Toxic (Denazen #2)(79)

When I finally managed to get my eyes just right, I moved onto my lips. The top one blood red, while the bottom turned white. The next attempt yielded even freakier results. An almost tie-dyed effect in shades of brown and tan. Circus lips. Change the color and add a red nose, and I could have passed for the Bride of Bozo.

After I nailed the makeup, it was time to deal with the clothes. The black jeans had to go. They were cool but not the look I was aiming for. The model I’d used for the makeup was wearing a killer red leather skirt and some pretty drool-worthy boots, but I was in a pants mood. Easier to move around without the worry of having a Paris Hilton flashing fiasco.

I flipped to the end, disappointed, and closed the magazine. About to go with something from my old wardrobe, I saw it. The girl on the back cover. The ultimate party outfit. It was an ad for a place called Shocking the House. Placing my hands flat on my thighs, I stared at the page. The pants came in two colors—black and brown. I focused on the brown. Snug around the thigh and knee, then straight down with the tiniest of tapers. They closed in the back—laced over the curve of my butt and tied in an elaborate bow that hung down several inches. The front formed a deep V that came several inches below my belly button.

The next part sucked. Normally I’d go straight into heartbreaker mode. Something tight that showed a dangerous amount of skin—the corset top the model had on was perfect—but the poison was too noticeable now. I had an idea, but wasn’t sure I could pull it off. If it worked, I had a killer future in fashion design.

I pictured my favorite red silk shirt, remembering the feel of the material against my skin. Smooth and slippery. How it draped my shoulders and fluttered slightly whenever I moved. It had a thin ribbon in the back that tied to make the shirt fitted. That ribbon had always been my favorite part. Now, with any luck, it’d become something even better.

I focused on the model’s corset, pictured the ribbon tied by a thin string at my wrist and winding—slightly thicker—up my left arm. It thinned again at my neck, wrapping around like a choker before diving south and diagonally skimming the top of my chest at the perfect semi-cleavage-baring angle. On the right side, the ribbon thinned to the width of a shoelace, winding in an artfully intricate pattern down my arm, and tying to match the other side.

The bodice of the shirt fused with the ribbon seamlessly and ended just above my waist. The gap between the edge of the shirt and the waist of the low-cut leather pants showed just enough pale skin to be sexy but not enough to be trashy.

I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. One last thing. Touching the tips of my hair, I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I couldn’t help but gasp. It was the opposite of when I’d met Kale. Black with blonde streaks. Other than the brown I’d gone with for Sumrun, I’d never dyed my whole head. I’d always been blonde with a splash of color. The change was drastic and a little bit of a shock to my system, but I liked it.

Dramatic with an almost tortured feel. Dark.

It suited my mood—and my future.

…

I’d used napkins on the way out to make some quick cash. The Rockies wasn’t far, but I’d opted to go with a slight heel—nothing like the shoes I’d worn to homecoming—on my boots and figured my feet would appreciate the bus ride. That, and the pain in my shoulder had spread. I ached all over now. It sapped my energy and made simple things like walking harder than they should be.

“Ginger’s not too thrilled with you,” Paul said as I approached the building. The outside was covered in faux rock and had two mannequins scaling either side of the sign advertising The Rockies. I’d come here a few times with Alex and had always been afraid those stupid things would fall on me as I entered the building.

I shrugged. “Nothing new about that. Everyone here?”

“Sue and Ginger got here five minutes ago. Your boy’s been here awhile.”

I didn’t correct him. Kale wasn’t really my boy anymore, was he?

Paul grabbed my arm as I passed. His fingers dug into my skin, and I had to bite down to keep from crying out. “They’re going to rip you apart to see what makes you tick.”

My heart just about stopped. “What?”

Paul stood, yanking me closer. “Denazen. They’re going to lock you up, then slice you open. Pull out your bits and put them on display.”

I jerked myself free and stumbled back. “What the hell?”

He blinked. He was sitting back on the steps, his hands nowhere near me. “I said, are you okay?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile. The hallucinations had started. “’Course. Why?”

He shrugged. “Just look a little paler than usual. Must be the hair.” He winked. “Hot, by the way.”

I flashed him one final smile and pushed my way inside. Like always, the place was party heaven. Flashing lights danced across the walls as bodies packed the center of the room, swaying and thrashing to the beat. I’d never asked, but I wondered who set these things up. Every night it was a different location, yet each one was always just as awesome as the last.

“You never listen, do you?” Alex said, stepping into my path. Then he must’ve gotten a good look. His mouth fell open, hazel eyes roaming my body from toe to blonde tips. “You look—”

“Amazing? Of course. Sucks to be you right now, huh? Missing out on such amazingness?”