Dominic shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He looked past Mal. “Carissa is coming.”

Mal turned to see Chrysabelle approaching. She dipped her head and did a brief curtsy, a show of respect for the eyes around them. “You talked to Damian?”

As she rose from the curtsy, her disguise couldn’t mask the anger in her eyes. “Yes and he’s on board. She has him drugged. Drugged,” she growled softly. “She doesn’t deserve a comar.”

Katsumi frowned. “How can she feed off him if he’s drugged?”

Chrysabelle looked away, checking the crowd. “She’s using Daciana’s comar.”

Mal wanted to take her hand, reassure her in some way, but in this setting, that wasn’t allowed. Good. “We’re going to get him out of here. It’s going to be okay.”

She nodded, her jaw tight.

“How soon?” Dominic asked.

“Soon,” she answered, repositioning herself so they could all see the dais. “You should get closer to the doors.” She gave Dominic a little smile. “We’ll see you on the other side.”

“On the other side,” he agreed. “Be safe.”

Or die. “You too,” Mal said.

With that, Dominic and Katsumi headed toward the ballroom’s entrance so they could move when the opportunity presented itself. Which it should very soon.

Chrysabelle stood at his side, nervousness wafting off her in waves, her body stiffly poised as if ready to leap to her brother’s aid, even though they both knew that couldn’t happen. “You’ll be with him soon.”

Her gaze never left her brother. “I hope so. Otherwise, I—”

Damian got out of his seat and approached Tatiana, who was deep in conversation with a small group of nobles. He leaned in and interrupted. The crowd noise made hearing the conversation impossible, but the change in Tatiana’s expression from politely interested to obvious displeasure said it all.

Beside Mal, Chrysabelle’s breath hitched.

Tatiana glared at Damian, then ignored him and went back to her conversation. He inhaled deeply, then spoke to her again. This time, she backhanded him, splitting his lip.

Chrysabelle swallowed and a shocked silence rippled out from the nobles around Tatiana, spreading through the crowd as those in attendance turned their heads.

Damian glowered at Tatiana but said nothing. She pointed toward the door. “I will deal with you later.”

“No, you won’t,” Chrysabelle whispered.

With that, Damian walked away and the crowd quickly returned to their conversations with a new, hugely interesting topic to discuss, giving Dominic and Katsumi the cover they needed to navigate the crowd and follow Damian out.

“Now we pray,” Chrysabelle said. She glanced at Mal, her calm expression noticeably forced. “Well, I pray.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Mal watched the crowd around them, but no one paid the unsocial noble and his comarré more than a passing second of attention. Then movement on the dais caught his attention. Maybe this was the start of it. He hoped. Anything was better than the waiting. “Chrysabelle.”

“Hmm?” Her eyes were still closed.

“Octavian’s moving. He has the child and she’s fussing. This might be the opening we’ve been looking for.”

She opened her eyes and turned to see. “Okay,” she said with a nod. “Time to go.”

Still seething from the embarrassment of Damian’s stupidity, Tatiana almost snapped as a hand touched her shoulder. The moment she saw Octavian, she forced herself away from the volatile edge she teetered on. “What is it?”

He shifted a fussing Lilith to his other shoulder, patting her back to no avail. “I’m going to take her to the suite.” He frowned, his gaze roaming her face. “Are you all right? What happened with…” His eyes darted toward the nobles she’d been speaking with. “Perhaps we’ll just talk later.”

She laid a hand on his arm to keep him there, then turned only enough to engage her audience. “If you’ll excuse me, my child and my consort need me.” She didn’t wait for their response. “What’s the matter, my darling?” She leaned in to brush a curl back from Lilith’s forehead. “Are you hungry?”

“She might be. Oana’s in the suite and Kosmina’s already headed there to warm a bottle.” He jounced Lilith up and down a bit. “I think the crowd might be overwhelming her, too.” He shook his head in frustration. “These people. They want to touch her and hold her and—”

“Touch her? Hold her?” Tatiana squeezed his arm as horror gripped her. “You haven’t let them, have you?”

“Of course not.” He pulled Lilith deeper into his embrace. “Let me take her to Oana; then we can discuss what happened with Damian.”

Tatiana shook her head. “Stay with her. I’ll come in a few minutes and we can talk about it in private. I could use a break myself.”

He hesitated. “All right.” He kissed her on the cheek. “In a few.”

As he left, she deposited her half-empty goblet of blood onto a passing server’s tray, then picked up the skirts of her gown and prepared for the arduous slog to the door. She hoped the look on her face would stop anyone from approaching her.

“You’re not leaving, are you, Lady Tatiana?”

At the question, she turned. “Lord Moreau.” She lifted her chin and ignored the spark of unwanted desire his voice ignited within her. “I must see to my daughter.”