CHAPTER THIRTY
My heightened nerves prickled in the base of my spine, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears.
He doesn’t look a day older than I am, I thought to myself with a mixture of awe and confusion. He looked exactly the way he had in Josephine’s visions. I knew Supernaturals had a longer life span, yet I still half expected to see a stooped old man, not the strong, youthful man in front of me.
His slick-back hair was black, and his tawny face was sharp with angles. His gray eyes were cold and unfeeling. It was a cruel face—though an admittedly handsome one—and though he was the host, the Master seemed to have no notion of warmly greeting his guests. He made his way from the far end of the ballroom, wearing a crisp black suit. His shirt, however, was blood red.
Uncertainty, fear, and nervous anticipation seemed to hang in the air, and it was as if the whole room held in a collective breath as he made his way to a plush, high-backed chair placed in the front of the room. When he was seated, he waved a hand and sneered at the crowd. “Dance.”
That single word seemed to reverberate throughout the room, and the crowd shifted so fast it was as if the word he’d uttered was “stampede.”
Before I had time to get out of the way, I was engulfed by a crowd of couples, practically running to take their place on the polished floor.
Behind me, Maggie hissed my name. I reached for her, but my fingertips met nothing but air as I was shoved into an open spot on the dance floor.
The strain of music floated through the air, and I glanced around trying to find a way off the floor that wouldn’t draw much attention. There didn’t seem to be an easy escape route. The Master’s face was trained on the sea of couples, his roving eyes scrutinizing each one.
I couldn’t move. My heart was hammering in my chest; I was certain those around me could hear it over the music.
As the couples began to move, a tall figure glided in front of me, his hand extended. The familiar blue eyes immediately slowed my heart.
“Ty,” I breathed, placing my hand in his.
His face was serious as he draped the other arm around my waist, pulling me close.
“I can’t dance,” I whispered, as panic of a different kind washed over me.
“I’ve got you,” Ty whispered back, his voice husky in my ear. “Just look at me.”
His words wrapped around me, his fingertips gentle against my skin. “I’ve got you,” he whispered again, his words as soft and as warm as a caress. He led me backward, one slow step at a time, and we began to glide across the floor in the gentle rhythm of the music.
We didn’t speak, didn’t smile, but as he pulled me closer, his deep voice humming along to the melody, I was floating.
The music swelled, and we moved together, two leaves twirling in an autumn wind, while the rest of the world melted away. There was nothing but the beating of both our hearts.
“Lainey,” Ty whispered, as the music began to slow. His breathing was uneven, and his eyes were blazing. He pressed his forehead against mine and pulled me closer. I couldn’t speak; I was lost in the sea blue of his eyes, so full of emotion I couldn’t name it.
Then he pressed his lips against mine, and something within me ignited, burning through me—something new, forever forged in the flames.
When the sound of applause shattered the stillness around us, we broke apart, both of us breathless.
We stared at each other, frozen in place, as new couples were moving onto the dance floor to replace those returning to their seats.
“We should probably head back,” I whispered.
Ty nodded and tore his eyes away from my face. He reached for my hand, and I saw his shoulders rise with an inaudible sigh.
I led him off the dance floor to where Serena and Maggie were waiting, seated inside a small, dark alcove.
My face was hot as I sat down beside Maggie. It was strange seeing my own face, but the smirk it wore was entirely Maggie.
“What?” I asked.
“That wasn’t part of the plan,” she said, grinning.
My cheeks burned, and I swatted at her, not knowing what to say. I leaned back against the cushioned seat and hoped the shadows hid the flush I felt covering every inch of my exposed skin. Ty glanced over at me, his eyes locking on mine in the darkness. There was so much to say, but neither of us said a word. My cheeks blazed even hotter.
“I think it’s time,” Serena said, standing up. “We should split up now.”
The music was building, and dancers were swirling across the floor. Waiters were busy bringing hor d’oeuvres and trays of sparkling drinks to the various tables, and more and more people seemed to be milling about. Despite the tension that still lingered in the air, the room had relaxed into a milder atmosphere. If there was any hope of finding the Hetaeria, now was the time to start looking.
I leaned forward, sneaking a peek at the Master. A line of servers in white uniforms promenaded toward him, presenting trays of delicacies. He sneered at each of them before selecting a tall glass of red wine and waving the others away. A trio of Guards wearing masks stood behind him at attention, ready and waiting.
I stared at the Master, trying to read his face, but there was nothing but a pair of cold, calculating eyes. My hands shook as I reached up to make sure my mask was still firmly in place.
I nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.” I stood up and adjusted my dress, trying to ignore the waves of nausea rolling around in my stomach. If something were to go wrong . . .
“None of that, Styles,” Maggie said, reaching for my hands. “I know what you’re thinking. Everything is going to work out exactly we planned.”
I sighed. “You don’t know that.”
Maggie nodded. “You’re right, I don’t know, but I’m choosing to believe that it will. You should do the same.” She squeezed my hands. “Besides, it’s simple really. Ty and I will walk around and try to get some clue as to the Grimoire’s whereabouts, while you and Serena find the Hetaeria. Easy peasy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but only a hundred things could go wrong. Like the Scavenger, for example.”
Maggie waved her hand. “That’s what I’m here for, remember? If he does catch your scent, it will be much harder to sniff out two of us.” She beamed at me, confidence shining in her eyes.
I wrapped my arms around her with a laugh. “Please, just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me, Styles. I’ll make like Barry Allen and be back in flash—you can count on it.” Maggie hugged me tightly and pulled back with a smile. “You be careful too. Find the Hetaeria.”
“I will, I promise.”
Maggie moved over to Serena, and Ty stepped in front of me. His face was serious, but there was a storm swirling in his eyes. “I’ll keep her safe,” he said.
“I know, just keep yourself safe too, okay?”
With a nod, he turned toward Maggie as if to go, but then turned back to me, closing the gap between us. “Lainey,
I . . .” He trailed off, running a hand up to squeeze the back of his neck. He let out a deep breath, and instead of speaking, he reached for one of my hands and then gently placed it across my chest. My own heart pulsed against my fingertips.
“You feel that?” Ty asked. His eyes were flashing, and there was a desperation in his face that I didn’t understand. I managed to nod.
“It’s the one thing he can’t take away from you.” Ty leaned forward, his forehead touching mine. “Do you understand?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing it wasn’t my mortality he was speaking of. I was consumed with fear and doubt, but every beat of my heart was a reminder of something so much stronger. Goodness. Courage. Strength. Determination. Heart.
We were dangling from the edge of a cliff, and in the moment before we hurled ourselves completely into the void, Ty had given me peace.
Tears sprang up in my eyes. I blinked them away as I lifted my head and met his gaze. “I understand.”
He nodded, the tiniest trace of a crooked smile on his lips.
I watched as Ty and Maggie headed toward the orchestra, weaving in and out of the crowd until I could no longer see them.
Serena wrapped a hand around my arm. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I smoothed the front of my dress and stood a little taller. “Let’s find the Hetaeria.”
We moved through the room, sticking to the shadows. We linked elbows and giggled playfully to each other to give the appearance of two silly partygoers; all the while we were busily scanning the faces around us.
Serena had given me a vague description of the people we were looking for, but no one seemed to fit the description. Pockets of people dotted the room, but the masks and elaborate costumes made it difficult to see features clearly. There was a feeling of unease that permeated the room, and despite the facade of merriment many wore, the crowd seemed to be waiting for something to happen.
Shivers waltzed up and down my spine. Don’t think about that now. Focus on finding the Hetaeria.
We’d stopped to accept a glass of sparkling cider from a waiter when Serena’s hand flew to her temple. She let out a gasp and squeezed her eyes shut.
The waiter seemed startled, but I let out what I hoped was a realistic laugh and waved my hand. “Parties! Aren’t they just exhilarating?” I didn’t wait for a response before grasping Serena by the elbow and ushering her away from his wide eyes.
“What is it?” I hissed when we were out of earshot.
“A vision,” she wheezed, surprise coloring her cheeks. “It’s the Scavenger. He’s here.”
I whipped my head back and forth, but there were no familiar faces that I could see. “How much time do we have?”
“I don’t know. But we need to move fast.”
We continued canvasing the room. My heart was pounding, and worry pulsed through me in time with the music. Serena kept whispering words of encouragement in my ear, but I could tell from her faltering smile that she was every bit as worried as I was.
What if we can’t find them? What if the vision about the Hetaeria was wrong? What if the Scavenger catches up to us first? The voice inside my head was screaming. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep my face neutral.
“Breathe, Lainey,” Serena whispered, feeling the tension in my limbs. “We’ll find them.”
But the more we searched, the more panicked I became. I felt like Cinderella, racing against the clock—except I doubted my story would end with a happily ever after. I walked with my hand pressed against my hammering heart, desperate to keep it from clawing its way out of my chest. Deep breaths, Lainey. Just breathe, I coached myself, ignoring the ranting inside my brain.
“Lainey,” Serena said, pulling me to the side. “Over there.” There was a large round table tucked behind a pillar. In the dim light of the room, it was difficult to see the faces of those sitting around the table, but there was one distinguishing feature that made my heart stop.
A woman with fiery red hair was facing us, her face hidden behind a large lace mask. The flame color of her hair was like a beacon in the darkness. It also matched the description that Serena had given me.
“Is that them?” I asked, watching as the red-haired woman caught my gaze and leaned over to whisper something to the gentleman next to her.
Serena’s face was pale, and indecision seemed to be written all over it. She turned to me, her eyes blazing. “I can’t be sure, but there’s only one way to find out.”
It was a risky move. If we exposed ourselves and our purpose to the wrong people, it wouldn’t end well for us. Our whole plan would go up in smoke.
I squeezed Serena’s hand. “Let’s go.” The clock was ticking; it was a risk we had no choice but to take.
We walked slowly toward the table. The red-haired woman nudged her counterpart, and they watched us from their seats, scrutinizing our movement the way a cat stalks its prey.
We were only a few feet away when a loud commotion broke through the peaceful melody of the orchestra. There was the sound of scuffling, a loud smack of skin against skin, and someone crying out. The crowd began to murmur, and the din of the ballroom rose as people craned their necks to see what was happening.
That cry sent a chill so deathly cold down my back that my knees nearly gave way. Before my brain even had time to catch up, I was moving, pushing through the crowd. The crowd was beginning to clump, everyone trying to see what the fuss was about. I elbowed and shoved, trying to force my way through, but there were too many people in the way. I got stuck in a mass of people but could see the Master clear enough.
He looked irritated and waved his hand, the way one would swat at a fly. “Come forward,” he said. The words were quiet, but they reverberated through the room as if he had shouted them.
Several guests near him flinched visibly. The crowd quieted and there was a mass shuffling from the people trying to get out of the way as a tall figure pushed toward the Master, dragging someone behind him.
My heart plummeted to the floor.
It was the Scavenger.
Though dressed in dark slacks and a white shirt, his clothing couldn’t hide the layer of grime that covered his skin or detract from the greasy stringiness of his hair. His face was twisted in a triumphant grin. He yanked his arm forward, plucking his captive from the crowd and into the open space before the Master.
It was Maggie.