Page 46 of Daughter of Garnet

All around us, the other partygoers have separated into groups of Gods. Aenella's group has favored dark blues and blacks, and most of them have styled their hair to look wet. A few have painted scales on their bodies, probably to mimic the mermaids of yore.

There are people dressed in greens and browns, many of the women with small antlers and speckled masks like fawns, and the men are mostly shirtless, with scratches painted on their chests and brown fabric around their waists that hardly covers anything. A strong breeze would give everyone a real show.

The followers of Oren are closest to us, and Viv pulls on my arm. "Mind if I run over there? I want to see if Ray is here." I shake my head, and she bounds off to the group of people with wings and beaked masks, overwhelmingly wearing white and pale blue like the sky.

I don't care that there is no group of Ilota worshippers to join, except for the fact that there will be no one to answer my questions. I didn't come here looking for friends, anyway.

Logs surround the bonfire, and I make my way to one, perching on top of it and adjusting my dress so I don't show too much with this wide slit.

In the light of the fire, my skin seems to sparkle. I extend my leg closer to the heat. I have a feeling that my dragon makes me at least a little flame-resistant.

As my leg warms, things begin to change. My skin transforms with a ghost of delicate, copper scales. It looks no different from the paint some of the others have used to decorate their skin, but this makes me nervous.

Viv knows I didn't paint my leg. If she sees this, she's going to have a lot of questions. Especially when they don't rub away as paint would.

I rush toward the wooded area, hoping that cooling my skin off in the evening air will make the scales fade. I've only made it three steps into the forest before someone steps out from behind a tree.

CHAPTER 23

Zoe

I stumble backward a few steps as the man moves toward me.

"Interesting choice, dressing as the Fire Goddess."

The bonfire, only a few paces away, reflects off a mask that covers his entire face and the back of his head. It's been molded and painted to resemble a crocodile's head, and the accuracy is quite eerie. I feel like the man before me truly is part beast. He's wearing a thick, black collar around his neck, and his slim, naked torso has been painted with greenish-brown scales to match the mask. A skirt in a similar shade of green to the scales swirls around his feet, a thick black belt matching the collar around his hips.

He catches me as I peruse his body, and though I can't see it, I know he's got a pleased, cocky expression beneath that croc head.

"She's not very popular anymore, is she? Hard to have worshippers when you don't Bless anyone." He reaches forward and grabs a lock of my wavy hair. "A shame, really. She is an interesting God." His voice tickles the back of my mind, like I've heard it before. I wonder if he is one of the Alpha Aides for my Menagerie class. Or maybe in Designation Hierarchy with me.

I find my voice. "You seem to be very interested in Ilota when you're dressed as if you've been Blessed by Aenella."

"She was best friends with Ilota, did you know that? Fire and water, opposite sides on the coin of passion."

Maybe I can get some information about Ilota tonight, after all. This man seems to have a loose tongue.

"I didn't. How do you?"

He relaxes back against a tree and crosses his arms over his chest. "There are journals from the early days, when they still walked among us. They're old and rare, and easily ruined by anyone without a delicate touch, so they're kept locked away." He leans forward, holding a hand beside his elongated, false snout as if to tell me a secret. "Lucky, my hands are very good at delicate touches."

His innuendo is not lost on me or my libido. It has been a while since I've been with someone, and the way my flesh grows heated at the slightest provocation proves that my body is ready to break the dry spell.

I force my arousal to the back of my mind in favor of my goal. "I would love to read some of them. It's fascinating how little information there is on her."

"Mmm, it is." His rumbling voice goes straight between my thighs. "I theorize it may be on purpose. Perhaps the powers that be are hiding something from us. But you didn't hear that from me."

It hadn't crossed my mind before, but now that he brings it up, it does seem suspicious that there is so little on Ilota. "What would hiding her history do? What could their goal be?"

He takes another step toward me and rests his hand on my hip with familiarity that would be offensive if I weren't having to ignore that I am burning up inside for this stranger.

Where is this coming from? Sure, the man is attractive—at least the parts of him I can see—but this is getting a little out of hand.

"With knowledge comes power, and there is nothing men crave more than power."

That strange familiarity hits me again. I have met this man before, I'm sure of it, but I don't know where.

Not that it matters. The whole point of tonight is not to know who the other is. If the sounds I'm hearing are any indication, many people have decided to take advantage of the anonymity.