Like my life isn’t hell enough, now I have to play cozy family with you? I don’t even know you!” I slammed shut the car door, giving the dog crate inside another quick glance to make sure it was escape-proof before turning to my surly companion. “Listen, Pixie—” “I told you, my name is Desdemona! Desdemona Macabre!” The girl had a world-record pout; I’d give her that. The rest of her… well, that wasn’t quite so perfect. She radiated hostility and anger, her hands fluttering madly to emphasize words when she spoke. Dark, distrustful eyes peered out from brows pulled together in a seemingly perpetual scowl. If her roots and fair coloring were anything to go by, she was a natural blonde, but she’d dyed her hair a dull black, no doubt to match her Goth ensemble of a long black opera cape, a black lace skirt, black and white-striped leggings, a black and red-striped bustier, black fingerless gloves, and a knee-length scarlet gauze scarf. “I realize that you’d much rather be left alone, but unfortunately you’re only fifteen, and the League home has asked that I take care of you for a bit while things are sorted out.
