Wonder Woman: Warbringer (DC Icons #1)(55)

“Why?” said Nim. “That clutch is perfect.”

Diana removed the lasso from the plastic bag. “I need something for my things.” Meyers and Perez would transfer the rest of their belongings, including her leathers, to the jet, but there was no way Diana was parting with her mother’s lasso or the heartstone.

“What is that?” Nim said, reaching for the golden coils. “What is it made out of?”

Diana hesitated, then let Nim run her fingers over the glimmering fibers. “It’s kind of an heirloom.”

“I mean, it’s gorgeous, but you can’t carry it around like you’re going to hog-tie the DJ.”

“It will definitely attract attention,” said Alia.

“Wait,” Nim said. “Give me that.”

Diana frowned, hesitant. “What are you going to do?”

“Eat it,” Nim said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to hurt it; just trust me.” She laid the rope on the desk and turned her back to them, making little humming noises as she worked. A moment later, she hopped onto the desk chair and held up an open-work capelet of shimmering knots. It was somewhere between a shawl and a shrug. “Turn around, you magnificent tree.”

Diana let Nim help her into the glittering creation and looked at herself in the mirror on the back of Alia’s closet door. The lasso felt cool against her skin, its weight light over her shoulders, but it glinted like gold when she moved, as if her arms had hooked a field of falling stars.

“Perfect,” said Nim with a happy sigh.

And it was. Bolder and more whimsical than anything she’d ever worn before. It was fun. She had always let her mother dictate what she wore, let her desire to belong, the wish to look like an Amazon make her choices. But tonight she could look like anything she wanted. A laugh rose in her throat, and she spun in a circle, arms out, watching the gold flash at the corner of her eye. She felt transformed.

“Nim,” said Diana happily. “You’re a genius.”

“Guilty as charged. But the hair is going up. This look needs more neck.”

Nim pinned Diana’s hair into a twist, and then they were racing down the stairs.

Meyers and Perez were waiting to escort them to the car and rode in the backseat with them the short distance to the museum.

“There it is,” Alia said, pointing through the dark glass.

Diana glimpsed the outlines of windows, high and arched, glowing with light in the gathering dusk.

Dez continued on, and Diana realized he was circling the building so they could enter away from the main doors. When they stopped, Meyers and Perez spoke briefly into their sleeves. It took a moment for Diana to understand they were wearing communication devices. They exited the car first, and Diana saw more guards at the door, but she kept close to Alia anyway. She wasn’t about to trust these men just because Jason did.

They entered a shadowy, high-ceilinged hall. In the distance, Diana could hear voices, the swell of music. She remembered being a little girl in the palace, falling asleep as the sounds of Amazon revels continued in the courtyard below. The museum felt a bit like that now, as if the adults were having a party while the rest of the building had been put to bed.

She saw two men approaching and shifted her stance so she could block their path to Alia.

“I said eight o’clock,” said Jason’s voice as he stepped into a well of light. “You—” His voice broke off abruptly as his eyes locked on Diana. There was that strange look she’d seen on male faces all morning: gaze stunned, mouth slightly ajar.

“What did I tell you?” murmured Nim. “I know what I’m doing.”

Jason had changed since they’d seen him that afternoon. He still wore a suit, but it was sleek and black, and its lapels looked almost like burnished metal. He seemed to remember himself. A scowl broke over his face. “You’re late.”

Nim shrugged. “It takes time to look this good.”

“You can work as hard as you want,” said Jason’s companion, a gangly boy with dark brown skin and hair that stood up from his crown in exuberant twists. “You’ll never be as fine as me.”

“What a surprise,” said Nim. “Theo is with Jason. It’s almost like he doesn’t have something better to do with his time.”

“Can we not start this tonight?” said Alia.

“That’s right, Nim,” Theo scolded. “Show some maturity. I don’t want you poisoning the new girl’s mind against me. Hi, New Girl.”

“Theo,” Jason said warningly.

“I just said hi! Not even hello! I kept it to one innocent syllable.”

Theo Santos was a little shorter than Jason, and far leaner. He wore a snug suit of dark-green fabric with a showy sheen, and an open expression that made him look far younger than his friend.

“I stand corrected,” Theo said, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers and rocking back on the heels of his pointy-toed shoes. “You guys are almost as gorgeous as I am.”

“Weak,” said Nim. “We’re going to need a higher caliber of compliment.”

“If I must,” Theo said as they started toward the noise of the party bracketed by Meyers and Perez. “Nim, you look like a delicious confection, a walking, talking—probably poisonous—petit four.”