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Perhaps it’s because tonight people can see him.

Ever since the two of us walked out of my dorm room, people have come to a grinding halt. Callypso Lillis, the pretty but weird outsider, is going to May Day Ball, and the man taking her is ababe. At least that’s what I assume they’re thinking based on their wide eyes and lingering looks.

It could also be the fact that Des simply looks like trouble, with his staggering frame and rakish features. His tattoos are hidden, but there’s no masking the edgy vibe he’s giving off.

We make it up to the entrance and hand our tickets over, and then we’re inside.

I can feel dozens of eyes on us, and I realize I’m beginning to tremble from the attention. This is high school, where students excel at making undesirables feel invisible. I’d been invisible for so long, and that was fine with me. So fine.

But tonight I can already tell no one’s going to ignore me. Not with my beautiful and dangerous date at my side. And not while I wear this dress, with its choker of diamonds that holds the fitted silver silk taut against my body. The backless expanse of it dips to just past the small of my back. More strings of diamonds trail down my spine, holding the edges of the silk in place. The hem of the gown drags against the ground. It’s a dress a celebrity should wear, or a queen—or a fairy. Not me.

But I really didn’t have a choice in the end. It’s not like my closet came pre-stocked with prom dresses. And this was the one Des procured for me.

We’re only inside the school’s ancient ballroom for a minute before Trisha, one of the girls on my floor, approaches me.

“Callypsie!” she squeals and, ugh, shoot me now, that nickname needs to die.

“Callypsie?” the Bargainer says under his breath.

“Don’t,” I warn. “If you care for your balls at all,don’t.”

At the beginning of the year, one of the girls on my floor started calling me that, because for whatever reason Callie wasn’t a good enough nickname, and it just never fucking went away.

The Bargainer snickers. “Whatever you say … Callypsie.”

I don’t have time to make good on my threat before Trish is on me.

“I didn’t realize you were coming!” she says, pulling me in for a hug.

This is awkward. Trish is one of those girls that I must’ve pissed off at one point in time because her hobbies include studiously ignoring me.

Except for right now.

I pat her back, willing her to release me so I can understand what sort of hex has been put on her to make her address me. And asCallypsie, of all things. I thought she’d missed that nickname during all that time she pretended I didn’t exist.

And then she turns to the Bargainer, andholy shit, she is giving him one hell of a predatory look.

I move a little closer to him. I find I don’t really like sharing Des. It’s a pretty illusion to believe that he’s mine and mine alone, but amongst this crowd he might as well be. No one here knows him, no one here has seen him orchestrate a deal or collect repayment. No one has drunk and played poker with him, or sipped tea and chatted over pastries with him. No one has had movie marathons or heart-to-hearts with him. No one here knows that he’s kind and cruel and wicked and funny and everything in between.

But the way Trisha’s staring at him, like if she had five minutes alone with him she could win him over, it’s making me question my decision to come to the dance. Because maybe five minutes is all it would take. I really don’t know, and I’m afraid to find out.

“Um,” I say, “this is my date—”

“Dean,” the Bargainer fills in for me, extending his hand.

Trish looks moonstruck as she takes his hand. I seriously hope I don’t wear that expression around Des.

I probably do.

“How do you and Callie know each other?” she asks as Des releases her hand. She smiles shyly, like she’s some coquettish little flower. I can’t decide if I want to smirk or grimace at that.

I turn to Des, and I’m so scared he’s going to tell the truth.

Oh Callie and I met right after she murdered her stepfather. She’s quite vicious if you really get to know her …

Des drapes his arm around my waist and looks at me fondly. “I saved her life—at least that’s how she puts it, isn’t it, cherub?” He gives me a little squeeze as he does so.

His eyes twinkle as I gaze up at him. The man is definitely playing us up and having entirely too much fun doing so.