Steph was a knockout in her regular outfit, but when she stepped out of the dressing room at Macy’s wearing a body-hugging dark green dress, she was downright jaw-dropping. Add a little more red, and with her white hair she would have been a true Christmas in July.

“Not too dressy, yet classy enough,” she spun, giving me a great view of her rear. “Yeah?”

“Perfect,” I said.

And she was. In more ways than one. It was still hard to believe the ladies were okay with our situation. I was the luckiest guy alive. To remind me in that moment, she took my hand, pulled me close, and whispered, “Did we ever make love in a dressing room?”

A woman cleared her throat as she passed, and I noticed the name tag on her shirt. Damn, caught.

“Sorry,” Steph said, laughing and kissing me briefly. “Seriously, though, should we get the dress?”

“It’s that or the mini-skirt, so… I don’t think we have a choice.”

She hit me playfully, then went back into her dressing room to get dressed again. I had picked out a dress shirt to wear with slacks—nothing crazy, but we figured I had to be a bit classier this evening than jeans with a red jacket over my white t-shirt. My normal look certainly wasn’t the type for Embassy dinner parties. If she was going to wear that dress, though, I could at least try the new look for an evening.

We exited and made our way to the car, pausing only briefly to appreciate the way the clouds streaked across the sky over the brief section of the National Mall I could make out between the buildings. Bright orange with hints of purple, the two of us there to enjoy it together.

“Can you believe it?” Steph asked.

“It’s everything I dreamed of.” I replied, opening the door of the car for her, then jogging around to my side. “Only, back in Oregon I didn’t foresee the rest of it.”

She laughed. “How could you have?”

“On that note,” I said, turning in my seat as the car revved to life. “You came out here to see me, to be part of this, I guess. But, what about your family?”

“Fake.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah… the guy I introduced you to was some guy they brainwashed or something, the woman one of the witches with the coven I was staying in. Part of me thinks the dark version of myself felt at home, since I…” She stopped, glanced out the window, and said, “Can we get going?”

“I want to hear—”

“I’ll keep talking, but think I saw someone watching us. Move it.”

No need to explain. I high-tailed it out of there, moving over toward Constitution Avenue first, as I figured the others would be less likely to cause trouble near the White House and all the security there.

“Shit, is the President…?” I started, the thought hitting me.

“A magic user?” She shook her head. “He wishes. But, a lot of the Secret Service are.”

“No way.”

“They have to be, especially when it comes to protecting against foreign dignitaries who do use magic.”

“Mind-blowing.” I glanced over, then back in the rearview mirror. No signs of trouble. “You were saying, before?”

“About my situation…” She put her hand on mine and squeezed. “Honestly, I don’t know. Was there a version of me that had parents? Laughed, played with siblings and all that? I wish I knew.”

“The memories were stolen?”

She ran her thumb along the back of my hand, considering. “I don’t think so. This feels different. Like… I simply forgot.”

I turned, but had to slam on the breaks as a light turned red. Glancing back again, I asked, “Are we in the clear?”

“Maybe I imagined it, I’m not sure.”

“You have a family now.” The words sort of spilled out, but as corny as they felt on my end, she was smiling at me.

“Thank you.”

The light turned a moment later, and we were off, making our way toward Georgetown and along Reservoir Road. We had asked for directions and been shown a map on the checkout lady’s phone at Macy’s, and since I had been able to use my powers to scan it, I had what was pretty much a GPS screen up beside me. Convenient, that.

Steph leaned back and closed her eyes. I was humored by her lack of makeup and the boots that were not at all in the style of the dress, but somehow, she made it work.

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“Do you think Aerona hates me?” Steph asked.

“Of course not.”

“I’ve noticed the way she looks at me. And you.”

I frowned. “And me?”

“She’s not certain, far as I can tell. Still trying to decide whether or not to trust you.”

“Well, if you get a chance to put in a good word…”

Steph chuckled. “Sure. With the girl who hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“No need to keep your eyes open on my account,” I said, watching her yawn.

She held her hand over her mouth, then took my hand on hers. “Sleep… sure means something else lately, doesn’t it? What with traveling in dreamland or whatever it is you do, and… so much company.”

“You miss the old days?”

She chuckled. “When I was a big fraud?”

“When you weren’t yourself. When you were controlled by someone else.”

“Right. That was… not optimal.” She pulled my hand close, kissing it. “No, I love what we have now. Back then, I didn’t have friends. Even before they took me, I never had girl friends, not like this. And they’re more than that, of course. This is a family. Something else I have had.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” I said.

“Perfect.”

As that last word rolled out of her mouth, Steph was asleep, out of it the moment I crossed into Georgetown. The drive was beautiful, and as much as I had loved having air conditioning during the day, right then I wanted to roll the window down and feel the evening air on my face. Since it would possibly wake Steph, I didn’t, instead opting to bob my head to a song playing in it. Some old ditty I’d heard once at a school party.

Passing the Georgetown bars with crowds of young college guys and girls, I was reminded how my life had taken a swift turn, and how it was never likely to be anywhere near the experience they were having or about to have. Mine was probably a thousand times better, in some ways, and a thousand times worse in others.

The sun had set, darkness taking over, and the loud thumping of bass carried through from one of the bars. I turned past a French restaurant, eyed the organic ice cream shop at the next corner, and soon pulled up along with lots of other cars next to the Embassy.

A glance out showed that this wasn’t simply some dinner event, but a full-blown party. I also noted that our outfits weren’t necessary. While some of the attendees entering the gates wore fancier clothes than ours, others sported jeans and t-shirts without worry.

“We’re here?” Steph asked, groggily.

“Yeah, but you can sleep a little more. I’ll be here, next to you.”

“Staring at me while I sleep, I bet.” She hit me. “No thanks, creep.”

I chuckled. “Having a weird dream?”

“No, but I’ve been known to act a bit goofy from time to time, notably right after waking up.”

“You’re ready for this?”

She sat up, smoothed out her dress and adjusted her tits, then smiled. “Sneak around, hope we don’t get killed, and in theory meet some mystery power-person? Sure, why not?”

“Stay alert,” I replied, and we exited, heading for the Embassy.

Passing the ticket along, we entered to find an extravagant garden with a fountain, sculptures with spheres and whatnot that reminded me of butt beads, and a food stand near one of the entrances where a man and woman were preparing crepes. Moving around the corner, we found another one with champagne, along with an area where several people—mostly college age—were starting to dance. A D.J. had her booth set up over by the grassy hill where others were milling about, eating their crepes and whatnot.

“This is so not what I expected,” Steph admitted.

“My exact thoughts,” I replied, and motioned inside. “Let’s see what the deal is.”

The inside of the Embassy had several main rooms laid out in a way that reminded me of a fancy dance club. I imagined it wasn’t always like this. To my left was a silent auction area but at the moment it held various small-dish layouts, which we stopped at when I noticed Steph couldn’t prevent herself from staring at them. I had a little macaroon cookie—pistachio flavored. She tried several sushi rolls, then we moved on. A waiter came around with a plate of chocolate mousse shots, and of course, we had to try those. My eyes scoured the area for Galahad, not sure if it was he who we would should be looking for, or some host who would be the one to find us.

Passing through a room where the music was entirely different from outside, classier and slow, we watched as a woman in a flashy red dress took the stage and started singing. Impressive, and young men and women who were clearly college students or interns stood sipping wine and taking this all in. What an odd assortment of people, I thought. Had I stayed on the West Coast for school, I was one hundred percent certain this wouldn’t have ever been my scene.

It wouldn’t be now, I supposed, except that somehow my new life and this one were intertwining. Soon, I hoped, that would make sense. The next room was more low-key, with people networking, handing business cards to each other, laughing with fake laughs and equally fake smiles. Now this was the D.C. get-together that I had imagined.

“Too bad…” Steph said, glancing back toward the double doors we had come through.

“See someone?” I asked.

She chuckled, wrapping her arm in mine and leaning in close. “No, too bad we’re not here to just enjoy ourselves. I would’ve loved to dance with you.”

“Me, dance?” I pursed my lips, shaking my head.

“Ah, don’t be like that. We can’t, anyway, so at least pretend you would’ve loved to.”

“It would’ve been grand.”

She kissed me on the cheek. “Next time.”

My smile was forming when I turned to look around, then froze as my eyes took in the area through a door that was just closing. An off-limits area with guards at the doors near the grand piano in the corner. The movement of the door was arrested for a moment and I saw two men there talking, and the view that had stalled my smile amplified, zooming in thanks to my transmutation powers.

A woman with silver hair pulled up in a bun, her red dress leaving little to the imagination. She wasn’t bad to look at, although she had to be on the older side. There was a strange familiarity about her, an attraction, even, so I stepped closer, amplifying my vision even more to get a better look.

When I saw her face, I froze.

Fatiha.

But it wasn’t just her that caught me off guard. It was the Chinese girl at her side, the short one with the Princess Leia hairdo. She wore a dress that almost looked like she’d thrown a sheet over herself and wrapped it around to look like a dress.

“I’ve seen her before,” I said, nudging Steph.

“Fatiha?”

“Of course, but I meant the one next to her.” Gulping as I saw the girl’s eyes dart toward me, the room seemingly growing a hint of red. “In my last dream with Aerona. That girl was there. The one I told you about.”

Something moved from the girl. Shadows that nobody else saw but me. Shadows that looked like little creatures, moving along the walls and ceiling, scurrying toward me.

“Run,” I hissed, but turned to find Steph grabbing me, already starting to flee.