Page 89 of Red Masquerade

“I am sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, his voice low, only for me to hear.

I reached up to wind my hand into the hair at his neck, my back pressed to his front. His hands doing nothing to stop the spread of heat to my core, my thighs.

“Then you must dance with me now,” I said, turning and looping my arms around his neck.

His eyes darkened as they took in the front of my dress, the way the fabric fell between my legs, parting at my hips, the beading that caressed my curves. He darkened. “I’m inclined to do something else,” he said, so low, his timbre sending shivers down my thighs.

Laughing, I moved my hips, letting the music take me once more. He watched hungrily, and though he didn’t dance, the odd one out in the crowd, no one seemed to notice, parting around us like we were a fixture in the room and not just another couple to bump into.

“Séra picked it out!” I shouted, swaying and letting my skirts whirl around me.

He pulled me closer, halting my movements. His lips found mine, his kiss harsh, with an intensity that made me melt. He moved against me, his hands winding around my waist so that I couldn’t back away. His tongue found mine, forcing entry into my mouth, and though we were amidst a crowd, I couldn’t stop.

I gasped as he nipped at my lip. My fingers played with the curls around his ears, with the collar of his shirt.

I wanted to undress him here, now, so everyone else could see how beautiful he was. So that they could see he was mine.

When he pulled away, his eyes fell to my neck, his gaze tangible. He smirked, then set me down. “I have something to attend to, but I’ll find you again.”

And with one last kiss on my lips, he left me again, his eyes lingering for longer than was probably wise.

Promise me.

“I told you!” Séra said, next to me once more. “I told you he’d love it!”

I was lightheaded, but I felt freer than I’d ever had. I had no thoughts, no worries, other than the fun that was to be had before me.

Screw Lucas, screw Lord Highsmith. They couldn’t keep me from drinking and dancing and kissing who I wanted and taking men into my bed, takingVinceinto my bed, and I felt so unstoppable, like I could do anything. I shrugged off years of control as I danced. My breaths came easier, my limbs moving freely, and if I were truly trapped in a fairy world, forced to dance forever, I did not think I’d care.

Séra was the first to stop. Sweat gleamed along her hairline, but it only made her shimmer. She grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the dancing crowd in search of a drink. It was not long before we found flutes of champagne and threw them back.

My thoughts moved in a barely coherent line, one after the other: thirst, hunger,Vince, vampires. Blood, champagne,sex, Lucas—no.My head was spinning. I might’ve toppled over, if not for Séra’s steadying hand.

She laughed at my stumble, leading me to a spot to lean against the wall. Her movements preternaturally lithe. Enviably assured.

“Perhaps a rest?” She grinned, leaning with me.

And she had been right. It was entertaining to watch the other people around us, to hear an argument over a man’s wandering eyes, his girl indignant at his lack of attention onher. The way people looked at each other, men and women, some women’s eyes lingering on female bodies, swells of breasts and the curves of hips. The licking of lips, imaginations running wild. The sharing of pipes and cigarettes, of glasses of gin; the sharing of dreams and desires and secrets. A woman whispering into a man’s ear, her hand covering her mouth as though to hide the words in the noisy room. The red blooming on his cheeks, the darkening of his eyes, his hands finding her hips. Her delighted cackle as his lips found her neck. Groups of girls sticking together, until they were weeded off, one by one, by drunken suitors. Young boys, barely out of their teens, gazing with wide eyes, star-struck almost, at the scenes before them.

Above it all, the chandelier sparkled, the ribbons having been forgone that night, but they weren’t needed. Every bit of the room shone, waxed to a sparkle, like diamonds and crystals were set into the gilt walls. The walls were plastered with gold leaf, the marble columns a luminous white with black veins. Gleaming drapes hung from the ceiling, pulled back from the large floor-to-ceiling, wrought iron windows, the fixtures a remnant of the building’s original purpose. The devils still writhed on the ceiling, almost seemingly having moved from the last time I gazed at them.

I pressed a hand to my eyes. “I’m going to go find some water,” I told Séra.

“One can stay hydrated well enough on champagne,” she grinned, but waved me on.

I teetered on my heels, stepping through the crowd, blinking to clear my eyes. Though I was unsteady, I knew I wouldn’t fall, an arrogant confidence keeping me upright. Why wear heels to these things, anyway?

I found a server some ways away, standing at attention near the stairs. He only glanced at me briefly while I reached for his tray, short crystalline glasses with a clear liquid. I grabbed one and took a sip, before my nose scrunched at the bitter taste. Most definitely not water.

A hand came from nowhere and took the glass from me. “Here,” a male voice said, offering me a different glass.

Dixon, my savior, my sentinel, frowned at me as I drank the water he offered, giggling at my mistake. He was missing his jacket, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, but his hair was still combed, his gray eyes searching my face.

It was the first time I’d seen him since I’d left home, but it hardly registered in my mind.

“What are you doing here?” he said, and shook his head, like he was cursing himself.

“What areyoudoing here?” I slurred, finishing off the water. It tasted starkly of nothing, a confusing sensation after the sting of gin and God knew what else.