She’s concerned over the dress? I shoulda known. I’m about to put my sharp tongue to good use when she speaks again.
"And please, promise me you’ll watch out for Tater? He is indeed an old friend. I owe him much, and I do not wish any harm to befall him."
If I didn't know any better, I’d swear there were tears in her eyes. Before I can tell for sure, she turns away from me, busying herself with packing up her pots of colors and powders. My biting retort dies on my lips. She truly did care for the half man. I hadn't realized they were so close. I find myself wondering what their connection is. They must have a hell of a history if it has the ability to change her from the unfeeling, coin-hungry witch she normally is into an actual human being. Maybe after this is over, I’ll find out.
Coral is a bit more forthcoming in her praise. She looks at me with a beaming smile, her hands clasped to her chest as she studies her handiwork.
"Oh, my gods. You look beautiful, Miss. A true queen fit for any ball. Oh, don't forget this. You are so going to enjoy your evening."
She rushes at me with the sparkling blue half mask, the most important part of this stupid costume.
Enjoy my evening? Not exactly the words I would use. She seems to be forgetting that this is a rescue quest, not a true ball. I almost wish it was just some stupid party to worry about. Maybe then my heart wouldn't be beating outta my chest, and I wouldn't feel like I’m gonna retch up my supper. And the evening is only beginning.
Mack and Jax wait for me at the bottom of the stairs, and I almost bolt at the sight of 'em standing there. I feel like such an impostor in this costume. I cain't do this, I think frantically. I cain't pull this off. I halfway turn, about to run when Jax looks up at me, and I’m immobilized by his mere presence. He’s dressed in black trousers and long-tailed coat. The startling white, high-collared shirt is stretched across his broad chest and offsets his sun-kissed skin, making it appear even darker. His unruly hair has been closely cut and shaped, every hair in place. The prickly stubble I’m used to seeing is now gone, replaced by a clean-shaven face, enhancing his square jaw and the little dent in his chin. Shizen, he looks damn good. I feel my jaw drop and quickly snap it shut, the embarrassing heat rolling over me in waves.
Stop starin', I chide myself, but I cain't help it. I ain't ever seen anyone look so good. I wanna tear my eyes away, but I cain't. They lock with his as we simply stare at each another.
Oh, gods, what is he thinkin'? I wonder. I look stupid; I know it. This whole getup is stupid. What was I thinkin'? I ain't got the right amount of chest to pull off this dress.
A thousand self-doubts rush through my head, but I still don't take my eyes offa his face. If only he would say something.
"Tara! Tara!" Finn's voice cuts through my frantic thoughts, and my eyes finally leave Jax.
"What?" I say to Finn.
"I said you look pretty and be careful. Didn't you hear me? I said it like three times. You gone deaf or something?"
"I heard you," I say, cutting off his rambling. I don't need Jax knowing how much he’s rattled me.
"Well, why didn't you answer me then? Geez, last time I tell you that you look nice," he says, glowering at me.
"Sorry," I mutter, slowly descending down the steps to keep from tripping over the dress and silently thanking the gods that I ain't wearing heels. Finn is still glaring at me as I finally reach the bottom, but then his face cracks and he flies at me, his scrawny arms going tight 'round my waist.
"Please promise me you'll be careful, Tara. I don't want anything bad to happen to you or Jax or Mack…"
His words break off, and I can feel his skinny little body trembling with emotion.
"Hey, it's okay. We'll be fine. You ain't gotta be worryin' about us. It's just a party. Nuthin' dangerous about that, right?" I say as I pry his arms offa my waist. I bend down to his level, so I can look him in the eye. "Besides, you know I'm super strong. You've seen it. Between my New Blood powers and Mack's training, the Prezedant or his stupid soldiers don't stand a chance. It's them you should be worried about," I tease, and he lets loose a shaky laugh.
"Now, you and Cat behave yourselves. Coral said she would make ya some sweet biscuits if you're real good. Just make sure you save some for me and Ben, all right?"
He nods at me as he wipes his sleeve across his nose, and I ruffle his hair. Cat sticks her big head in between us and nuzzles Finn's arm, trying to comfort him, and I give her a quick scratch behind the ears.
"Take care of him, girl," I whisper at her, and the blue tongue gives my hand a quick lick of agreement.
"We should go," Mack says, and I stand back up.
Jax meets my eyes again, but his soft look from earlier is gone, making me think that I’d imagined the naked admiration I thought I saw.
"You have your mask?" he says, all business now, and I nod at him as I hold it up. His is nowhere as fancy as mine. It's just plain white, and he jams it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"Okay," he says, looking from Mack to me. "Let's do this."
And my rolling gut threatens to spill my supper out over the fancy dress once again.
I take one look at the massive house upon our arrival and feel the bottom drop outta my stomach. Shizen. It looks like the medieval castles I’d read about in Lily's picture books. How in the gods' names will we ever be able to find Ben and Lily in a place this size? It made Sanctuary look like a shanty in comparison. And the lights. The oversized palace is lit up like a thousand stars in the night sky. Lights in different shades of blues and greens and reds sparkle, and I ain't able to tear my eyes away. Even the pathway and stairs under our feet from the carriage to the house is lit with the wondrous colors. Gonna be real hard to get away under the cover of darkness when it's lit up like the middle of the day.
But that’s only the beginning of the curious oddities this place has to offer. At every point you looked, your senses are assaulted with images. People are spread out everywhere over the lit-up grounds, watching the festivities being carried out under tents of all colors and sizes, almost like the marketplace stalls in Littlepass. There are jugglers tossing and catching knives of all things. I’d seen that sorta thing done with stones before but never with knives. Grown men dressed as fools riding in circles on one-wheeled, metal contraptions, kinda like what I’d seen in the underground iron city. Then there are others who appear to be swallowing long, metal swords and some breathing fire. What the hell kinda night terror place is this? Are they people or monsters? I ain't ever seen people breathe fire before. I reckon Mack feels my panic 'cause he places one hand under my arm to calm me and whispers in my ear, "It's all tricks, Tara. Gimmicks used to amuse and entertain. It’s all harmless."
Harmless? I have a feeling here, in the Prezedant's territory, there ain't no such thing.
I lose count of the number of guards we pass by, but at seeing there's so many of 'em, my gut burns with fear. Having to walk Lily and Ben back past 'em all, whether in costume or not, is a risk. I can only hope there are way too many people here for 'em to even notice two extra guests. As much as I don't wanna think about it, all the doubts about our plan come bubbling back up.
I'm grateful Mack does all the talking. I simply paste on a wooden smile and nod as they welcome me. We show our invitation with every bunch of guards we walk past 'til finally we’re ushered into a large, cavernous room.
This room is the epitome of luxury. White marble floors are spread out before us. They are shined to perfection, making 'em look more like glass, and with so many lights sparkling offa 'em, it kinda hurts my eyes. It musta taken hours for his people to make 'em shine that way. Statues line the room in all different sizes and poses, but all of the same man. The Prezedant sure does think highly of himself, seems like. Two grand stairways flank both sides of the room, and right smack in the middle of 'em is the biggest hearth and fire I’ve ever seen. A number of people lounge in the comfy looking chairs in fronta the fire, and their laughter echoes around the large room. The stone
hearth is built to reach the upper floors, and the walls on either side of it are lined with so many paintings there's barely any wall to see. The paintings are a strange collection. There's one that consists of a bunch of long-haired, bearded men in robes sitting around a long table, having supper looks like. Next to that is one of an old gramma and grada standing in fronta their cabin holding a giant pitch fork. What an odd thing to paint. Maybe they were his ma and pa?
My eyes are pulled up even higher, and I crane my neck to get a better view. The ceiling above us ain't no ceiling at all but a glass dome so as you can see straight through to the night sky. A glass roof. Out in the sand lands, that roof wouldn't have lasted a week. It’s as pretty as it is impractical. A thousand stars sparkle back at us through the amazing structure, and I find myself fervently hoping one of the sparkling bodies is Grada, watching over us and keeping us safe. Thinking this somehow makes me feel better.
A young man dressed in white approaches me and touches my shoulders ever so slightly.
"Your wrap, Miss?"
My wrap? What about it? He looks at me expectantly. Does he want me to take it off? I glance at Mack, and he nods at me. Gritting my teeth, I undo the ties, and the young man takes my covering. I ain't sure if the cold shiver that passes over me is caused by the night air on my shoulders or the look of appreciation in Jax's eyes as they roam over me before he quickly looks away. I cain't help the little smile that touches my lips. Take that, slag, I think.
I reckon the Prezedant has a weakness for shiny gold baubles just as much as statues of himself 'cause the grand ballroom we are ushered into next is awash with 'em. Everything is gold, from the doors to the statues to the fancy electric lights hanging from the ceiling, bathing the room in a yellow glow. The room is also full of men and women, decorated in an array of colors, feathers, beads, and bangles. Each one is dressed in the finest of materials, though some of the dresses make mine look modest in comparison to their skimpiness. One woman walks by, and her dress is so sheer I swear I can see most of her lady parts. Her mask covers more than her dress. Talk about no sense of decency.
The sight of 'em all, shizen, even the smell of 'em all is overpowering. Their fancy body oils and perfumes hang so heavy in the air I find it kinda hard to breathe. Everyone seems to be wearing the same kinda masks we are; the disguises do nuthin' to hide the undercurrent of excitement buzzing throughout the room. You can almost feel the frenzied energy like a pulse.
To my surprise, a young girl no more than thirteen or so born years approaches us immediately. She, too, is dressed in pristine white just like the boy out front, right down to the boots on her feet. Not a scuff on her. She don't look at me at all as she offers a silver platter to me, her head bowed in obedience and maybe fear. I ain't sure what. I study the tray offered in my direction. It ain't got nuthin' on it but a bunch of pale, pink vials filled with a silvery liquid. Curious. Figuring the thing to do is take the offering, I reach out only to have my hand grabbed away by Mack. I reckon he doesn't want me taking it, but to cover his panic from everyone else, he affectionately pats the back of my hand and draws me closer to his side.
"Trust me, Tara, that is something you do not want to indulge in," he whispers in my ear, but he is still smiling, belying the urgent warning he's sending my way.
I give a slight nod to let him know the warning is noted. No taking the silvery drink. Got it.
"Thank you, but not now, little one," I say to the girl, and she starts as if not used to being spoken to with kindness.
She glances up, her expression hesitant, and I'm gut-punched at how her little heart-shaped face reminds me so much of my kin, Jane.
"What's your name?" I ask, and panic spreads ‘cross her pale face and she darts off like a little mouse suddenly confronted by a starving cat. What did I say?
I watch her hurry past others dressed the same as her, and I realize they are young'uns too. All of 'em. In fact, every person in the room that ain't wearing a mask is a young'un. They are all dressed in the same identical white outfits and carrying platters filled with those pink vials or tall glasses containing a golden liquid. As I watch 'em serving the brightly dressed patrons, I understand the role they fill. They’re servants, captured or bought through flesh trading, no doubt. Innocents, here to tend to the needs of the elite. The thought of that bothers me something fierce, and I can feel that familiar spark shoot through my blood, but as if Jax can sense everything going through my head, he grabs my other hand.
"Let it go," he says through the fake smile plastered on his face, and I can see why.
A gaggle of half-dressed missus treats us to intense scrutiny. The dress the woman in the front wears barely contains her body, and her bulgy parts fall out wherever they can over the tight confines. She flips up her mask, and I feel the familiar, coal-black eyes rake me over dismissively and then move on to Jax with interest. Missus Bodes. She heads towards us, and I can feel Mack and Jax stiffen beside me.
"Captain Mackenzie," she drawls in a silky voice. "I'd recognize that one beady eye anywhere. And I would definitely recognize you, my dear Jackson."
"Good evening, Mistress Bodes, a pleasure as always." Mack's tone suggests anything but, and I find myself prickling at her rudely overlooking me.
"Good evening," I say loudly, taking care to pronounce it like Tater had taught me with the "ing" on the end. Don't matter. I coulda told her to go suck a rotten egg; she ain't the least bit interested in what I'm saying. She flicks her eyes my way for a brief moment, gives a stiff nod, and then turns her attention back to the men.
"I'm surprised we didn't see you last week, Captain Mackenzie, what with the investigation and all at the Camon House."
Mack's surprise is genuine as he stares at her.
"I'm sorry, I have been occupied elsewhere. What investigation is that?"
"Why, the attack on their gardens of course. Apparently, someone broke into their gardens and let loose all their caged muties. It was quite the uproar; the Camons are quite distraught. That garden cost them a small fortune I heard," she says, like it’s the news of the century. Mack's eyes glance my way as I fiddle with an imaginary hangnail, and Jax suddenly finds his shoes very interesting.
"Did they find the ones responsible for that horrendous crime?" Mack says, and Missus Bodes shrugs her shoulders, her eyes now fixated on Jax.
"Who cares? Keeping trolls in your garden is so last year." She waves her hand at Mack, the conversation obviously done.
Good, I think. Don't wanna be talking about that right now anyways. Although from the look on Mack's face, the conversation between us is far from over. I’m gonna have to fess up to him about what me and Jax had done sooner or later. As much as I don't regret what we did, later sounds better to me.
"I was waiting very impatiently for you tonight, my dear." Her strange, over-bright eyes travel over Jax as if she truly wanted to gobble him up. Her gloved hands grip his arms and move up and down in a way much too familiar for my liking.
"Oh, I had forgotten those muscles you hide under your clothing. You are so strong! And that little dent in your chin, I did not notice that before. It is very alluring. Do you dance, darling?"
Darling? I have to bite my tongue to stay quiet when all I want to do is snarl at her to back the hell off. I want to take his hand in mine to let her know she ain't got no claim on him. He is, after all, my betrothed. But I cain't cause a scene, and to his credit, Jax answers much more politely than I would have.
"I cannot say no to a beautiful woman. Shall we?" He leads her away, her delighted laughter echoing in my ears like a braying donkey. I fight back the unexplainable urge to lay her out flat with a knuckle sandwich. Instead, I give in to my burning curiosity.
"What’s wrong with her, Mack? Her eyes are so strange," I say, my own eyes watching every move of the couple on the floor. Jax is trying hard to keep his distance, but I swear the woman Bodes is trying to fit him inside her dress along with the rest of her.
"Silver spack,
" Mack says.
I glance over at him in puzzlement. He nods at the young'uns still circling the room with their fancy platters.
"The vials they are offering. A mood-altering medicinal known as silver spack. Very common among this crowd and provided in abundance to his elite by the Prezedant himself."
I still don't understand. "Mood alterin'? What do you mean?"
"It is known to have different effects on different people, from intense euphoria and elation to hallucinations to violence sometimes. A very volatile substance, one never knows what effect it will have," he says.
"Then why drink it?" I say, baffled.
"Because they can," he answers simply, and I suddenly understand why the room has such an undercurrent of frenzy and mania.
It’s the silver spack. They’re all drinking it. Oh, gods, as if tonight isn't dangerous enough, now we have a room full of crazed maniacs to deal with. Great.
To my annoyance, the music seems to go on forever, but finally it ends, and I watch Jax bow politely to the she-devil and walk away. She watches him with those over-bright eyes, and I swear I see her lick her lips like some wolfling about to eat its prey. Like Jax is gonna be her next meal. I almost expect her to leap and take a bite at his unsuspecting back, and I feel my muscles bunch, ready to come to his defense and take her down. But instead, she returns to her pack with obvious reluctance.
"I’m expected to mingle with my men," Mack says as soon as Jax joins us again. "It would draw too much attention if I stuck by your side all night. Just … try to fit in. Dance, eat, check out the room, but remember, do not take any of the silver spack. I will rejoin you as soon as I am able."
As I watch Mack walk away, I feel exposed to the curious looks of the people in the room. Mack had acted as a barrier and without him it’s almost as if they can tell we are fakes. That we don't belong here.
Jax musta felt the same 'cause he whispers in my ear as soon as the music starts up again, "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't be able to keep a bit of food in my stomach right now. Maybe we should dance before anyone tries to engage us in conversation."
New Bloods Boxset Page 41
