House of Cards by Ilana Waters Read Free Book Online Page B

use. And she wasn’t entirely sure the faucets and other fixtures weren’t made of pure gold.
    There was a large cupboard at the other end of the room. Sherry approached it, but was hesitant to open the doors. What if it contained more dead-people clothing, similar to the bedroom wardrobe? Eventually, curiosity got the better of her.
    Her jaw dropped as she surveyed the contents. Towels of astonishing softness. Essential oils. Triple-milled soaps. Mountains of decadent bubble baths, and rich, creamy lotions. An enormous palate of eye makeup, facial powder, brushes, and combs. Expensive French perfumes. She picked up one of the glass vials and considered indulging in its clinging, heady scent. Then she realized it might make her smell even more appetizing to the vampires, and hastily put it back.
    There was also an enormous assortment of candles of all shapes and sizes, both scented and unscented. Sherry wasted no time in putting down the candelabra and distributing her new light sources throughout the room. When she’d finished arranging and lighting each taper and votive, there were candles absolutely everywhere. It looked like a romance novel had exploded in the restroom.
    Twenty minutes later, she’s finished her bath. She wrapped the towel around her torso and retrieved makeup necessities from the cupboard. Might as well look her best when meeting up with her “hosts” again. Sherry wanted them to enjoy her appearance enough to keep her around. Too proud to show them she was beaten, the fortune-teller still cared about how she looked. If she was going to die, she was going to look damn good doing it. At this point, maintaining a decent exterior was the last, tiny bit of dignity she could preserve.
    And the Master said she wasn’t beautiful. What an ass, she thought, as she dusted her cheeks with blush. He was right, of course, but still. What a nasty thing to say to someone, especially when you’re about to kill them. Insult to injury and all that. Of course, he was a psychopath, so his judgment was probably off about a lot of things. She ran a brush through her shoulder-length hair, giving it a few extra strokes in defiance.
    She walked out of the bathroom and stopped short. Across the bed lay a funky sweater dress—black, with dark multi-colored stripes running horizontally across. Sherry quickly looked around, but there was no one else there. Unless vampires had the ability to turn invisible. Oh, good Lord—had one been invisible in here when she’d taken off her clothes? Was one of them in here now? She began searching through the corners of the room, then realized how stupid that was. If they were invisible, how would she be able to see them? Unless there was another, secret entrance? That was a nerve-wracking thought. She’d ask Lucas when she saw him next. He seemed more trustworthy than the others, at least at the moment.
    Since the room was absent of any measurable vampire activity, and Sherry did need something to wear, she tried on the sweater dress. A perfect fit. She still felt a bit cold, even though the dress was very warm. She looked around and saw, on the bed, a pair of black stockings and a dark purple scarf. She put them on, along with the boots she’d come in with.
    Glancing into the freestanding oblong mirror, she was impressed. First, because it wasn’t as difficult to see her reflection in there as she’d initially thought. And second, because she didn’t look half bad. The dress hugged her curves in all the right places, but wasn’t overly revealing. Which was good, because she had a feeling that down here, she was at serious risk of freezing to death. The scarf covered most of her neck and shoulders, and the tights felt warm against her legs. Combined with her flat-heeled boots, she looked artistic, unique, and just a little bad-ass.
    Time to read a few cards. If someone had been in her room to bring clothing, they’d probably return to collect her soon. She swallowed hard. At