Page 20 of Glimmer and Burn (Unity #1)

Chapter Six

T he dance had been a mistake. Devin held back as Miranda charged ahead to vacate the dance floor.

Whispers lingered in their wake, narrowed eyes sticking to Devin as Miranda drew further from his tainted company.

He briefly mumbled something about drawing attention and that they should separate to meet again once inside the secluded hallways that branched off the main ballroom.

Miranda agreed, her cheeks still red and a dazed cast to her eyes as she proceeded in the opposite direction.

Devin nodded his head at each gawking stranger, though it was getting harder not to grind his teeth or lash out. He’d been such a fool.

Once clear of onlookers, Devin found Miranda and she hastened to keep moving.

The house was a labyrinth of identical obsidian hallways, and the shimmery surfaces sent reflections bouncing everywhere.

It was not the sort of place one could navigate in a stupor.

He narrowly avoided a wall several times thinking it was an open path.

If they had any hope of succeeding, he needed to focus.

Yet, he was too torn for focus. One half of Devin was still dancing with Miranda, lost in the sea of possibility that had expanded before him when before there had been a straight and focused river.

The other festered in the bitterness of ‘I told you so.’ He didn’t belong here and his association risked her reputation.

Society was quick to turn, their opinions lost on a whim, and the scandal of involvement with Devin, no matter what honorary titles he now possessed, would seep into every relationship in his life.

Which is why he was better off in the Fells. Amongst his own kind.

He wished his mother never taught him those steps.

She taught him the quick, fluid steps to haunting fae melodies and the precise, sweeping ballroom dances that were expected at society parties.

Dancing with her was of the few memories he had that didn’t haunt him.

When they danced, their loft hadn’t felt so small and stifling.

If he hadn’t learned, however, he might have been spared all this doubt.

Because Miranda had defended him, she’d laughed with him, she’d ignored the voices and sneers and his heart yearned for hope.

Hope was dangerous. He’d learned to never trust a good thing over the years, it sooner came back to bite him.

The dance had changed everything. Exposed the risk of his feelings as well as showed him exactly why he had never attempted relationships with the nobility.

It wasn’t fair to expose Miranda to that sort of derision.

She purported defiance and rebelliousness, but could she really handle the loss of her entire social structure?

Her laughter tore his swagger to shreds. Disarmed him in a way no other woman ever had. He should turn around now and run before she squirmed her little claws any further into his carefully crafted asylum of revenge and self-loathing. Or…

He could see just how far Miranda was willing to go.

Chasing her would have made him the worst sort of rogue. She’d risk her whole future debasing herself with a rake who could never offer more than what a night and a bed might allow.

Except, now he had danced with her. He’d held her in his arms and looked into her green eyes as everything shifted. As lust bloomed into more. As all his fears caught up with him, because in that moment he’d have happily ignored every voice of reason just to make her laugh one more time.

Devin tore his eyes from the back of her head. He needed to stop mooning and get his shit together.

“This place is a maze,” Miranda said with a huff, “We’re lucky we haven’t been caught yet.

” She turned abruptly and they nearly collided.

His face within inches from hers and more dangerous thoughts started tumbling through his head.

What if he kissed her? If he leaned in and tested how far Miranda might be willing to fall with him?

Would she punch him?

Would she kill him?

Or worse, would she kiss him back?

He paused still close enough to feel each breath, lost in indecision. It took him much too long to step back.

“We should try a different floor,” he managed, voice nearly cracking.

They found a set of servants’ stairs, but a guard waited at the bottom. They huddled around the corner to avoid detection.

“If the stairs are guarded when no other room has been, the good stuff has to be up there,” Miranda said.

“Of course,” Devin agreed, so lost in his own musings he’d forgotten to consider the obvious.

“He knows that people drift off at a party. He’d expect people to look for a quiet room or a dark corner.

Nothing of value would be left where a couple could stumble upon it while knocking boots on the furniture. ”

Miranda’s face twisted in disgust. “People don’t really do that. It’s…they’d incite scandal and ruin—”

“My dear Miss Wilde, I assure you that it is very much what people do. And often. And everywhere. In fact—” Devin paused and cleared his throat. He was really hurting himself more than her at this point.

“Well, regardless,” she said, “We need to remove that guard. A distraction might work, though we don’t want to raise any alarms. There’s bound to be more up there so I can’t just start knocking them all unconscious. We’ll have to be selective.” She chewed her lip as she thought.

Devin did his best not to look at her mouth. Tried not to imagine her teeth on his lips, biting gently, her breath shallow and full of want. How could he not want to coax a few forbidden moans from her? To show her that his mouth was good for more than just bickering?

He cleared his throat. Miranda was off-limits. The scent of her wafted into his face as she paced, trying to think of a plan. Divine above, there was no part of her that didn’t tempt him. He wanted to taste the lilac on her skin, rip through her clothes and find all the crevices the scent lingered.

Infernal take him, he needed to stop.

He bit down on his tongue, hoping to quiet the riot in his veins. He was dangerously close to aroused and only careful control was keeping an erection at bay.

“I have an idea,” Miranda turned on a heel and headed back toward the ballroom.

Devin kept his distance as he followed. Miranda stopped once they could hear the notes of the crowded ballroom, the background chatter and swell of music, but before they could see inside.

“I know someone who can help. You wait here and I’ll get her,” she instructed.

“Hold on, love,” he grabbed her arm, but instantly regretted the action.

They both paused, the dance still lingering between them.

She swallowed as she carefully lifted her arm from his slack fingers.

Devin took a slow breath before continuing, “Who is this person and how do I know they can be trusted?” He was choosing to be pragmatic instead of reflecting on the razor edge he was currently straddling.

“Of course, she can be trusted,” Miranda scoffed, “Or I wouldn’t have suggested it.”

How was she maddeningly alluring one minute and infuriating the next? She’d stubbornly insist the sky were red if it meant disagreeing with him. “Not a team player, I see,” Devin said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you are determined to be in charge, even when we haven’t agreed to it. You may trust this person, but I have never met them and, as my stakes in this are just as high as yours, I’d rather not throw just anyone into our plans.”

She had the audacity to roll her eyes. “This is hardly just anyone. Lydia Foster would never tell a soul anything. Honestly, she’s more likely to forget what we’re doing before she has a chance to let it slip.” She crossed her arms and added, pointedly, “Unless you don’t trust my judgment.”

“In point of fact, I hardly know you, Miss Wilde,” he retorted, resisting the urge to cross his own arms.

“I think of the two of us, my judgement is more reliable than yours.”

“I beg your pardon?” He was truly offended. She had the nerve to say her judgement was superior when she was conspiring with the likes of him?

“Just…” she bared her teeth and, for a moment, he feared he’d laugh and set her off again.

“I suppose you won’t let it go, then,” he said.

She set her hands on her hips—or, rather, the billowing skirts that accentuated her hips—and snapped, “Do you have another plan for getting past the guard?”

He did not. “Fine,” he relented,” But we tell her as little as possible.”

“Not a problem. She’ll only want to hear as little as possible, anyway.” Miranda left him in the shadows so they wouldn’t be seen entering the ballroom together and sought out her friend.

Devin was quite content to sulk in her absence. Quarrelling had done little to temper his desire. If anything, it made it worse. Now, he not only wanted Miranda alone and wrapped in nothing but his arms, he wanted to see how she vented her anger with nothing to hide behind.

Miranda returned before his thoughts could dive too deeply into scandalous. A pretty raven-haired woman trailed behind her, her face soft and friendly, but her eyes were obscured behind round, blurry spectacles.

“Divine above, the stories weren’t kidding, were they?

” Miss Foster said, breathless. Maybe Devin had just hung around diverse crowds for too long, but there was something not entirely human about Miss Foster.

He searched for the normal tells and found nothing.

Except, he suspected the glasses hid her eyes the way his hair hid his ears.

“Lydia. Shh,” Miranda scolded between her teeth.

“Miss Foster,” he said with a bow, then he continued dryly, “We’re in rather a hurry.”