I just wish I knew what Lily had planned.
Dinner goes as planned, and I place my tray in front of the guy who was nice to Riley earlier in the evening. Then we retreat to the kitchen and out of sight while the elites enjoy their meal. Lily still won't talk to me, but flutters around the room like a green butterfly, striking up conversations with the Nightsides of other covens. I ignore her and wait for the dance to begin, and I spy on the dinner itself through a crack in the barrier. Classical music plays over the intercom while the Truebloods eat together, covens mixing with one another, and Riley sits with his back to me.
“Just like old times,” I mutter, thinking of his distance after we first met.
And then Stella announces, once again without showing her face, that the dance will begin in fifteen minutes. Once again, she sounds bored, as if she's trying to lull us into a false sense of security.
“The Nightsides set up the chairs for the voting while that’s going on,” Lily tells me. “Just stay on the sidelines. The human servers stay in the kitchen for that and talk to each other.”
“Riley already told me,” I hiss, staying at the side of the kitchen area. So far, this Convening is going as normal. Maybe we will get through this, if Riley presents his case well enough. The High Council might have asked the other covens to be difficult as a precaution. They've only ripped apart new covens twice in history, after all. They might vote us in after all.
And the sky is orange.
Whatever happens, we won't get off easy.
Dinner ends, and we clean up the trays and take them to the kitchen to wash. The human servers and some Nightsides get to work scrubbing dishes in makeshift sinks, probably left over from food stalls that used to stand here, and I listen to the clicking shoes of the Truebloods as they make their way to the dance floor, which is to the right of the High Council podiums.
The thought of Riley dancing with someone else makes the pressure start in my chest, but I swallow.
I exit the kitchen with the other Nightsides and get to work setting up rows of fancy folding chairs, all with black cushions, before the podiums. The place feels like a courtroom. No one speaks as we arrange the chairs in neat rows, just like in the diagram left for us on the smallest podium. Walton doesn't speak, though he looks at me with sympathy. Trish and Stanley stick together, and the two younger guys from our coven don't speak to anyone. Only the Nightsides from the other covens socialize with each other in quiet, but relaxed tones. This is just a night out to them. And once we're done setting up over thirty rows of chairs—hundreds of chairs—some Nightsides retreat to the kitchen area.
There are probably three hundred Truebloods here tonight.
Some guests are Nightsides, but even they might take part in killing us just to wow their masters.
I stand outside the kitchen, surveying the Truebloods way over on the dance floor. Fancy lights shine down on elegant suits and dresses, and Riley vanishes in the crowd as a few people dance and the others socialize around the perimeter. Three hundred? We'll have no chance, unless my power can grow to a godlike level. I see no weakness here, nothing I can exploit.
Stanley has also retreated to the kitchen where Lily and the other hunters are ignoring them and asking the human servers how life is working for a coven. The injustice of it burns through me, and I ball my fists and let the power come. I'll need it in a flash, when no one is looking.
Now is not the time to shove it down.
“Attention, guests. The last part of the Convening is about to begin,” Stella announces. “Please seat yourselves in the official zone as soon as it is convenient. Human servers and hunters remain off to the side. Nightsides, you are to sit with your masters in your assigned row.”
An ice spike shoots up my chest.
It's time.
But Stella's not done.
“Johnson Coven, you are in Row A,” she announces.
I gulp. A, on the diagram, is the row in the very front, closest to the podium and in front of every other coven.
They want us cornered.
My legs carry me to the front row, before the still-empty podiums, and I sit not on the end, but near the middle as Stella continues to assign rows. I want to be near Riley if these are our last moments. The other Nightsides sit beside me, and Riley appears last as part of the trickle from the dance floor. He sits down beside me, crossing his legs and reclining as if this is no big deal.
“Is this normal?” I whisper.
He just nods, almost imperceptibly. Of course they'll seat us up front with everyone looking at us.
I glance long enough to see Stanley seated at the end of the row beside Trish, and he pays me no attention. He just watches the closed door behind the podium, waiting for his prey, the High Council, to appear.
Silently, others seat themselves, and Lily stands off to the side with the hunters and human servers. They're all one unit, and spectators only. Can she really help? Will she really do the biggest act of rebellion in her life? If Riley and I fail, then Lily could die. No, she will die, and the hunters are so hypocritical that they might let the Truebloods kill her and her parents, too.
I wait for Riley to tell me he's sorry for this one last time.
But he doesn't apologize. It’s done, and we've got to make the best of it.
At last, once everyone sits, and there are hundreds
