The floor length crimson dress was strapless and felt like overkill when I was this tired from traveling all day. My hair was down in curls around my face, sections of it had been braided with red ribbon, and mixed in with the curled locks. The red made the blonde ends stand out a little more starkly. My heels were only a couple inches, and the straps wrapped up my calves. Two slits up the sides of the dress exposed a strip of my legs on either side. I fought with the dress for a moment in the mirror to cover the black runes on my hip, but no matter what way I tried to maneuver the fabric, it would show a little of the dark markings on my leg.
The runes were usually dismissed as tattoos when they were seen, and yet I still struggled to cover them. Frustration was bordering on rage as I glared at the dark marks in the mirror.
"Wear the black." A voice in the doorway noticed my struggle. I looked in the reflection of the mirror, catching Michael's gaze there. He wore an all-black three piece suit. His eyeliner made his eyes appear more almond shaped, narrowed and sharp. He leaned against the doorframe.
"Red is my color." I stopped messing with adjusting the dress. "Occultare." I muttered the glamour spell and the dark runes on my thigh immediately vanished from sight. I turned around, facing Michael. "Where's Castor?"
"Across the street. We're late."
"I'm Alice Mikaelson. The party doesn't start without me." I teased. The vampire walked further into the spatial room. He extended a hand towards me. I took it, and he spun me in the room. I smiled as he dipped me and danced with me a couple minutes in the room, no music playing.
"I'm glad we're here." He told me.
"Me too." I replied, but my heart wasn't in it. New Orleans was a completely different battleground. I didn't know what the next few months would bring. The home we'd stay in was tiny compared to the palace we had come from. In such close quarters, tensions between Castor and Aleksandr may rise. That was a small part of it. The home was across the street from the compound, accessible day and night to my family. A family that has a history of sticking their noses in my business.
We've had to consolidate domestic personnel. There were no longer vampires to wait on us every moment of every day. We'd be ordinary people again. We were in a city that never sleeps. A city where there was always something to do. We haven't been here for more than a few hours and I already longed for the picnics in Saint Petersburg. I already missed my mornings in the banya. I missed the stuffy stuck-up vampires of Russia and the way their mannerisms clashed so harshly with the hybrids.
There was security living in New Orleans. My family would go to the ends of the earth for me. But I had established another family. I had a clan of vampires and hybrids loyal to me. Dozens of vampires with extensive skill sets, at my disposal. The comfort of my life at Saint Petersburg felt like it was slipping through my fingers with every passing moment I spent in the states.
No one around me seemed to notice. Suddenly, it was only me, trying to wade through the muggy pollution and smog. Everyone else could see clearly. I mourned Saint Petersburg like a lover, while everyone around me moved on like New Orleans was a new marriage.
"Let's go." Michael placed a kiss to the top of my hand, and led the way out of the house.
The compound was ornate, decorated and lively with entertainment, caterers, and the sort of dresses and suits befitting a formal Mikaelson affair. As I entered, the music shifted to something slightly dark and very uniquely me. The crowd seemed to thin slightly, as my appearance didn't go unnoticed. And in the center of the compound, my family turned from their conversation and looked over at me, small smiles adorning their faces. Rebekah, Elijah, Hayley, Kol, Freya, Marcel, Hope, and my father.
