Sirenz Back in Fashion Read Online Free Page A

glances into the dimness beyond. Shadows moved, but I couldn’t make out what they were. I got goose bumps on my goose bumps.
    I want my cashmere sweater!
    â€œHello?” I called. A faint echo bounced back. This place was huge. I’d been in Howe Caverns in upstate New York, but not for long. The winding and twisting passageways were too claustrophobic. This place was too big, too dark. I trembled. Where was I?
    Whenever Hades whisked me off someplace, like a privately owned tropical island or Ferragamo’s in Milan, it was to tempt me. But there was absolutely nothing in this scenario that was the least bit beguiling. I couldn’t figure out where he dumped me. I sniffed. It was dark. And moldy. And icky. I could be anywhere—a sewer, a subway tunnel, a mine.
    First lesson about mortal females, Hades, is NOT to send them to a skanky dark place. And dressed in the wrong outfit!

Meg
    Fleeced!
    I ran up to the window and banged violently on the glass. Shar stood on the other side of it, her low-slung jeans and bright green top gone, replaced by a neon-pink bikini identical to the ones worn by the mannequins—and the red shoes.
    â€œShar!” I yelled. “Shar!”
    She hammered away from her side, but I couldn’t feel or hear the beat. Suddenly she gave up and just stood there, crying. I pummeled the glass, harder if possible, then backed away, looking frantically for the entrance door. People swarmed around me, interfering with my view. Maybe if I could get inside, I could make my way into the window displays; but then I stopped dead.
    Shar’s hands pressed against the glass, ghostly halos of moisture forming around her palms and fingers. With every breath she took, shallow and quick from the looks of it, a little cloud formed on the window, obscuring my view of her. Behind her, a black background brightened, becoming three dimensional and shadowy like the mouth of a gaping cave.
    â€œShar!” I screamed again. The glass started to darken and I backed away in horror, putting my hand over my mouth to stifle my scream. “No! Oh God, Shar … ” I ran up to the window and kicked it again and again. The pane suddenly went black.
    I felt my voice catch in my throat and whirled around to face Hades. “What did you do with her?”
    I wasn’t completely surprised by him slithering back into our lives. Somehow I knew we weren’t that easily rid of him; I never allowed myself to let my guard down, and I looked for him in dark corners and in crowds.
    â€œReally, Margaret, you’re making a spectacle of yourself. Don’t worry about Sharisse. I assure you, she’s fine.”
    â€œNo she’s not! She’s scared and crying. Where is she?” Turning back to the window, I felt cold fingers of terror creep across my neck. Shar was gone. The mannequins, plastic grins and all, stood in their places as if nothing had happened. “Where is she?” I demanded again.
    â€œShe’s perfectly safe,” Hades said, waving a hand. In an instant he’d moved us several blocks uptown, and we were seated at a round table under an umbrella at the vegetarian cafe where Shar and I were supposed to meet Jeremy and Ian. The lone omnivore, Shar agreed to this place only because they served pesto-soaked pasta, one of the few non-meat dishes she would condescend to eat. Remembering the double date we’d never have because she’d been whisked away, my anxious stomach constricted painfully. I clenched and unclenched my hands, my nails digging into my palms.
    â€œRelax,” Hades drawled. “She’s alive and well. In my keeping, in Tartarus.”
    â€œTartarus!” I closed my eyes then rubbed the spot between them and the bridge of my nose in worry. “She’s all alone down there,” I said, more to myself than him. “Does she even know where she is?”
    â€œI’m sure she’ll figure it out, Margaret. I