Page 73 of Dhampira

Voices drifted from the maze. Rasimir and I turned together as a dark-haired man stepped from the entrance with a woman on his arm. He released her, and she shook out her skirts as he pulled a second woman from behind the hedges, followed by another man. Moonlight fell over the small party, illuminating their faces.

Each newcomer wore a terse expression, their eyes hard as they stared around the courtyard. There was a uniformity about them I couldn’t quite place.

Then it hit me. Their clothing was rich but unusual, the colors dark and the cuts modest. The men’s jackets opened over what appeared to be knee-length, close-fitting crimson robes belted at the waist. Black cloaks trailed from their shoulders, and sword belts circled their hips.

The women’s gowns were high-necked, long-sleeved, and heavily embroidered, the dark fabric split to show silk petticoats worked with more elaborate designs. Both wore glittering pendants around their necks. More gems sparkled in their ears.

“Ah, here they are,” Rasimir said, his gaze on the group. “Prince Lorcan will be pleased his guests could make the journey.”

I jerked my head toward him. Journey?

Rasimir narrowed his eyes as he stared at the newcomers. “Rix.”

My ears popped. The men and women in the courtyard looked up, their gazes locking onto the balcony as they appeared to notice Rasimir and me for the first time. Light sheened their eyes, marking them as Noctans.

Knowing crawled over my skin. I didn’t need to see the glow in their eyes to know what they were.

Vampires. But they weren’t courtiers. Whoever they were, they weren’t from the Drakhold. They’d journeyed from somewhere. But how?

Rasimir turned to me and offered his arm. “Shall we, my dear?”

15

Iheard the ballroom long before I saw it.

Clearly, Delphine and I had different ideas of what constituted a “small group,” because the chatter of a large crowd swelled over lively music. With every step closer, more knots formed in my stomach.

Tall knights flanking a pair of glossy black doors saluted as Rasimir and I approached. Then the doors swung open, and a spectacle filled my vision.

Couples twirled around a two-story ballroom blazing with light. Windows lined the lower level, the glass reflecting the spinning dancers. Pillars as thick as tree trunks supported a soaring ceiling painted with a night sky. As Rasimir and I entered, I realized the ceiling wasn’t painted.

It was real—or at least it was spelled to appear that way. Clouds drifted across the barrel-shaped expanse, their edges limned in light from a gleaming moon. An ornate throne rose between two columns. Chandeliers descended from the ceiling, their arms loaded with sparkling orbs. Gold crowned the tops of the pillars and covered the walls. Musicians played in an alcove in the upper story.

But the acrobats commanded my attention. Male and female, they stood in the center of two raised circular platforms on either end of the massive room. At first glance, they appeared clothed in white. But a second look revealed the opposite. Wide silk ribbons started at their ankles and wrapped up their limbs, circling smooth skin and gleaming muscle in a perfectly spaced pattern. Until it reached the apex of their thighs. Everything between their legs was bare.

I jerked away my gaze. Then I looked again, my face hot and my heart beating faster. The ribbons continued around their torsos, leaving a gap for their chests—and the big, colorful wings that blossomed from their backs. The woman’s batted the air lazily as she bent forward and kicked into a handstand. For one second, her bare toes pointed toward the ceiling. Then she split her legs and began to rotate, her blond hair spilling to the platform. Her face was a mask of concentration as she turned, the tongue between her teeth the same pink as her exposed nipples. She deepened the split until her legs were parallel to the platform. Everything between her thighs was displayed, the gently rounded mound above her clitoris smooth and hairless.

“His Majesty, King Rasimir of Nocta!”

The announcement boomed from a herald to my left. The music stopped, and every couple in the ballroom froze. Bright eyes fastened on us, and a murmur ran through the crowd. In another perfectly coordinated movement, the courtiers bowed. Men went to one knee. The women dipped low, their skirts billowing in reds, blues, yellows, and greens.

Footsteps clicked over the polished floor. Lorcan advanced from behind a pillar and moved like a black shadow through the sea of brightly clad courtiers. The upper half of his dark hair was pulled back from his face. His dragonstone sword was gone, but the jeweled hilt of a dagger flashed at his hip.

He flicked an impersonal look over me as he stopped before Rasimir and bowed at the waist.

“Majesty. I bid you good evening.”

Rasimir gestured him upright. Then he drew me forward. “And what of your betrothed, my prince? She looks beautiful, does she not?”

Punching Rasimir would be a terrible idea. My worst, probably.

Lorcan’s expression didn’t change as he offered me a shallower version of the bow he’d given Rasimir. “Enchanting.”

Under no circumstances was I marrying him. Assuming I lived long enough to make it to the wedding.

Rasimir turned to the musicians and spread his arms. “I thought this was a party!”

Laughter rose from the crowd. The musicians launched into a fast-paced song. As the dancers started up again, Rasimir turned to Lorcan and me.