Page 3 of Trick Me (Immortal Vices and Virtues: All Hallows’ Eve)

Chapter

One

ERYNN

T he portal spits us out like we’re last week’s leftovers, and I immediately regret wearing heels.

“Hell,” Sera gasps, catching herself on a tree that definitely wasn’t there five seconds ago. “Every single time. You’d think after three years of portal travel, I’d remember to brace for the landing.”

“You literally arranged this,” I remind her, trying to find my balance on moss that glows a concerning shade of blue where my stilettos sink in. “You said, and I quote, ‘I’ve got the perfect portal spell, much smoother than the commercial ones.’?”

“I may have oversold my abilities.” She straightens, brushing imaginary dirt off her dress. “But look at us. We’re here, we’re gorgeous, and we’re only mildly traumatized from interdimensional travel. ”

She’s not wrong about the gorgeous part.

Sera’s outfit is pure sin meets dark fairy tale.

A corseted top in black leather that looks like it was poured onto her, intricate lacing up the back that probably took her an hour to get into.

The skirt is layers of burgundy tulle and black lace that move like smoke when she walks, short in the front, longer in the back, revealing thigh-high boots with lots of buckles.

Her hair is piled high, and her lips are painted such a dark red that they’re almost black.

“You look like you eat men’s souls for breakfast,” I tell her. “You’re absolutely stunning, babe.”

She giggles. “Only on special days. Weekends, I’m a vegetarian.” She gives me a once-over and whistles low. “Speaking of souls, you’re going to steal a few tonight yourself.”

The dress she forced me into is nothing I would have chosen for myself.

Ice-blue silk that feels like wearing water, with a single strap over my left shoulder, while the right side is completely bare.

The fabric clings to me, and the slit on the left goes high.

My hair is down in soft waves she created with heated stones and potions that smelled like winter roses and something burnt, falling past my shoulders.

I adjust my gold thin necklace with a crescent moon.

We both wear lacy black eye masks for the Halloween vibe.

“You did amazing with picking this dress for me,” I admit, grinning. It’s not often I get the chance to dress up.

“Very ‘touch me and die, but maybe the death would be worth it’ look.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is now.”

Around us, the forest is something out of a dark fairy tale.

Trees with silver bark that seems to pulse with its own light, shadows that move independently of their sources, and that blue-glowing moss that’s either magical or radioactive.

Other guests are materializing from their own portals.

A couple appears in a shower of golden sparks, and a group of three stumbles out of what looks like a tear in reality itself.

“Look.” Sera points ahead to where flowers are beginning to glow along a previously invisible path.

We begin our walk forward. “Can you hear that?” I ask.

Music drifts through the trees—string instruments, drums, and something that might be singing, but in no language I recognize.

“I feel it,” Sera adds, and she’s right. The music isn’t just auditory; it’s tugging at something behind my ribs.

More people pass us on the path—a woman whose dress appears to be made of actual shadows that trail behind her like smoke, a man in a mask shaped like a wolf skull that covers his entire head, twins in matching silver who move in perfect synchronization like they’re sharing one mind.

“We’re underdressed,” I whisper.

“No, we fit in perfectly,” Sera corrects. “We just haven’t had three centuries to perfect our aesthetic like some of these people.”

We emerge from the tree line, and my brain short-circuits trying to process what I’m seeing.

The mansion doesn’t just sprawl; it conquers.

It rises from the ground like it was grown rather than built, all towers and turrets and walls that shift between stone and starlight, maybe, or crystallized moonlight.

The full moon overhead is wrong, too large and too bright, casting shadows that fall in directions that shouldn’t be possible.

“That’s… that’s not architecturally possible,” I manage.

“Nothing about this place is possible. That’s the point.” Sera grabs my arm. “Come on, I need to see this place.”

Enormous iron gates stand open, and the moment we pass through them, the temperature changes so dramatically that I gasp. From forest cold to perfect warmth in a single step.

“Magic climate control,” Sera says appreciatively. “Do you have any idea how much power that takes?”

“Enough to make our host someone we definitely don’t want to piss off?”

“Exactly.”

The driveway curves toward the mansion, and I stop again at the sight of the fountain. Three tiers of what looks like black glass but moves like liquid. Lights dance beneath the surface.

A group ahead of us has stopped to take in the fountain as well, all wearing elaborate masks. A woman in a peacock mask turns to look at us, and I realize her eyes behind the mask are completely gold, no whites, no pupils. They are just chatting there.

Then we are moving past them, Sera tugging me mostly toward the mansion.

The entrance is lofty and appears closed. “Are the doors locked? Are we too late?” I ask, my words coming out a bit too breathless.

A couple stands nearby. The woman catches my attention immediately as she’s stunning, with long dark hair in a messy updo, loose tendrils trailing down her back.

Her dress is the color of heather flowers, the low V-neck screaming sexy.

She’s paired it with stacked gold necklaces, and I notice beads and charms peeking through her updo.

The man beside her is taller, equally striking.

His brown hair is shorter but still has these perfect little curls at the ends.

The white button-up he wears is open at the collar, paired with a suit jacket and a kilt.

The woman glances at the watch on his wrist. “It’s 9:45 pm. We’re early,” she says, though I can hear music drifting from inside, the tempo building like the party is already in full swing.

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods.”

The woman smiles at us. “I’m Tamsin, and this is Max.”

I study them for a moment, grinning. “I’m Erynn. And this is my friend, Sera.” My gaze drops to one of the necklaces around Tamsin’s neck, recognizing the symbol. “You’re from the House of Death and Diamond?”

The man, Max, nods. “We are.”

“So, you’ve met the phantoms then?” Sera asks beside me.

I watch as Tamsin and Max exchange a look, some silent communication passing between them. Then Max gives us a lopsided smile and holds out his hand. My breath catches as his hand becomes translucent, almost ghost-like, before solidifying again moments later.

“That is cool!” I can’t help but exclaim.

“It’s a handy party trick,” Max says modestly, turning back toward the double doors.

“Shall we?” He holds his arm out to Tamsin, who stares at it with an expression I can’t quite read.

They seem to have some kind of staring contest before she gives him a bright smile that looks entirely artificial and hooks her arm through his. “We shall.”

Max pushes open the doors with his free hand, and despite their obvious weight, they swing open effortlessly. Sera and I follow them inside.

The transformation from the cool night air to the warm, perfumed atmosphere is immediate. Magic tingles against my skin as we step into a magnificent foyer.

The ceiling vaults so high it might as well be the sky, held up by columns that look carved from single pieces of white stone shot through with veins of gold.

A chandelier that must weigh tons hangs from the center, crystals catching and throwing light in ways that create small rainbows on every surface.

The space feels mostly empty, as if everyone has already been drawn deeper into the mansion.

To our left, an older man in a black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt stands beside a pedestal. His face is deeply lined, and he wears a polite smile as he extends his hand expectantly.

I watch as Tamsin nudges Max with her arm, and he pulls out what looks like translucent invitations from his jacket pocket, handing them to the attendant.

“Welcome Mr. Fhearchair and Ms. Redthorne,” the man says. “We have entertainment to the left, food to the right, and the bar is just up ahead.” He gestures to each direction as he speaks.

Tamsin and Max exchange another glance, some unspoken question between them. Sera and I look at each other too, smiling .

“Can ye point us in the direction of the hostess? We would like to thank her for the invitation,” Max says.

The attendant bows slightly. “She will find you, when the time is right.”

Oh, mysterious, not that I’m surprised.

The attendant then turns to Sera and me, expecting our invitations. We step forward and we hand them over.

Once he lets us through, Sera gasps, and for once, I don’t have a better response.

“This is either the best party ever, or we’re about to become cautionary tales,” I say.

“Both. Definitely both.”

T hen we enter the ballroom, an enormous space Sera insists is two stories tall. Dim light bathes the room in front of us, and I’m awestruck.

People are dancing in a way that would have made my grandmother clutch her pearls. Bodies pressed super close together.

Every kind of supernatural must’ve been invited to the All Hallows’ Eve Ball. I spot a guy with skin so pale it practically glows and is definitely giving vampire vibes. Another woman has eyes that flicker like candle flames when she laughs .

“Wow, this place is incredible,” I murmur.

We turn to the bar first. There’s a half-moon-shaped, white marble counter that seems to glow from within. Behind it, instead of shelves, bottles float in midair at various heights, rotating slowly, their contents shifting colors.