Which meant they outdid themselves at galas and other events to try and impress the snot out of each other—and the human diplomats who showed up as part of the Magisphere Accords. All the glamour, all the Fae pride was nothing more than the world’s biggest show of we are awesome. Be amazed. We are definitely not the remnant who survived a bloodthirsty war and then realized we were stupid because we can’t procreate nearly as fast as humans. “Keep looking like you have the upper hand at all costs” was the universal political ploy for Fae, human, or otherwise.
The grand reception of Melrose Durante, leader of the Blood Kind, was no exception to the rule. From the grave look of consternation on his face as he sat across from us in the limousine, the vampire was clearly dreading that reception.
Next to me, Cendric cleared his throat. “Melrose, the vehicle has stopped.”
“So it has,” he muttered, tugging at his collar. He wore his usual all-black outfit: creased trousers, polished wingtips, pressed button-down with no tie and the top button undone. The only time he wore something different was when he worked out. “I’m merely debating as to whether my presence is necessary.”
My husband shook his head. “You are the official guest of honor. You received an enthusiastic handwritten invitation from Queen Epriana herself.”
Melrose shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”
He hadn’t opened the invitation personally. The germaphobia was strong with Melrose, which made him an excellent physician when he could keep it under control. Dealing with people in social situations did not help with the control.
Cendric leaned forward, his face equal parts compassionate and encouraging. “You have all the essentials.”
“Usually I can insist on a private audience with a small banquet. Why didn’t I?”
“You haven’t made a public appearance in Pittsburgh for a decade. Both the Fae and the humans need a reminder of your presence and of the Houses of the Dead that you represent. They’ve all been made aware of your physical distance preferences.” Cendric kept his tone level and smooth. “Additionally, this event allows Allis and me an opportunity to make our case together and evict the Jinn Lady of the court.”
Melrose’s eyes flitted to me, then he gave a short nod, muttering some words to himself in his Egyptian dialect. Likely a prayer. “Yes. Very well.”
He pulled on a suit coat, deliberately less fitted to allow him more breathing space. Cendric signaled to someone outside, and they opened the door. Melrose exited the car. I glanced at Cendric curiously. “Will he be all right?”
“Yes. Melrose can manage himself fine, mostly. Myself, his daughter Zurina, or his close friend Vir attend just in case, but we won’t need to play nursemaid. These settings are problematic for other reasons. He hates politics.” Cendric smiled faintly. “He calls the OCD combined with the deceitful environment his personal thorn in the flesh, reminding him to lean on others and God.”
I sighed. “Got it.”
Cendric studied me. “Are you well?”
“Yeah, just peachy.” I squared my shoulders. “Shields in place, magic under control-ish, and ready to run this mission. Besides, I look fantastic. No point in keeping all this hotness away from the world.”
I kept my tone light. A lot could go wrong tonight. But a lot could go right. And the truth was, I did look fine in the fitted sleeveless dress, glimmering silver and violet against my all-too-freckled skin. I’d even tossed some iridescent purple glitter in my loose knot of hair, and gone for silver nail polish and the full evening makeup. There really was something to the whole “intimidate with fancy” act. While I was still new to leadership and being part of some interdimensional do-gooder organization, I could do parties. I didn’t even need to kill my feet in heels to do it.
“You make an excellent argument, lelkem.” His eyes roved over me, and his smile widened. He lightly traced the coils of the tattoos that covered both my forearms, then trailed up to my bare shoulders to draw circles in the freckles.
“Had to match your look.” He was rocking an impeccably tailored black suit with a dark silver brocade waistcoat, black cravat, and a top hat. Even a cane, although I knew it hid his favorite sword under glamour.
“If you two are finished ogling each other, we do have a mission to attend to.” Casimir’s voice was crisp and clear through my earvine.
Before I could respond, Diza cut in. “You’re just cranky because you have to serve appetizers to pretentious Fae who don’t respect your inherent brilliance.”
“Says the woman who has been propositioned five times.”
Diza laughed. “I’m losing my touch, it seems.”
I smirked. “Enough ordering me around, Flashlight. This is my gig, not yours.”
“You tell ‘em, Al!” That was Jack.
“I dunno, I agree with Casimir,” Gideon put in. “The flirting is gross.” He’d managed to secure a position among the musicians through some elaborate string-pulling that I frankly didn’t want to know about.
Cendric groaned. “And now I’m recalling the old party-line phones from decades ago.”
“True. Radio silence, everyone, unless crap’s going down. I have to focus.”
Together, Cendric and I left the car. As soon as we did, I felt the ripple of the magisphere as we stepped onto the Fae side of PPG Place. I bit back a twinge of fear. Last time I’d been here, I’d had to deal with a nasty-ass genie hyped up on love potion. Now, she was dead.
The trees lining the sidewalks flickered with nets of lights that cascaded over the entire area to form a dome. Fae grouped together on the silver-veined marble, their eyes skimming over us, then returning to their groups. There was no red carpet for any Fae event, not even for the queen herself. The fragile truce between races relied on egalitarianism whenever possible. However, that didn’t mean the city’s official blood binder and his half-Jinn wife didn’t arouse concern and interest. Especially because this was my first appearance at a grand gala.
Whatever. A party was a party. And with a quick glance around the area, I could pick out the Fae who’d used my romantic consulting services over the years—and the ones who’d hit on me at clubs. Oh, and a few here or there who I’d dated for a bit. Maybe ten or fifteen. Over the course of ten years, that really wasn’t many. I didn’t drag out relationships if I didn’t see a future.
Taking Cendric’s arm, we strode across the plaza toward the entrance. Another zip of magic revealed that the door didn’t take us into the normal lobby area. Instead, we now stood at the top of a grand, golden staircase leading down into the main hall. Lush foliage and flowers grew out of the golden wood on both railings and twined over the arched pillars that lined the hall on either side. The hall was the length of a football field, paved with forest-green marble polished to a shine. The ceiling above us vaulted to cathedral levels with even more of the flowering vines edging a crystal-clear ceiling with millions of stars peering down. And on the far end of the hall, on a raised dais, sat Queen Epriana. Or I assumed the speck sitting on the gleaming throne was her.
I gulped.
Okay. This wasn’t a normal party.
A tree elf in immaculate green robes gave us both a cold, scrutinizing glance, then announced. “Presenting Cendric Antalek, Blood Lord of the Court, and his companion, Allisandra Evanenko Mahdi Al-Maram.”
Shadows flickered over my husband’s face at the slights. Not only did the presenter call me Cid’s companion instead of his mate, but I didn’t get a title. At all. By marriage, I should have at least been “lady,” and Cid and I had agreed to hyphenate our names for public occasions. Essentially, despite Cendric having talked with them in advance, the announcer had given me the hooker introduction.
His glare at the announcer pronounced his doom—doom we couldn’t afford right now. I squeezed his arm. “Hey, no need to be jealous just because my name’s longer.”
“Jealousy is not what I am feeling.” His eyes turned dark as they met the tree elf’s stare. For a second, shadows
encompassed the tree elf’s eyes.
Cendric’s voice turned soft and dangerous. “I just took one year of your life away.”
The tree elf went paler than his long hair. “You couldn’t—”
“Yes, I can. Actually, I took a decade, not a year.” My husband held the tree elf’s gaze. “In the form of a justice harbinger. If you are truly innocent, then the harbinger will fall upon whoever coerced you. Otherwise, you will bear it yourself.” He gave a fanged smile. “But worry not. Your death could still be centuries distant. Or it could be tomorrow. That part, I know not.”
The vampire gave a short nod, then turned toward me. “Shall we, my love?”
I blinked. “Was all that for real?”
We began descending the staircase. “In a sense, yes. Ravens are harbingers of death, and on occasion, can quicken it. But the individual must believe the harbinger, and so it is fueled by the magic of the person it’s spoken over. The main trick is invoking fear and belief. Destiny has the ultimate verdict.” He scowled. “But a disgraceful introduction like that could set back your status among the Fae for years.”
“Since I was a criminal for most of my life, I think I’m still doing okay.” I paused. “Although, I’m cool with you defending my honor. My first thought would be to rip out the guilty party’s eyeballs and use them to play ping-pong.”
Yeah, I’d just said that. The announcer had gotten to me more than I thought.
Cendric shook his head. “A waste of eyeballs. They taste far too good to be used in a game.”
“Hey, find your own eyeball victim.”
I scanned the room casually, keeping my expression friendly and just a bit wide-eyed. Let them underestimate me. Next up: getting in touch with Kiran. A large dance floor sprawled out from the base of the stairs. It was separated into different racial dancing areas, and very few mixed between them except when an official Intermingling Anthem played, mandating finding a partner of another race.
Along the sides of the halls, framed by arched pillars, were alcoves featuring the food, beverages, and decorative accents of the different Fae races represented at the gala.
“Shall we?” Cendric asked.
“Might as well.” I nodded. A promenade would let the guests get their fill of studying us, setting them more at ease and making them think they had the upper hand. In turn, it would allow us to observe the room and make our presence known as the city’s two blood binders—even if the obnoxious announcer had only proclaimed one. Plus, it would allow me to scout out Kiran. The orange thread of magic connecting us was still there but had grown ever finer and thinner. His mother’s doing? I couldn’t tell. With all the different magical vibes in the air, I’d need to get closer to zero in on Kiran’s location.
The shifters had several alcoves to themselves due to the variety of animals. The tree elves had a portion, both the spirits of the native trees and the immigrants, and next to them were the other elemental races: dryads, naiads, mers, etc. Then there were the dwarves, and next to them an entirely empty area save for some small wooden bowls. I shot Cendric a glance? “No-shows?”
“The local little people, as opposed to dwarven immigrants,” he answered. “They only show up if they are so inclined, but they always insist offerings be laid out. Another way to keep the peace.”
“Got it.”
We reached the end of the hall. On the dais, Queen Epriana sat on a throne of carved golden wood with a broad display of peacock feathers fanning out behind her. A delicate crown of silver rested in her braided black hair, and a strapless turquoise gown set off her golden skin. Her attention was divided between surveying the room and Melrose Durante, who sat to her right in the guest of honor position. Blood-red fabric emblazoned with the symbol of the Houses of the Dead draped across the back of his chair. I dared to read Melrose’s mind. His desire to stay up in the chair away from others was on nearly equal footing with his fear that it would send the wrong impression to the queen. Her desire for him was so obvious I didn’t even need to read her.
Near the dais stood several courtiers. Grand Vizier Vaughn Mutamo was among them, his clean-shaven deep brown head gleaming in the chandelier light. Across from him, Theiya surveyed the crowd in her full scarlet general’s uniform complete with decorative medals and not-so-decorative weaponry polished and at the ready. She met my stare with her usual inscrutable expression. Across from them stood a petite woman in a black sheath dress with loose, shiny black curls falling to her shoulders. As soon as her blue eyes fell on me, her lips trembled, as if in fear. But those icy eyes never wavered from me. I knew that look. I had received it way too often in my life.
Malda Nazari saw me as the enemy. As the most dangerous threat in the room. From the way her fingers were twitching, creating tiny bursts of red flame, she was instinctively expecting a fight.
“A bold move, Blood Lord,” she said, her voice calm as frozen water. “Bringing your companion to the gala when her fate has not yet been decided by law.”
I clenched my teeth.
“Her fate has been decided by law, and she has been approved,” Cendric responded. “You alone seem unconvinced, Lady Malda.”
She smiled innocently. “This area is my home. Naturally I would want to ensure my safety.”
“And the safety of your son, hmm?” I asked. “Surely as a mother, his fate concerns you as well.”
Her eye twitched, and her voice grew even colder. “Yes. I always keep what is mine. I am no child, as you are. I know how to handle my affairs well.”
Rip her apart.
Nope. Not an option yet.
Instead, I gave her a friendly smile, keeping my posture neutral. Always good to keep my enemies confused, especially the ones who’d started the fight before I’d been born. Who had charted out every path, outmatched me at every turn.
All while hiding in the shadows like a small, sniveling coward.
My own fingers twitched, tempted beyond reason to portal this woman into another dimension.
Preferably one where she could be harmed by Raith. Or maybe a trip into outer space to suffocate.
Cendric’s hand pressed lightly into my back as soft words in Hungarian met my ear. “Not yet. We give her every opportunity.
“Yes,” I replied in the same language. “Every opportunity.”
Then I would strike.
A figure stepped out of the shadows of a pillar. Kiran Singh, in a simple, all-black suit with a white tie. His expression was the usual stony reserve he saved for these occasions, but once his eyes lit on me, his face was ablaze with desire and anger.
I fought a flinch. Either he was playing the role of rejected lover really well, or Malda had given him a fresh dose of potion.
Or both. It could be both.
“All right, team,” I muttered into my earvine. “Let’s start this.”
Affirmatives from everyone echoed back. At that moment, the musicians, prompted by Gideon, chose to play a generic tune that allowed for many different styles of dance.
Kiran’s voice rang out in a way that attracted nearby attention. “A dance, Allisandra Evanenko?” A sly grin curved his features. “For old time’s sake?”
I gave him a demure stare in return. “One dance only.”
“We shall see what you decide afterward.”
With a sigh of reluctance, I allowed him to lead me to the floor and to take me in his arms in a classic waltz. “Do you even know how to dance, Kir? We only had those half-drunk slow dances in your studio.”
His eyes flickered orange. “I’m a man of surprising talents, Sandy.”
Hopefully, surprising allegiances as well.
We fell into step, circling the room. I was equally aware of the glazed look in his eyes—and the rapid pulse of blood rushing through his veins. He was anxious and annoyed but keeping composed. Good.
Kiran stared down into my eyes. “You grow even more beautiful every time we meet. And each time I’m less and less inclined to let you go.”
&n
bsp; “But you know—”
“Yes, it isn’t my choice.” He shook his head. “The Fae have a long and illustrious history of women falling for men who bind them in marriage.”
I snorted. “And Jinn have a long and illustrious history of loathing the very ground their captors walk upon. Especially when those Jinn are happily married.”
“To a man who’s ensnared you.”
I stepped on his toe. On purpose. “We’re dealing with that. You want a woman to fall for your tall, dark, taciturn, and oh-so-roguish demeanor? Find a vigilante with a chip on her shoulder, a broken past, and an allergy to smiling.”
“Always with an answer.” His smile faded. “I’m afraid you’ve ruined me for that type of woman.”
“Well, you always did want to be single, in the end.” My voice softened as he pulled me close. “If all goes as planned, you’ll be free of her. Is that still of interest to you?”
My stomach tightened, and I sent up a silent prayer that it would be. That letting him run back to Malda and get more evidence hadn’t been a mistake. One of Allis’s gambles that failed miserably.
He spun me around and pulled me close.
“Hmmm. It might be—”
“Allis!” A new voice suddenly blasted through my earvine, loud enough for me to wince. Josie Framer. As a Sensitive, she couldn’t wear an earvine, but I’d had her phone adapted with magic tech in case of emergencies.
This had better be an emergency.
“Allis, listen to me! I need your help, now!”
Kiran frowned. “Something biting your ear, Sandy?”
I groaned and muttered, “Josie, what is it? Life or death only, I said.”
“I know, and it is!” Her voice cracked into a shriek. “Figures it was all a stupid potion! It has to be, and now they’re all acting crazy, and I can’t stop them. Rafe is trying, but he’s half-crazy too! I knew his interest was too good to be true.”
Wish You Weren't Here Page 20
