A Dance with Darkness
Page 4
The castle loomed overhead, its stone walls devoured by ivy creeping toward the roof’s many peaks, chimneys, and towers. From my view, there was a myriad of windows—most more than large enough for me to fit through—but I saw no other doors besides the main entrance. I would need to establish an escape route before I got in too deep tonight. The interior was alight with countless candles and chandeliers of iron, and the floors were filled with demonic reapers. They danced in the ballroom, surveyed from the overlooking balconies and staircases, and dined from tables filled with delicacies of expensive fruit and meats. Luxurious tapestries depicting scenes from hunts and from mythology draped over the walls, and spread across the stone floors were ornate eastern rugs.
I had attended balls and masquerades before, so I was no stranger to the festivities. I recalled a harlequin in Paris who was an angelic reaper famous among humans for his fire-breathing and disappearing acts. Some reapers had natural abilities that astounded even their own kind. This harlequin would make fire dance in his palms and spread over his entire body until he was drowning in flames, and then he would vanish into the Grim as if he had burned up. Moments later, just as the crowd began to panic, he would reappear in a flash of fire, perfectly unharmed and seemingly resurrected. However, Evantia’s masquerade had no fire breathers, no humans, and the only masked reapers prowling the halls were demonic.
I set about my plan to determine an exit. I made note of how to return to the front doors, but that would be my last resort. Making a quick escape through the middle of the ball would be conspicuous and potentially disastrous. Glancing over my shoulder to ensure I wasn’t being followed, I caught sight of a familiar face. Her white skin seemed to glow around her black gown, and her pointed face—still somehow lovely even with all those angles—was framed by endless red tresses. At last, Evantia in the flesh.
Luckily she hadn’t noticed my pausing and staring for several moments. I gathered my senses and spun, heading for a dark hallway leading away from the main floor. A hand clasped mine and pulled me against the body of a tall man whose face was hidden behind a sinister coal-black mask topped with horns, revealing only soft, sensual lips and burning, poison-blue eyes.
“You are very foolish for coming here,” he said, his voice low. “Suicidal, perhaps.”
“Bastian,” I said, taken by a pang of surprise and foreboding in my gut. “How did you know who I was? What if you had grabbed someone else and called them suicidal?”
He smiled, flashing bright white teeth. “I could tell by your lips. And your eyes. I could forget neither, She-wolf.”
“I was just going, so if you’ll pardon me.” I began to pull away, but his grip was unyielding.
“You dressed for a masquerade and came all this way only to turn around and leave?” he asked, skeptical and teasing. “You never did tell me your name.”
I took my hand back. “Why would you want to know my name?”
“You know mine. It’s only fair.”
“I don’t want you to know my name.”
His smile became a quieter, more secret thing. “Then I shall continue to call you She-wolf.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, having had enough of his distraction. He knew I was angelic and I couldn’t imagine him not revealing my secret to the entire castle. I had found myself in a very bad predicament. “I’m leaving now. Good-bye, Bastian.”
His eyes haunted me from behind his wicked mask. Then, to my shock, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles, his breath warm and gentle. “Always a pleasure.”
He vanished from my sight, so fast my eyes couldn’t see him, but I needed to know his position. He was certain to be out there in the crowd somewhere, watching me, perhaps planning to go to his mistress and alert her of my presence. My mind was screaming at me to get out before this got any worse, but he had been right, in a way. I hadn’t come all this way for nothing.
I scoured the maze of castle corridors for an exit, but there were none to be found. There was no doubt Evantia had chosen this place for that reason. She would want to know exactly who entered her domain and from where, and she wanted to make sure they left the same way they came.
The corridor I searched now was dark, the torchlight sparing plenty of patches of shadow for me to lurk in, but when I heard voices coming down the hall, I searched for a place to hide. I tried the doors nearest me, but they were locked. Just as my heart began to pound, I discovered an unlocked door and I pushed it open slowly and quietly before squeezing myself through and closing it behind me without a sound. I found myself in a sprawling bedroom with an enormous, canopied, four-poster bed with silk-draped columns, a wide desk of dark wood piled with books in front of a wall of bookcases, and windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
Footsteps sounded just outside the room. On either side of the windows were great, heavy curtains, and I dashed toward them and concealed myself in the folds of fabric and shadows. The bedroom door opened, sliding heavily across the floor, and several figures entered. From my hiding place, I was totally blind and I silently cursed myself. If I had slid underneath the bed, then I could at least count the pairs of feet in the room and see their movements. I prayed my mistake wouldn’t cost me my life.
“Is the dagger here?” asked a harsh female voice.
“No,” replied a male voice. “We don’t have it.”
“Yet,” corrected a second male voice.
The woman clucked her tongue in impatience. “You must find it. I want it soon or I will carve my displeasure into your livers.”
I had attended balls and masquerades before, so I was no stranger to the festivities. I recalled a harlequin in Paris who was an angelic reaper famous among humans for his fire-breathing and disappearing acts. Some reapers had natural abilities that astounded even their own kind. This harlequin would make fire dance in his palms and spread over his entire body until he was drowning in flames, and then he would vanish into the Grim as if he had burned up. Moments later, just as the crowd began to panic, he would reappear in a flash of fire, perfectly unharmed and seemingly resurrected. However, Evantia’s masquerade had no fire breathers, no humans, and the only masked reapers prowling the halls were demonic.
I set about my plan to determine an exit. I made note of how to return to the front doors, but that would be my last resort. Making a quick escape through the middle of the ball would be conspicuous and potentially disastrous. Glancing over my shoulder to ensure I wasn’t being followed, I caught sight of a familiar face. Her white skin seemed to glow around her black gown, and her pointed face—still somehow lovely even with all those angles—was framed by endless red tresses. At last, Evantia in the flesh.
Luckily she hadn’t noticed my pausing and staring for several moments. I gathered my senses and spun, heading for a dark hallway leading away from the main floor. A hand clasped mine and pulled me against the body of a tall man whose face was hidden behind a sinister coal-black mask topped with horns, revealing only soft, sensual lips and burning, poison-blue eyes.
“You are very foolish for coming here,” he said, his voice low. “Suicidal, perhaps.”
“Bastian,” I said, taken by a pang of surprise and foreboding in my gut. “How did you know who I was? What if you had grabbed someone else and called them suicidal?”
He smiled, flashing bright white teeth. “I could tell by your lips. And your eyes. I could forget neither, She-wolf.”
“I was just going, so if you’ll pardon me.” I began to pull away, but his grip was unyielding.
“You dressed for a masquerade and came all this way only to turn around and leave?” he asked, skeptical and teasing. “You never did tell me your name.”
I took my hand back. “Why would you want to know my name?”
“You know mine. It’s only fair.”
“I don’t want you to know my name.”
His smile became a quieter, more secret thing. “Then I shall continue to call you She-wolf.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, having had enough of his distraction. He knew I was angelic and I couldn’t imagine him not revealing my secret to the entire castle. I had found myself in a very bad predicament. “I’m leaving now. Good-bye, Bastian.”
His eyes haunted me from behind his wicked mask. Then, to my shock, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles, his breath warm and gentle. “Always a pleasure.”
He vanished from my sight, so fast my eyes couldn’t see him, but I needed to know his position. He was certain to be out there in the crowd somewhere, watching me, perhaps planning to go to his mistress and alert her of my presence. My mind was screaming at me to get out before this got any worse, but he had been right, in a way. I hadn’t come all this way for nothing.
I scoured the maze of castle corridors for an exit, but there were none to be found. There was no doubt Evantia had chosen this place for that reason. She would want to know exactly who entered her domain and from where, and she wanted to make sure they left the same way they came.
The corridor I searched now was dark, the torchlight sparing plenty of patches of shadow for me to lurk in, but when I heard voices coming down the hall, I searched for a place to hide. I tried the doors nearest me, but they were locked. Just as my heart began to pound, I discovered an unlocked door and I pushed it open slowly and quietly before squeezing myself through and closing it behind me without a sound. I found myself in a sprawling bedroom with an enormous, canopied, four-poster bed with silk-draped columns, a wide desk of dark wood piled with books in front of a wall of bookcases, and windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
Footsteps sounded just outside the room. On either side of the windows were great, heavy curtains, and I dashed toward them and concealed myself in the folds of fabric and shadows. The bedroom door opened, sliding heavily across the floor, and several figures entered. From my hiding place, I was totally blind and I silently cursed myself. If I had slid underneath the bed, then I could at least count the pairs of feet in the room and see their movements. I prayed my mistake wouldn’t cost me my life.
“Is the dagger here?” asked a harsh female voice.
“No,” replied a male voice. “We don’t have it.”
“Yet,” corrected a second male voice.
The woman clucked her tongue in impatience. “You must find it. I want it soon or I will carve my displeasure into your livers.”
