“Really? So soon after the debate?”
“It’s the perfect time. We’re still riding high on the good press coming from that. It’s the perfect time to go public.”
When neither of them thought to clue her in, Iris gritted her teeth and asked, “Go public with what?”
“Your relationship,” Henry said.
Some part of her wanted to ask:already?
The other part, though, was surprised it had taken so long.
Clearly, she was slacking with her sabotage plans if Henry was so confident about Finn parading her out in public.
Maybe she should have pulled out all the stops. Dyedher hair tentacle-green. Gotten a large tattoo of Poseidon riding a narwhal. Insisted on wearing seaweed robes. Or piercings. Lots and lots of visible piercings. With seashell chains connecting them.
“What did you have in mind?” Finn asked while Iris tried to figure out what she could wear to mess with the date.
“That new supper club.”
“The one run by a banshee?” Finn asked.
“Yep. The ambiance? Terrifying. But the lamb shanks? Divine.”
“Why there?”
“Because it’s mildly controversial. Your appearance there is likely to cause a stir. Even without a mysterious woman on your arm.”
“Why is it controversial?” Iris asked, ready to take up for a fellow paranormal, even if she didn’t know them.
“The rumor is the waitstaff is almost unbearably rude. And most people leave with a migraine thanks to all the screaming. But when some people bring up the very real flaws of the establishment, others start saying people are just being judgmental of banshee culture. So on and so forth. It will look good that you are eating there. It will look better if you come out afterward seeming pleased with the experience and at the very beginning stages of being in love.”
“Did you have any plans tonight?” Finn asked, looking at Iris.
She’d been planning to hit up the bookstore since Arden had monopolized her entire day once he’d shown up. But she couldn’t let it get back to her mother that she was being difficult.
Her first instinct was to protest. Loudly. She barely knew how to navigate her feelings in private. How was she supposed to parade around the city on Finn’s arm like she wasn’t a walking, spiraling identity crisis?
But if she pushed back too hard, it might get back to her mother. And that, frankly, was worse than any dinner with banshees.
“Oh, well, Iwasgoing to attend my first Necromancy For Beginners class …”
“Necromancy For Beginners?” Henry repeated.
“How to Raise the Dead Without Raising Eyebrows,” Iris said. It was a real class. She’d used the phone Arden had insisted they go out to buy—then learn how to use—to track it down, wanting to have it in her back pocket if the conversation called for it.
“Necromancy,” Henry repeated, giving Finn a look she couldn’t quite interpret.
“I’d hate to cut into your new hobbies,” Finn said.
“So long as I don’t miss next week’s class …”
“What’s that one?” Henry asked.
“Séance & Song: Summoning the Dead with Showtunes.”
“So we can expect necromancer singing in the future,” Henry observed. “Great. Anyway. Tonight. Eight. I already made the reservation. Finn, wear the slacks and a shirt but no jacket. Iris, I will have something sent over.”
“Why can’t I pick out my own clothes?”