Glimmers of Glass (A Glimmers Novel #1: Cinderella)

Chapter 18

Guilt made people do stupid things. I couldn't believe just how stupid until I was actually standing inside Gilt with Imogen on one side and Elle on the other. Imogen kept sending me wide-eyed looks, every one of them asking Are you out of your mind?

Maybe I was. This would probably cost me my job. But I didn't care. I didn't care so much I hadn't bothered to pull the hood of my jacket up over my head, even though it had started to rain. It was a pretty lame attempt at badassery, but I didn't care about that either.

Trying to juggle everything wasn't working, and hadn't been from the beginning. Maybe being told I could be the next Faerie Queen had given me an extra shot of confidence, or maybe I was just so bad at the godmothering thing that I'd hit the far edge of desperation.

Whatever it was, I'd decided: If I was going to be a faerie godmother, I was going to do it my way, and that meant letting Elle know exactly who I was to her.

Imogen had made us both dress up for the occasion. She was in tight jeans and a sparkly top in exactly the shade of baby blue that made her skin look like cream and rose petals. She'd talked me into borrowing a flouncy skirt and low-cut silver top. Elle had flatly refused to borrow anything, but, upon being told we were going to a fancy club, had showed up in tight leather pants and a corset top that made her look like she'd stepped out of a big-budget comic book movie.

"Part of my steampunk costume," she'd explained.

"Of course it is," I'd said, then been shut up by her reminder that she didn't have to be there.

Gilt was tucked into a corner of downtown Portland. We entered through a plain back door that looked like it was only there for deliveries to the restaurants on either side. We flashed our ID cards at the bouncer, flipping our hands over the way Kyle had done when I'd first met him. Elle eyed my palm suspiciously, but seemed to conclude it was a clever magic trick. "She's with us," I said, nodding toward Elle.

The bouncer was a skinny girl in her early twenties who looked like she couldn't knock out a fly, but I knew better. Her aura was laced with maroon dots floating like stars around her. She was the kind of skilled magician I didn't want to cross. She waved us in.

"Great security," Elle said, raising her eyebrow back at the girl as we passed. I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic.

The door led straight to a flight of stairs, the walls papered in silvery green and lit by small teardrop-shaped crystal lamps. It was unexpectedly classy.

"I thought this was a restaurant," Elle said.

"Downstairs is," Imogen said. "The top floor's ours."

We stepped off the wide landing, through a door, and into one of the most decadent rooms I'd ever seen.

"I didn't realize you guys were rich," was Elle's first comment.

I looked around the room. "I didn't realize we were, either," I said. I'd never been any place this elegant except for the Waterfall Palace. I'd given Imogen a full description of the palace already, hoping it would make up for my lackluster explanation of my conversation with Amani. This club didn't quite put it to shame, but I was surprised and a little weirded out by how close it came.

The first thing I noticed was the walls. They were the same silvery herb color of the hallway, accented here and there with gold leaf. The trim around the room was brushed in gold, as were the crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, the tables that lined the edge of the dance floor, and the mostly-empty dance floor itself. I was wearing the nicest clothes Imogen owned and still felt wildly underdressed.

"This is so much better than I imagined," Imogen hissed in my ear. She was practically glowing as she waved across the room at someone.

"Who's that?" I said.