Hyde turned and slipped through the crowd.
“Sorry, I really have to go. Why don’t you go find Bean… uh, Charles. Or your friends. I’m sure they’re around here.” I actually had never met any of Ericka’s society gal pals. I always just assumed they existed. The sudden stiffness in Ericka’s grip made me think otherwise. It took me another moment to realize that she was helplessly pleading me to stay with her.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I repeated with all sincerity, guilt snaking through my insides. “I just have to do this one thing. I’ll come find you later,” I added, knowing that I probably wouldn’t.
With a set jaw, I left Ericka standing there by herself. I saw glimpses of Hyde, of his waistcoat, of his hair, as he made his way through the schmoozing fashion designers and statuesque models, the socialites, the businessmen. Every once in a while he’d check back to make sure I was still following him. Then he’d disappear in a crowd, leaving me to twist around and strain my eyes for a hint of him.
Who the hell did he think he was, the Pied Piper? And yet I was following him, dutifully. The cat and mouse game had somehow made me even more desperate to find him. He was playing around. Maybe he thought it was hot.
It was, a little. I hated myself for admitting that.
My heart nearly leapt into my throat when I felt an arm slip around my waist. Suddenly my back was pressed against someone’s chest. I would have screamed if I hadn’t heard Hyde’s whisper in my ear. “Meet me in the Red Room in fifteen.”
The Red Room? Wasn’t that the room Anton had booked? What was Hyde playing at?
By the time I’d recovered enough to turn around, he was already gone. I bit my lip. I could have gone back to find Ericka, but somehow, despite my guilt at abandoning her, I didn’t quite feel the need. I wandered through the party instead, trying not to bump into anything living while wishing to God I could be at home, hanging out in Ade’s room, watching movies on her laptop while we stuffed our faces with leftovers. A woman in a Victorian corset glared at me when I giggled at her mask, which looked like a lizard-cat hybrid with wide gaping eyes, crowned with a mess of fresh flowers that framed a picture of what looked like a pale seventeenth-century noblewoman. I mean, really.
Twenty to twelve. My phone vibrated in my purse. An incoming text from Shannon: Limo’s here. On our way, babe.
OK. OK, OK. Shannon promised she’d text me again once they all arrived at the party. Until then, I had to relax. Five more minutes. Then I’d go find Hyde, because… why not? The Red Room, right?
After asking someone for directions, I made my way up the stairs to the mezzanine, which overlooked the ballroom. A few people were already there, kissing against the railings, sipping champagne as they stared past the columns to the candlelit chandelier. Red Room, Red Room… My heels clicked against the marble floor. Had to be around here somewhere.
I found Hyde by one of the arched windows, but he wasn’t alone. A woman in a draped ice-lavender gown was stroking his face with a white-gloved finger. Though she was masked, and her figure was a long, slender figure-eight, I could tell she was at least a decade older than him. Her lips puckered as her fingers trailed down his arm. She smiled at him like she owned him. When she cocked her head to the side, I clutched my purse a little harder.
Hyde, though, was apparently not having it. He grabbed her hand and flung it away, impatiently.
“You’re still not going to take me up on my offer?” I almost gasped. It was Beatrice Hoffer-Rey.
“Beatrice, don’t you think your husband might get a little offended at how valiantly you’ve been trying to leap into the pants of the much younger man who fired him?”
“Please, dear. We both know my sex life is as much a concern of his as his is of mine.” Her nasal voice, so affected, made my lips curl.
“I suppose so,” said Hyde, equally disgusted. “But desperation is a real turn off. Makes you look old, Bea. All that Botox for nothing.”
Beatrice only laughed as she turned, looked down the hall – and spotted me. Our eyes locked.
“I won’t say this again.” Hyde stepped towards her, almost menacingly. “Back off. I mean it. I’m not for sale.”
“Are you sure? I’ve heard differently.”
Hyde looked stunned. Without another word, he strode towards me, grabbed my wrist and pulled me until Beatrice’s fox smile faded into the distance.
“Hyde, are you OK?” I asked, once the door to the Red Room was closed behind us. It was a small, private drawing room with birch-panel walls that matched the dark tiled floor. But the room itself was more stunning for the lit candles staged around it. A bottle of champagne waited in an ice bucket on the center table, flanked by two wineglasses. Hyde had obviously set this up. Hadn’t he? In the room Anton’d chosen for us….
Frowning, Hyde sat in the leather armchair, watching the flames of a candle crackle quietly.
“Hyde… are you OK?”
It was a second before he registered my question. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He laughed. “Damn. Ruined the mood, didn’t she?”
More like tore it apart and burned the pieces, but I was more worried about the lines sinking into his face. I sat next to him. “What was she going on about?”
“Her? Who knows? I think for someone who’s used to coercing underwear models into sleeping with her, hearing a guy tell her no is like a slap to her face – not that she’d be able to feel it. I heard she’s numb as hell up there.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I know. It’s a running joke on the Sew or Die forums over at Angry TV Recaps. We’re supposed to take a drink every time she manages an expression.”
There was something about ridiculing that woman that loosened the tension in his chest. He slipped off his mask and placed it on the table, next to the flower-vase. But when I reached for mine, he seized my hand and pulled it away from my face.
“It looks gorgeous on you.” His eyes travelled down the length of my body and up again, before catching himself. “You look stunning, Deanna,” he admitted with a little blush.
My face flushed with heat. “O-oh really?” I let out a strangled laugh and turned to the table, but my eyes flitted to him anyway – to his long fingers rubbing the nape of his neck. “Well, I’m glad I look good because I feel as awkward as if I’d been stuffed in a giant bear suit.”
“Yeah, I figured you’d be pretty uncomfortable.” Hyde adjusted his waistcoat over a particularly broad set of shoulders. “I am too, honestly. That’s why I booked this room for us.”
I watched him, eyes narrowed, as he stood up and popped the bottle of champagne. “I thought–” Don’t mention Anton. “I heard someone else booked this room.”
“Hmm? Oh yeah. Anton.” He casually poured two glasses. “He was probably planning an orgy or something. I figured he can do that at home, so I re-booked it.”
Of course he did, I thought dryly. Did Anton know? Being here wasn’t exactly dangerous per se if Anton couldn’t get his girls in. But if my plan ended up failing and I still had to meet him downstairs to grab the vial…
It wasn’t going to come to that. Everything was going to work out. It had to.
Hyde extended his arm to me, a wine-filled glass in his hands, his arm thick and sturdy in the sleek white sleeve. Funny how once upon a time I thought I was the one who would end up seducing him.
I took the glass, but set it down. “Sorry, I don’t drink.”
“For religious reasons?”
“For legal reasons. I’m underage.” A pause. “You are too.”
Hyde laughed. “And you are adorable.” He sipped.
I had a chance to roll my eyes before they flitted to the clock. Thirteen minutes to midnight. It wouldn’t be long before Shannon and Anton showed up. Discreetly, I rubbed my damp palms against my dress, pretending I was smoothening out the ruffles.
“It’s quality stuff,” Hyde said, and when he did I realized I’d been staring blankly at the wine in my glass. Hyde couldn’t have possib
ly known that I was scrutinizing my own reflection instead. “I had it imported from France.”
“Wow, look at you, importing things from Europe. It’s like the rich boy rite of passage.” I gave him a wry smile to let him know I was teasing, because sometimes even I couldn’t tell anymore. “I guess you’d know all about French wine, having been there for so long, huh?”
Hyde’s lips twitched right as he answered, “Yeah,” very quietly. “You sure there’s nothing else on your mind?”
Seconds ticked in my head. “Positive.”
“You sure? I admit I’m not the best at romancing girls, but I’m pretty sure when you pour champagne and light candles, ‘silent introspection’ isn’t the reaction you’re supposed to get.”
He sidled up closer to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. The spark from his arm shivered up my spine. Maybe because this was the first time in a long while that I could be certain I wasn’t being watched, I let myself melt into him.
“Honestly, I thought it was strange,” he continued. “How suddenly you changed that night on your front steps – when you kissed me.”
Silently, I lowered my head, watching the bubbles cling to the inside of his glass.
“I didn’t want to say anything. I was just happy to…” He paused. “What’s been going on, Deanna? This isn’t you.”
I thought of the weeks of lies wrapped in fear and grimaced at how easily I drew my knees up onto his legs. I had no right to lean on him like this. “You’re the second person to say that today. Except I don’t even know what it means.”
Hyde squeezed my shoulder. “Hmm?”
“If this isn’t me, then who am I?”
I thought of the follicles in my back waiting to sprout. Hyde let out a heavy sigh and tilted his head, deep in thought, or at least managing a good impression of it.
“Well, you’re unstoppable.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Unstoppable. Outspoken. And a little bad ass, to be honest. Not that you’re arrogant, of course. You can be sweet and cheerful, but you don’t take shit from anyone. That’s who you are, Deanna.”
I would have laughed, but I was still stunned into silence.
“Well, that’s who you were.” Hyde gazed down at me, purposefully. “When we were kids. It’s part of the reason why I… I don’t know. Gravitated towards you. I was enthralled by you.”
I ran my hand over my mask, each crystal stud rolling over my fingers. “You still are. Enthralled by her, I mean. That’s why you followed me around and sent Mariachi Bands to my house. You weren’t doing them for me; you were doing them for her.”
“Maybe. At first.” He pulled me back to him, setting his glass down on the side table. “It’s not like people aren’t supposed to change, Deanna. But you’re a lot stronger than you think you are. That girl never really disappeared. I don’t think so, anyway.”
I thought of the feathers. I thought of the years I’d spent cleaning up after Dad, missing Ericka, covering for Ade.
“You’re the one I did this for.” Hyde’s sweet smile made my body flush with heat. “These candles are lit for you.”
I straightened up so I could look at him properly. His face was beautiful, but his words trumped even that. They nestled somewhere inside me, flickering as brightly as the candlelight.
“And what about you, Hyde?”
He furrowed his brows as he looked down at me. “What about me?”
“Who are you? You barely talk about yourself. It’s always about the past with you.”
Silence stretched between us. He kept his eyes on mine as he thought, considering, maybe, whether or not to answer me. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he made his decision, tipping my chin up to him, placating me with a kiss.
“See,” I whispered. “You’re wearing one too, aren’t you?” Lightly, I touched the left side of his face, where the mask should have been. Instead of answering, he kissed me again with a smile, this time deeper. I felt his hot breath, his tongue running along my lips. His thumb stroked a line across my cheek up to my ear. The skin sizzled beneath his touch.
My brain was screaming at me. But I just wanted this moment. Just one moment of quiet bliss.
My phone vibrated. Oh for fuck’s sake. I broke the kiss with a breathy whimper.
“The universe might hate me,” said Hyde as I reached into my purse, which had been lying at my feet, forgotten.
“Sorry, this’ll only take a second.” I curled a lock of hair behind my ear and grabbed my phone. It buzzed again in my hand.
Two texts had come in. One was from Anton. Quickly, I leapt away from Hyde. “Oh, uh, it’s private. From Ade,” was my half-assed excuse.
I’m here. Meet me at the bar. I’m at the far right. Don’t be late.
The next one was from Shannon. Here. Everything’s set up. Bout to start. Where’s ur bf?
Oh crap.
“Hyde, do you want to dance with me?” I blurted. It was the best I could come up with.
Hyde raised an eyebrow. “Now?” He looked like he’d rather rip my clothes off, and honestly, a part of me wanted to let him. But a plan was a plan and this was all to save his ass. “I’m not… really big on dancing, Dee.”
“I am!”
“We can dance here.” He was right. Even from up here, I could still hear the music.
“Yes, but there’s something romantic about dancing in a ballroom. Please? Please, please?” I batted my eyelashes for good measure. He returned the gesture with an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. I suppose that did look supremely ridiculous.
“Fine, fine. Just don’t complain when I trip and land on top of you.”
Something shyly seductive curled my lips. “That wouldn’t be quite so bad, now would it?”
Hyde squeezed my hand in his, staring at me as if the sun were burning in him. I hoped to God this would work.
As we approached the bar, I spotted Friend Number One at the edge of the crowd, her pale red dress clinging to her thin frame, Moretta’s golden mask glinting under the dim lights. I could see a sleek black rectangle peeking out of her bag: the phone she was using to record Shannon’s ambush. It’d already begun. I could see the incredulousness on Anton’s face from here as Shannon cornered him, as planned, about Bella’s promotion of indentured labor. But the pièce de résistance would come when Shannon’s second friend arrived.
Wait, where the hell was she? I peered around, but only two Moretta masks crossed my line of vision. She was supposed to be here, right? Waiting? This had to be timed perfectly. Everyone had to be in place at exactly the right moment, Hyde included. He was a target too, after all. The whole point was to target them both. It was the only way that Anton would call off his plan tonight. And of course, I’d be there, standing around innocently, ready to go through with Anton’s evil plan, if only those awful protesters hadn’t shown up and ruined everything.
Hyde leaned into me. “Hey, isn’t that Anton?”
My throat was drying up by the second. A tall girl in a mask strode towards Anton and Shannon, but it wasn’t Protester Number Three.
“There you are,” the girl said. “We need to talk.”
She slipped between Shannon and Anton, her hands on her hips, fuming. Ex-girlfriend? Did Anton even do girlfriends?
“Um, excuse me,” said Shannon, tapping her on the shoulder.
She shrugged her off. “Give me a second.”
“This is actually important. Can you move?”
Anyone with eyes could tell; there was blood in the water. The girl looked as if she were ready to start tearing off limbs.
“You said I was in the lineup,” the girl said, glaring at Anton.
Anton frowned. “What?”
“The runway show at the end of the month.” She flung off her mask, crumpling it in her hand. “You said you got me in.”
“…I think I said that to sleep with you?”
“And?”
“Excuse me.” Shannon grabbed the model’
s shoulder and swiveled her around. “I believe I said move.”
She pushed the girl aside rather violently – which, perhaps, was a mistake. Furious, Anton’s model retaliated by grabbing a glass of wine off a server’s tray and splashing it in Shannon’s face. People were starting to pay attention.
Hyde cocked his head to the side. “Should we do something?”
I bit my lip. “Uh…” And then nothing. The nerve that connected my brain to my mouth must have snapped.
Shannon wiped the liquid off her face. “What the fuck, you crazy dumbass,” she yelled and pushed her into Anton. The two tumbled to the floor with a horrible crash. That, apparently, was Hyde’s cue.
“Hey. Hey!” Hyde strode into the warzone, grabbing the model’s scrawny forearm and lifting her to her feet. “What the hell is going on here?”
And that was Protester Number Three’s cue. She came out of nowhere; her hand rising out of her purse with a balloon that I knew was most certainly not filled with water.
“Swan labor is slave labor!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs. People gasped. “Bella Magazine should be held accountable for its crimes against humanity! Freedom not fashion!”
With an arm built like a pitcher’s, she threw two huge balloons. One hit Hyde in the face. The last one got the model’s neck, but only because by some twist of fate she was accidentally shielding Anton. Dirty gray pigeon feathers swimming in a stream of syrup dripped down their skin, down the model’s chest, into Hyde’s mouth – the cheaper and possibly more humane version of tar and feathering.
The model shrieked. Hyde grunted angrily, wiping the slop off his face. Anton gaped at the two of them, utterly dumbfounded, as Shannon and her friends hightailed it out of there. Anton knew as well as I did. His plan was off.
I gasped, wide-eyed, because it was what everyone else was doing. “Hyde? Hyde!” I ran up to him, positively frantic. “Oh my God, Hyde! Are you OK?”
What now, Anton?
17
FORFEIT
“Let me help, Hyde.” Lots of people had gathered around, either to take pictures, offer their sympathies or both. A select few actually stooped down to help. Service had been called to clean up the mess that had managed to drip onto the floor. Meanwhile, I used the napkin I’d grabbed off the bar counter to wipe Hyde’s cheek. He flicked his head away.
Feather Bound Page 15
