't worry. If I get caught, Tobias Dawson will be having too much fun with me to even think about bothering you."
Chapter Twenty-Five
At eight o'clock that evening, my taxi pulled into the long, snaking driveway that led up to Mab Monroe's mansion.