The one he gave me was a confection of black lace and golden feathers. It matched my outfit perfectly, of course. I held it up and peered at the dimming room through two holes. I was still looking through them as I turned back to Laurie.
“‘We wear the mask that grins and lies, it hides our cheeks and shades our eyes. This debt we pay to human guile, with torn and bleeding hearts we smile,’” he murmured. His tone had the connotation of a sonnet or a poem.
I searched his eyes, though I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for, and my voice was low as I replied, “Except we are not humans.”
“That is very true, Fortuna Sworn. Shall we?” the faerie prince added, arching a brow behind the dramatic mask he’d held up, too. Something about the beaded whorls made me think of The Starry Night painting.
I didn’t answer Laurie’s question, because I knew he would hear the fear in my voice. Too much of his plan depended on other people, and all of them were strangers. I wanted Finn back, and I longed for our freedom, but the thought of leaving these rooms terrified me. Thankfully, Laurie’s gaze went back to my hair and it instantly distracted him. His brows drew together. “One moment. Let me fix that first.”
He turned me back to the mirror, and I lowered my mask. Making a fierce effort to hide my reservations, I watched Laurie’s reflection, drawn to the graceful movements of his fingers as they fixed wayward strands of my hair. I noticed the rose again; I’d never seen a black one before. The petals looked like velvet. “Why did you choose that flower?” I asked.
Laurie was still preoccupied with my hair. His gaze met mine fleetingly as he said, “Isn’t it obvious? The bud represents death. Which is exactly what you are.”
His tone made it clear he meant this as a compliment, but I frowned. “I’d like to think there’s a little more to me than that.”
“Of course there is. But its darkness only makes the rose more beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?” With that, Laurie moved to my side and extended his arm.
I was anxious to see Gil, so I didn’t hesitate to take it. But as my hand settled on the crisp material of Laurie’s suit, my other one holding the mask, something inside me reacted to the contact. A sort of… shift. Why did it always startle me when I remembered he had muscles? Maybe because he kept them hidden, a mystery beneath all those pretty clothes. I tipped my head back to see Laurie’s face, like a flower to the sun. Drawn to the source of warmth and light, the attraction as inevitable as winter or daylight.
As if he knew exactly what I was thinking about, Laurie’s expression intensified.
Fear exhaled over my heart, its breath so cold that an icy layer formed. I forced myself to look away and turn my thoughts to the night ahead. We walked through the bedroom doors and into the foyer, the heels I wore making sounds that echoed off the high ceiling. They weren’t exactly practical, but there was a slit in the skirt that made it impossible to get away with boots or sneakers. If Laurie even owned a pair of either.
As I’d hoped, Gil stood near the outer doors. The vampire looked uncomfortable in black slacks and a white dress shirt, his posture making me think of a wet cat. A uniform, Laurie had called it. So Gil was going to be part of the wait staff tonight.
“Before you ask, no, I’m not all right,” he said the moment our eyes met. “I’ve been through a lot of fucking trauma in the past twenty-four hours, and I plan to schedule many, many sessions with my therapist when this is all over.”
I nodded. “Okay. Noted. We can talk later, if you want to. You know, if we survive this party.”
Despite my nonchalant tone, I was trying not to stare. There wasn’t much physically different about Gil, but something had changed. Unlike the creatures of urban legend, real vampires weren’t always beautiful. There was always a sense of attraction toward them, though. It was an inexplicable allure that most people responded to, because most of us enjoyed a subtle, momentary sense of danger. And to look into a vampire’s red-rimmed eyes was to know danger. Intimately. Like someone pressing a kiss against the hollow of your throat.
Then logic always found a way into your thoughts, dismissing the warning from your survival instincts. A human would probably shake their head and continue on.
But I wasn’t afraid of Gil. I knew the shape of his soul, and however dark it had become, it wasn’t evil. He was grieving… and probably hungry. Tonight would be a battle for him in more ways than one.
Directing my thoughts elsewhere, I discovered another problem while Laurie stepped forward and took hold of the long, curled doorknob. “What if a Guardian sees us on the way to the fundraiser?” I asked, squeezing my intricate skirt in my free fist. The other clenched around the mask. “Will they try to take me and Gil back to that cell?”
Laurie paused to answer. “At the Seelie Court, parties are the equivalent of a ceasefire. Not once the actual party starts, of course, but it’s like the hours before a battle. Everyone is allowed to get ready and establish the appearance of civility.”
“Just before you slaughter each other,” I muttered.
“Precisely.” He pulled the door open.
I rolled my eyes at Laurie’s response and stepped forward, directly into a slant of pink dusk. I didn’t hesitate—if there had been an ambush waiting, Gil or Laurie would’ve sensed the guards. Their heartbeats, the air going in and out of their lungs. As much as it was a pain in my ass, sometimes having Fallen creatures for friends was handy.
Laurie closed the door behind us and moved at a brisk pace. It felt strange to be walking the halls, unhurried and unafraid, when we’d been running through them only a day before. There were others leaving their rooms, too, dressed as elaborately as we were. I saw a male in a tailcoat bow and extend his hand to a female in a pink gown, the sleeves puffed around her shoulders. Laughter tinkled in the air. Jewelry flashed in the dying sunlight. I observed everything in sight, constantly making comparisons between the two faerie Courts.
Then we rounded a corner, and I felt my lips part in awe. My thoughts evaporated like steam hitting open air.
“Welcome to Stone Hall,” Laurie murmured. I couldn’t look away long enough to acknowledge him.
It was the most beautiful room I’d ever seen.
Sunset poured through the lattice windows across from us. Dapples of light and dust motes moved in the shades of yellow and pink. The ceiling was three stories above our heads. Covering every inch of that arched surface was a painting of rainbows, flowers, trees, clouds, and elegantly-dressed figures. I stared at it as a voice rang through the air, announcing the arrival of a couple in front of us. I tore my eyes away from the vibrant images overhead and took in the rest of the space. Lustrous braziers attached to each of the travertine columns lit up most of the hall, filling it with dancing shadows and a warm radiance. The floor was made of red and white tiles.
“So what is—” I started, turning. That was when I realized Gil was gone.
“He’s fine,” Laurie said under his breath, flashing a brilliant smile at someone. He must’ve seen the panic on my face. His lips barely moved as he added, “The vampire knows his part for the night. Now it’s time to play yours.”
Finished with his latest announcement, the herald spun on his heel, facing us. I tried to hide my surprise at the sight of a tail coming out between the flaps of his long, brocade coat. The shapeshifter spotted me first, and I saw his gaze flare with immediate interest.