Page 15

Chapter fifteen

The mansion before them glowed like a beacon, every cross-barred window illuminated from within. Lux gazed up the expansive stone stairs, wide and gleaming from ornate lampposts, flanked by the Shield on either side. She worried her lip.

“Nervous?”

She felt Shaw’s quiet question warm the frigid air between them, heard the carriage continuing on, another taking its place. She released her lip. “I’m not sure what I am.” She studied the towering wooden doors flung wide, guests milling inside and around the pale stonework. “I don’t have fond memories of this place.”

She turned then, taking in Shaw’s appearance in the light. Dark, mysterious—dangerous. She shook her head. Certainly no ideal disguise for remaining inconspicuous.

He studied her just as closely. Though what conclusion he came to, she would never know. He held out a black-clad arm.

Lux stared at it with all the confusion of an impossible puzzle.

“Ahem.” He grabbed her hand, linking her arm with his. “Have you never been escorted anywhere before?”

The warmth of his touch crawled up her fingers, spreading outward and through her. She stepped forward, pulling him after. “No. It would only slow me down.”

To make her point, she hurried up the stairs, forcing him to match her pace. He scoffed, his long strides meeting hers, then exceeding. “It can be nice to move slow sometimes.”

The suggestive flicker of humor in his eyes caused Lux to curl her lip. “Don’t be crude.”

He only shook his head, a breath of laughter leaving his lips as he glanced over the Shield in their passing. “Spineless bastards.”

“Did you know they carry sleeping potions? Potent ones, too. I tested it out on one of them the other day. He dropped like a sack of flour.” Lux smiled at the memory, and when her gaze inadvertently found Shaw’s, she was struck by his expression. What she could see of it. “What?”

They’d reached the landing and Shaw shrugged off his coat, revealing a crisp, black shirt lined with silver buttons matching that of his mask. He handed it off to a servant with an appreciative nod, causing the girl to offer up a befuddled blink in response. Appreciation was not often found here.

“Don’t allow this to go to your head, Necromancer. But I think I could like you.”

She laughed aloud, drawing several sets of eyes before stifling it. “Trust me, I never let anything get so far.”

He grinned. “Me neither.”

“I should probably tell you,” Lux muttered beneath her breath as they entered the lustrous foyer. “The mayor expects a gift.” At Shaw’s quick glance of irritation, she hurried on, “A secret, a favor. Something of that sort.”

“Of course, you only tell me this now.” The arm beneath hers tightened.

“I forgot.” She lifted her eyebrows at a puffed peacock of a woman.

So much color, so many sparkling jewels. The crowded room of Ghadra’s elite preening one another was enough to make her head spin and her stomach knot. Lux noted that Shaw drew just as many stares, though most shifted from frightened shock to intrigued admiration as he led her into the ballroom. Her gaze swept over large urns spilling roses the color of blood.

“I think we made a mistake.”

Shaw’s voice darkened. “What now?”

In her effort to choose a costume that would allow her to slip easily through shadowed corridors, and to honor one very brave sacrifice, she had foolishly forgotten one thing:

Those of the Light never wore black.

“That suit. This dress…” His eyes traveled down at her words, and her skin heated.

“This can only be my Deceiver of Death!” The mayor’s voice boomed louder than necessary, drawing the attention of those nearby. As he liked it. Lux stepped closer to Shaw—and turned.

Clad in a shocking pink waistcoat with a matching mask tilted up at the corners, his gaze swept over her. “I shouldn’t have expected anything other than black, of course.” He sighed dramatically, bringing a few feigned chuckles along with him. “But I must say it suits you. A raven?” He reached forward, gripping her hands before she could dodge.

“A crow.”

He quirked his lips. “We will say raven.” He forced her into a spin before his eyes. “Much more beautiful than a crow. ”

Lux stopped with a swish of fabric, tugging her hands from his icy grip. “And what of your costume, if I might ask?”

The mayor adjusted his mask with a grin before snatching a proffered goblet of wine. “A flamingo! Rare bird. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it. Few know of such things.” Lux had indeed heard of it. She refrained from rolling her eyes upward. The mayor drew closer, the stink of too much wine coating the air between them. “Did you happen to bring me a present?”

His hand reached out to finger a feather at her back.

“Yes. A secret.” She leaned in further. There were certainly many secrets she could have divulged to the mayor, but there was only one that wanted for revealing tonight. “There’s a phantom in the forest.”

Strange , she thought, how the words come easily now.

His eyes gave away nothing. “A phantom? You’ve entered the wood?”

“Once.”

“How very brave.” He studied her. “Or very foolish. You never were the best at following tradition, and now I’m sure you’ve disturbed a grumbling ghost.” He winked. “Intriguing all the same. Where is your aunt?”

“We came separate.” At Lux’s statement, the mayor finally took notice of Shaw at her back. He squinted up. “What’s this? A corpse?” His abrupt guffaws sent wine sloshing from its crystal dwelling onto the patterned tiles.

Shaw’s voice cut through, scraping. “Something like that.”

The mayor sobered. “What’s your name?”

“Shaw.”

“Have I met you before?”

“One other. Perhaps you don’t remember.” His eyes blazed and Lux contemplated stomping on his foot.

“Of course I remember. I’ve the best memory.” The mayor finished off the last of the wine before staring forlornly at the puddle on the floor. “If only all could have as great a mind as mine…”

Lux coughed against the derisive laugh bubbling from her lips. “We have been monopolizing you, Mayor. We should allow you to greet the remainder of your guests.”

“Yes, yes.” The look he directed at her turned leering. “Save me a dance.”

Lux considered knocking the goblet from the mayor’s grip until she felt the reassuring pressure of Shaw’s hand against her back. “Of course.”

She stepped away, more than ready for something to coat her suddenly parched throat.

“Wait. Doesn’t Shaw have a gift for me, as well?” The mayor eyed her escort with renewed interest, and the taller man stepped forward, his hand never leaving her.

“Death is like the mist that coats this town every twilight. Hungry and inevitable.”

If the mayor weren’t so happily intoxicated, Lux was sure Shaw would have been thrown into the mysterious prison for such a statement. Instead, the mayor fixed his well-honed grin upon his wide lips.

“Some would say.”

Reaching around to her lower back, Lux dug nails into Shaw’s hand, gripping it within her own. Dragging him from the mayor’s presence, they approached a covered table laden with goblets of wines and mugs of cider.

“What were you thinking?” she whispered heatedly, pushing a glass of wine into his hand. “Water?”

At the servant’s shake of his head, she frowned. Cider it would have to be. She picked up the nearest cup, sniffing its contents. A tentative sip later, the pleasant taste of orange swept over her tongue.

Shaw eyed his gloves with interest. “That buffoon’s so drunk he won’t even remember what I said by hour’s end.”

“We can hope.” She steered them toward the nearest sculpted column, their backs to the wide windows and faces to the sparkling sea. She eyed the decorated balustrade above them, thick ribbons tumbling from its height. “Where is your murder weapon, Prowler? Please tell me you’ve left it at home.”

“Who needs mine when you’ve brought yours.” The pull of his glove revealed scarlet marks on his skin. “Fiend.”

She choked on a second swallow. “I saved you from yourself! You should hope it will scar and forever remind you that not all your thoughts need voicing.”

His narrowed gaze lifted to find hers. He raised his hand and instinct told her to retreat. Instead, her back met the cool column, pinning her in place. Clad in achingly soft leather, his thumb drew along her mouth, coming away wet. All the while, a roguish glint lit his eyes.

Lux tossed her head to the side. “What was that for?”

His lips met the edge of the bone mask. “Not all my thoughts require voicing, I’m told. Relax, Necromancer. You look poised to attack someone.”

“Perhaps I am. Leave me be.”

“Suit yourself. Though your body must ache every night, being kept so rigid.”

“Please, don’t overtax yourself with thoughts on my body.” Glowering, she slid around his side. “I’m starved. We can discuss what to do from here afterward. If you’ll excuse me.” She didn’t bother inviting him along.

Most gave her a wide berth as she wove toward the tables tumbling with food. Those that didn’t, she needed only to bare her teeth to send them stumbling. Lux smiled. She wasn’t here to make friends. Not with these people. Not with anyone.

She surveyed the rising confections, stacked on crystal and arranged in towers of delectable scents. She selected a meat- filled pastry and wondered how she should go about scrubbing the feel of Shaw’s thumb on her mouth from her mind.

“No napkin? How barbaric.”

Lux froze at the dripping voice, her chest stinging.

Morana, the mayor’s daughter, and the source of nearly all the invisible wounds Lux had received while trapped within her domain. She apparently took after her mother in all ways but one: of a height like her father, she and Lux were nose-to-nose now.

Lux took in the elaborate leather costume before her, ample curves on near-full display.

“Outlandish choice, that.” Morana gestured to Lux’s gown. “It’s just as well, for color always did give your skin a jaundiced look.” The mayor’s daughter smoothed back a loose tendril of golden hair, blue eyes made brilliant beneath the row of garish chandeliers.

“Pleasant to see you as well, Morana. Interesting costume.”

“Isn’t it? A wyvern-rider.”

Lux nodded, already bored and suddenly tired.

“And here comes my wyvern now.”

Lux couldn’t prevent the huffed breath of laughter as Morana’s husband weaved through the crowd, an elaborate headdress rising above them all, complete with spiked horns. Tall, weak-shouldered, with black hair and even blacker eyes, he stopped at his wife’s side—after taking the time to observe every other young woman along his journey, of course.

“Lux.” His eyes traveled down and up her costume. “You’ve certainly grown.”

Morana’s lips tightened.

“Yes, I have. Though nine long years haven’t appeared to have aged you both in the slightest.”

The mayor’s daughter flashed her teeth in a semblance of a smile. “True. My darling Colden is as handsome as the day we married.” An arm snaked around his waist.

He didn’t reciprocate. “Likewise, my dear.”

The two of them were going to give her a headache. Drenched in sarcasm, Lux said, “As lovely as this has been, I must get back.”

Morana’s hand clamped on her arm, icy tendrils winding upward so like that of the tree’s, she flinched. Morana felt it, and grinned. “Get back to whom?”

Lux glanced at Shaw from across the room, and Morana laughed. A thick sound that oozed over her, bringing back memories she wished to forget. “He doesn’t appear to mind your absence, you poor thing.”

It was true. As the crowd moved about, dancing to the music or swaying unnaturally with drink, Shaw stood surrounded by no fewer than three bright and sparkling creatures. His lips even appeared upturned in a smile.

“One must drop a few crumbs for the chickens every now and then.”

Morana’s brow furrowed in confusion at her words, and Colden’s lips quirked. Lux abandoned them before she was made to suffer more. Striding back through the crowd, her sole focus rested on Shaw. Shaw and his deep laugh that, strangely, sounded genuine to her ears. When his eyes finally lifted from that of the girl’s before him, his grin lessened, and then faded away entirely.

“Excuse us,” Lux purred, red lips stretching over her teeth.

The girls stumbled back in unison, eyeing her with a mixture of annoyance and unease. Not willing to confront her, however, they allowed a forlorn glance at the man behind her before slowly disappearing into the crowd of bodies. Lux bit into her pastry. She hated how delicious it was and wiped away the crumbs from her lips before glancing upward—to discover Shaw’s gaze intent on her progress.

At her attention, he cleared his throat. “I say we start with the mayor’s study.”

She paused, the pastry partway to her mouth. “You know of his study?”

“He must have one. He’s the mayor.”

“It’s far from here.”

“Good thing you wore your boots then.”

She glared.

“Finish that. I can’t stand here rocking on my heels any longer.”

“Spare me. You were perfectly content to flirt your way into a Light match a moment ago.” Lux popped in the final mouthful, followed by a swallow of cider.

Shaw took the empty mug from her hand before she could protest, his gaze flicking down briefly before returning to hers. “Death is never content, Necromancer. Now, let’s get this evening over with.”