At one end of the dance floor, an orchestra played. Gray and Cash glided across the floor in some very old dance that involved quite a bit of clapping.
“How does Cash know this dance?” Rye asked.
“It’s the masks. They sort of take over and move you through the motions?”
Rye grimaced. “I do not think I would like that. Why not just dance ourselves?”
Tamsin did her best impression of Gray. “Is that an invitation?”
“Sure, why not?” Rye did an impression of Cash, but he sounded like a cowboy.
They moved down to the floor and as soon as they got in range of the orchestra, the masks too over. Rye didn’t seem happy about it, but to Tamsin it was a delight. Her feet moved like butterflies across the floor, even in her heels. How much practice would it take to dance like this without magic? A lifetime?
She laughed and spun and clapped and one dance effortlessly changed into the next. She switched partners and danced with Cash and then Gray and then someone else, and someone else.
This was part of the magic, she realized—part of the plan of the dance. As the songs continued the dances grew more raucous and Tamsin saw her protectors only rarely, across the dance floor.
The orchestra switched things up. Chamber music became big-band swing which became disco. They played David Bowie’s “Golden Years.” They played the Time Warp. Tamsin laughed as she did the Locomotion, the Twist, and the chicken dance. She Whipped and she Nae Nae’d. She did the Charleston and the Lindy hop.
After an hour she was sweaty and panting. So of course then it was time for some slow dances.
Tamsin looked around for her protectors, but they were lost in the sea of people.
At some point, though she knew not when, the dozens dancing had become hundreds.
But it was okay. She felt safe in the anonymity of the dance. No one knew who she was here. No one could judge her or try and steal her soul. When the slow dances began she found herself in the arms of a blandly handsome blond man with a rather large mustache that twirled up at the ends. He looked to be about her age. The man looked a bit ridiculous in his emerald green tights and tunic. His outfit made her think of nothing so much as a stage version of Robin Hood done with expensively bad taste.
“You look exquisite, my dear,” the man said. His accent was very nearly the same as Gray’s. He looked at her like she was a cartoon hamburger and he was a wolf.
A thought tingled in the back of Tamsin’s mind. “I know we aren’t supposed to discuss our real names,” she said and trailed off.
The man’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Yes, but an exception can be made for the fairer sex, if bed play is in one’s future.” His lascivious smile transformed him from blandly handsome to mildly disgusting.
But Tamsin had a plan.
She did the best highborn accent she could. “This is a bit of a stretch, but do you know Esmé? Only I haven’t seen her for ages and I was hoping to hear how she was doing.” She dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper. “I heard about her and Gray.”
He bristled in that special offended way that told her that this was indeed William, Gray’s ex-best friend.
“Esmé? Yes, she’s here. I hear she’s even hoping to get back with that penniless scoundrel at the dance. She says she has forgiven him, but really we all know she just hopes his claim to the throne will pan out and she can ascend the social ranks.” William puffed out his chest as he talked. This guy had been Gray’s best friend?
“Oh, is Gray here too?” Tamsin asked innocently.
“I doubt it,” William said with a sneer. “I hear through the grapevine, that he has shacked up with a lowborn whore.”
Tamsin smiled wide to avoid making the face she wanted to. What were those words Gray had embedded in William’s mind again? She placed her hands on his chest as they swayed back and forth monotonously. The slow dances seemed to be free of the instructive control that had moved her through the fun fast dances. She leaned close to William and whispered in his ear in the most seductive tone she could manage. “Do you want to get out of here?”
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “What did you have in mind?”
“I know a place down the highway that serves the most amazing marzipan waffles.” William bent over double and shuddered. His eyes had rolled back in his head.
What had Gray said? Those three words would give William “violent and debilitating orgasms.” He wasn’t wrong.
“Are you okay?” Tamsin cooed. “Do you need help?”
William tried to speak but all he could do was whimper. A dark stain spread across the front of his tights.
“Do you not like marzipan waffles or highways?” she asked again. Maybe it was cruel to trigger his curse twice in a row. But he really shouldn’t have called her a whore.
He fell to the ground and curled up into a moaning, twitching ball.
“This man needs help!” Tamsin called out.
Two tuxedoed servants rushed forward. “He just collapsed here. I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she said. “All I know if that his name is Marzipan Highway. Strange, I know.”
William cried out again as two more forced orgasms utterly destroyed him.
Had she gone too far? Did anonymity lead to cruelness, or was this justice?
The servants picked William up and as they carried him away Tamsin heard them say, “Mr. Marzipan Highway? Is that your name? Marzipan Highway?” But William couldn’t even scream.
Tamsin had lost interest in the slow dances. She went off in search of refreshments and found her men at the nearest of the many bars.
“Have a nice dance?” Gray asked. “What happened to that poor man?”
“That, dear Gray,” Tamsin kept speaking in the affected accent, “was William. Your nemesis. He seemed to dislike greatly hearing those trapped words you put in his mind.”
Gray spit out his drink. “You didn’t?”
“I did!”
“Oh, how did it feel to trigger them?” His face lit up with excitement.
But before Tamsin could answer, the lights in the hall dimmed and the music stopped. A spotlight snapped to life illuminating a floating balcony that sailed silently over the crowd. Five people stood on the balcony, but Tamsin couldn’t make them out until they sailed closer.
“Something’s wrong,” Cash said. “The spirits are freaking out.”
“Mine are doing quite well,” Gray quipped as he downed another cocktail.
Tamsin recognized one of the people on the floating balcony. “That’s Hannah.” She was standing behind a handsome older couple with golden skin and hair. They must have been her parents. Flanking Hannah were two girls who had that plastic glamour sheen to their skin. But one had green hair that writhed like snakes and the other had black and purple hair cut in a severe bob, so Tamsin was ninety-nine percent sure they were Grace and Janet.
“Oh calm down everyone,” Gray said. “This is just the longwinded speeches part of the evening. It’s an excellent time to get extremely drunk. The Hearthhomes do tend to go on for quite a while.”
“Why are Grace and Janet up there?” Tamsin asked. Everything about this seemed wrong.
Something small moved in the shadow behind Hannah on the platform.
“Why aren’t Hannah and those girls wearing masks?” Rye asked. “Something is wrong. Take off your masks, my friends. Take them off now.”
Cash untied his. Gray pulled his off. Rye removed his. Around them people began staring.
Could Tamsin stand the stares? The whispers? The judgment? It was so freeing, being anonymous.
Rye took her hands in his. “Please, my love. Do this. We will protect you.”
Up on the platform, Lord Hearthhome was speaking but it was just blather and niceties. Behind him though, Hannah was smirking.
Tamsin ripped off her mask. It was just in time.
Hannah shoved her father aside. “That’s enough, Daddy. Go to sleep now.” She snapped her finge
rs and her parents both slumped and fell backwards. Janet and Grace caught them, then dropped them at their feet. There were murmurings of dissent amongst the crowd, though many of them laughed and seemed to think it was part of the show.
“Hello, I’m Hannah Hearthhome and none of you matter.” The crowd grew more restless. An older man with a beard than reached his belt threw his drink on the crowd and shouted obscenities up at the balcony. “Well, actually there is one of you that matters. And only one. Where are you, little cherry? I know you’re here.” She shaded her eyes from the spotlight and scanned the crowd. The thing in the shadows moved to stay between her and the light.
“We should go. Now,” Gray said.
“We should jump her,” Cash said. “We can take her.”
Rye slowly removed his suit coat and shirt, revealing his broad inked up chest.
Tamsin watched Hannah. She could feel a pull coming from where Hannah stood. It was a distant and dull sensation, like when someone touches your foot after it has fallen asleep.
It was her soul. Her soul was up there with Hannah.
The girl scanned the crowd more. “Can I get the spotlight down there?” She shouted. But it didn’t move. Hannah nodded to Janet, who floated through the air towards the spotlight operator.
“My soul is up there,” Tamsin said quietly.
“Then the demon is with her,” Rye said.
They had no choice. If her soul was there, they had to try for it. Which was probably exactly what Hannah was counting on.
“Ugh, this is annoying,” Hannah groaned. “I have an idea. How about everyone wearing one of those masks my great grandfather made lies down on the ground.”
Every guest in the room who had one of the Lughnasa masks lay down. There were maybe a dozen people standing. It was the world’s biggest, sickest version of Simon Says.
It was child’s play for Janet to pin them under the blinding spotlight.
Hannah’s laugh filled the hall. “Oh my god, you really are this dumb. We had a bet on whether you would show and it looks like I owe Gracie a coke.” She had let go of any sense of restraint. She had cranked her bitch knob up to eleven. “I can’t believe you’re into this naive moron, Gray. I thought you were better than this? What could you possibly see in this lowborn cherry?”
Gray stepped forward, getting between the spotlight and Tamsin. “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and everything you could never be, you vapid girl.”
Tamsin dropped to her knees and crawled out of the spotlight. Gray was distracting the girls. Hannah’s face contorted into a mask of rage. She didn’t look well. Behind her, free of the pressure of the spotlight, a shadow leapt onto Hannah’s shoulder.
It was a cat with three tails and a six-pointed crown. Around its neck hung a blue glowing jewel on a silver chain.
Gray was launching a volley of insults at Hannah, most of which Tamsin didn’t even understand.
The cat was the King in Shadow. The jewel just had to be her soul. It had to be.
Tamsin whispered to Cash what she’d seen. He nodded and whispered something to Rye. Rye smiled hugely as he touched his biceps. The man turned to living iron. Tamsin had heard about Rye’s trick during the demon attack, but she hadn’t seen it. It was magnificent. He was magnificent.
“Enough!” Hannah screamed. “Tonight is my coronation as the Queen in Shadow and I will not have it ruined by your coarse and common tongue, Gray Aisles.”
“That’s funny,” Gray yelled. “It was just a few weeks ago that you were begging for my coarse and common tongue.”
Hannah smiled like a cat about to eat the canary. “Yes, but I have a new boyfriend now. And I’m pretty sure he can beat you up.” The cat that was the King in Shadow leapt off her shoulder to the edge of the floating balcony. His form began to shake and change and expand.
All he needed was the rest of Tamsin’s soul and he would win.
Rye bent down and picked up Cash in his arms.
“What are you doing?” Tamsin whispered.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. I saw this in a comic book once.” Cash winked at her.
“Ugh, I’m bored of this,” Hannah announced. “I’d ask you to hand the girl over and promise you I wouldn’t hurt you, but you won’t turn her over and I won’t not hurt you, Gray. So how about this?” Hannah cleared her throat and lifted her wand like a conductor facing an orchestra. “These masks are so useful, aren’t they? Everyone stand up!”
Hannah lifted her wand and everyone in the room jumped to their feet. The same spells that made people dance let Hannah control them.
“Now, everyone grab Tamsin and rip her to pieces.”
Several things happened at once.
The spotlight flicked to Tamsin and a thousand and one people tried to tear her arms off. At the same time, Rye drew back his arm and hurled Cash into the air like a spear. With his supernaturally enhanced strength he almost threw the shifter over the floating balcony.
Gray flicked his wand and the spotlight exploded. The room was once again full of shadows cast by the lights outside.
Cash shifted as he flew through the air, becoming a very large and very angry wolf missile aimed directly at the King in Shadow.
A hundred hands reached for Tamsin. She lashed out with her blue flame, but she didn’t want to hurt anyone. Her flames did little more than push people back a step. The crowd didn’t have their minds. They couldn’t be scared or reasoned with. She tried to yank the masks off the party goers, but it was impossible. Only the wearer could remove the mask.
Rye grabbed a table and swung it like a bat at the mind-controlled crowd. It made a sickening thump when it connected with the people and hurled them thirty feet in the air. Rye swung and Tamsin pushed, but it was impossible. There were too many of them.
Cash slammed into the King in Shadow, biting the demon and clawing for his heart.
Hannah and Grace hurled sheer destructive magic at the heroes, but Gray summoned a shield and knocked it aside. The effort sent Gray sprawling.
The King engulfed Cash in his darkness. Tamsin could see the razored smile of the demon.
They were losing.
A lance of light stabbed down from above. It was Janet. The attack was headed straight for Tamsin. This was it. This was her end. But at least she went out fighting, yeah?
Rye stepped into the path of Janet’s attack. The magic lance punched a hole straight through his chest, as big as a fist. Tamsin screamed. Janet cackled from her unseen perch.
Rye collapsed to the ground, his body still iron.
Up on the platform, Cash had vanished entirely into the demon. Hannah waved her wand, directing a new wave of mind-controlled wizards to attack Tamsin. And Grace was doing something to the King in Shadow, channeling energy into him, it looked like. Was she feeding him?
“Gray, what can we do?”
“I’m fresh out of ideas, love.” He summoned another shield around the two of them and poor, fallen Rye. Dozens of masked wizards slammed their fists and faces against it, bloodying themselves. Gray was grinning, hiding the strain of the spell behind a brave face.
Tamsin wanted to kiss him, one last time. It would be one last thing to cherish before she was sucked down into oblivion. But she couldn’t distract him. Maybe there was a way that only she needed to die. Just her and not her lovers.
Hannah laughed as her zombie horde crawled on top of each other, covering Gray’s shield completely. He fell to his knees next to Tamsin. His arms were shaking with strain.
A question sparked in Tamsin’s mind.
Why had the demon waited until the spotlight was off before it showed itself?
Because it was shadow. The King in Shadow wasn’t a lofty poetic description. It was a literal description. He lived in shadow.
And how did you destroy shadow?
“Hold on, Gray,” Tamsin said. “And be ready to move.”
She sat down on the floor next to him and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and fo
und the flame inside of her. It was hungry and ready. The blue flames wanted to burn.
Tamsin exhaled and let the flames rise from her body like a phoenix. She reached out for every one of those thousands of candles overhead and set them alight. The effort was too much, it was like those times she’d opened the door and let magic out. She wanted to pass out, to slip away into darkness. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
In an instant, there were no more shadows in the room. Instead there were ten thousand blazing candle lights reflecting off ten thousand mirrored walls, shining on ten thousand golden surfaces, refracting through countless gems and crystals.
The King in Shadow had no shadow now. So what was he?
Gray’s shield broke and the zombies on top the shield fell upon them, though they had stopped trying to kill Tamsin.
Up on the floating balcony, something was happening. Hannah was screaming bloody murder while next to her the King in Shadow writhed and screamed. His body burned in the light, emitting a bilious smoke. Inside his body of black ooze, Cash tried to break free.
“Save him,” Hannah cried. “Save the King!”
Beside her, Grace was gesturing frantically as she worked some magic. A sphere of purple lighting materialized between her hands. It was as big as an apple and then as big as a basketball. And then it grew larger and larger still.
Cash ripped himself free from the King in Shadow’s body. His skin was bloody from ten thousand cuts. In his hand he gripped a blue crystal—Tamsin’s soul. He held it over his head and smiled down at Tamsin.
“It’s over,” Tamsin screamed up at Hannah. “Give me back my soul.”
Grace’s purple magic sphere ignited and twisted in the air until it was no longer a sphere of energy, but rather a portal to some rainy and gloomy place. “I can’t hold this long,” she whined.
Hannah flicked her wand, lifting the King in Shadow from the ground. She was going to toss him into the portal. She was going to save that monster so it could come back again and again.
Tamsin reached out with her flames. But this time it was different. She wasn’t casting any spell or ritual. It was pure will and raw chaos and it felt so right. She was light and destruction. Her flames raced through the air and caught the King in Shadow in a giant fist of fire.
Light Up The Night_a Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy Romance Page 19
