hand.
“No. Please.”
He continued to unravel my hair. I held my breath. A dry lump rose in my throat, and my heart began to thump harder and faster. “Why,” he began in a low voice, “give your ancestors this beauty and then make them die before their twenty-first birthday?”
“I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands resting in my lap and shivered in the chilly air, thinking of the harpy. “I’m not sure I want to find out.”
He released my hair, took both of my hands in his, and warmed them with his own. “We need to stay off the radar long enough to figure out your past.”
“Too bad we can’t just ask the Novem. They seem to know all about it.”
I paused, listening to the hum of the party outside, the occasional burst of laughter, the clink of silverware, the orchestra. To most of the people here, it was probably a cheerful sound, but not to me. To me the sounds were deceptive and only highlighted the threat existing here. “Where do you think the others are, then?” I asked. “Because they weren’t back at the house. Violet was the only one there.”
“I don’t know. When my grandmother’s runner found us looking for you down by the river, Henri said they’d go back to the GD. I came here to clean up and wait for you.”
“What about your dad?”
“If he’s back, he’ll be here tonight. But first we need to make sure Josephine didn’t have someone pick up the others once I left. She’s lost her mind if she thinks she can hold you here against your will, or use my friends as bait.” He glanced at his watch and stood. “We have enough time.”
I rose with him, hiking up the strap to the ????? blade under the material of my skirt. “Time for what?”
His eyes darted away. Instantly his posture was stiff and his body language uncomfortable. “The ball gets a little crazy around midnight.”
My heart skipped. “What do you mean,
“’Tis the season,” he said. “The time to. . indulge. Once Mardi Gras is over and Lent begins, we fast too. It’s tradition. So during Mardi Gras. .”
They gorge themselves on blood, and probably sex and any number of decadent pleasures. I understood. He didn’t need to spell it out. I suddenly felt very small standing before him. “So you’ve really never had the urge? Not even once?”
“I never said I didn’t have the urge. I don’t want blood to rule my life like it does some. Once you take it, it’s like a drug.” He stared out the window to the masked revelers in the courtyard. “Warm, rich, never enough.”
I nodded, fidgeting with my mask. “Kind of like chocolate.” I tried to hold in my grin. Casey always said I had a weird sense of humor that came at the oddest times.
He blinked before bursting into laughter. He had the nicest laugh and the most incredible smile I’d ever seen. It lit his gray eyes and sliced attractive little dimples into his cheeks. “Yeah. I guess it is like chocolate.”
Some of the tension left the room.
He grabbed my hand and opened the door as I slid the mask over my face. “Just stay close and you’ll be fine. We’ll find Violet, make sure the others aren’t really here somewhere, and then you’re getting the hell away from this house.”
Fifteen
AS SEBASTIAN LED THE WAY THROUGH THE CROWD, IT WAS impossible for me to keep my eyes on his back; the lure of sequins and satin, masks and mystery, was too hard to avoid. The soft murmur of voices, the music, the colors, and the light reflecting off everything made the entire house pulse.
He moved fast, weaving through bodies, allowing me to catch only small glimpses of things, things I tried
Sebastian tugged at me, the movement drawing my attention. We’d stopped near the second-story balcony. The air was even cooler than before, easier to breathe, and it sure as hell helped to clear my head again.
The loud bang of cymbals and drums from outside drew closer, drowning out the orchestra. The guests inside the house surged to the balcony. Sebastian cursed, squeezing my hand tightly as we were carried with the tide and jostled onto the balcony railing as the Mardi Gras parade rounded the corner.
All around us, the guests yelled and cheered, their drinks sloshing over their glasses, their eyes lit with alcohol, their cheeks flushed with blood, excitement, and the sensory delights of the parade.
Floats began to pass by, one after another in slow succession, each depicting life at sea in some way or another. “The Poseidon Parade,” Sebastian said.
Men stood aboard what appeared to be a centuries-old warship, their faces turned toward the balcony, eyes subdued beneath plain gold masks with hooked noses. They wore Napoleon-style hats and long, decorative coats and white stockings. Some of the crowd called down to them, but they didn’t move a muscle, just continued to stare at us. The effect was unnerving.
Mermaids occupied the next float. They tossed beads into the crowd lining the street and up to the balcony. The people behind us pushed forward, pinning us even harder against the railing. Sebastian’s arms went around my waist, and I knew it was an instinctive gesture — not because he wanted to hold me that closely.
He leaned down, lips close to my ear so I could hear. “We should check the house while everyone’s distracted.”
As he spoke, another float passed by, a scene depicting a sea cliff where half-naked sirens reclined, waiting for unsuspecting sailors to approach. The music that came from the float was designed to sound like a lure, a siren’s call.
Suddenly gleaming flashes — bronze, glittering bodies— darted through the onlookers below. Delighted squeals burst from the crowd. Men in nothing but loincloths and bronze masks jumped onto the sirens’ float. They crouched down, waiting. And then the sirens gestured with sultry, secretive smiles. The masked men approached, crawling up each siren’s body and covering them with their own. The crowd cheered.
My face was on fire. My senses had gone totally haywire. I couldn’t take any more. It was like that sound below had a real hypnotic effect. But it couldn’t be. . could it? This entire party was one big high. I’d gotten drunk on the sights and sounds like some lightweight, and now it was making me ill. I squeezed my eyelids closed tightly, forcing my mind to block out the distractions. I needed to get the hell out of here. Check the house. Find Violet and the others and leave.
Sebastian shifted, his thigh pressing against mine and causing the blade to move against my skin. The metal had warmed, matching my body temperature, and the strap was snug, almost too snug. But it was enough of a reminder that it sharpened my focus.
Strands of beads and candies flew over our heads. I shifted, angling away from the rail with Sebastian and allowing others to take our place. We drifted back, pulled like a wave retreating into the sea. Back into Josephine’s house.
God, I needed to get out of this gown! It had become way too hot, too constricting. I removed my mask and then dug my fingers into the edge of the bodice, pulling it up and away from my skin, trying to let the cooler air in. Didn’t help.
“Come on,” Sebastian said, striding through the now empty room.
We hurried across the empty ballroom floor.
A French door slammed closed.
Then another. And another.
I slid to a stop on the deserted dance floor, turning to see each door close and lock all by itself. The orchestra stopped playing. Some guests, I saw through the glass panes of the doors, tried to get back in but couldn’t. All around them doors slammed and locks clicked.
