Anita draws to a halt halfway into the room, blinking several times as she looks at the pair.

They were dressed to kill, she knows that much, and it's Asher she notices first. She isn't sure it has to do with him having fed on her or not, but it could have simply been how bright and sparkly he was. Asher was dressed in white and gold, ruffles and shining trim. His outfit -- from the shoes to the trousers to the jacket -- enhanced the gleaming gold of Asher's hair, drawing your attention to him with just the sheer brightness of him. He was like the sun, Anita thinks, so beautiful to look at it would blind you if you stared too long.

But then, beside Asher's sun, there was Jean-Claude. Like the moon, she thinks, pale and dark. Where Asher was gold and white, Jean-Claude was black and sapphire. The cerulean shirt he wore amid all the darkness made Jean-Claude's eyes stand out as burning jewels, like living gems in the paleness of his face. Anita takes it all in, from the butt-high boots that she first thought had been nothing but trousers to the opera coat to the fall of Jean-Claude's pitch-colored curls, and she was speechless.

All she can think of is the excitement she feels at the prospect of getting to be with them both, that they were both hers.