Morana’s brow furrowed in confusion at her words, and Colden’s lips quirked. Lux abandoned them before she was made to suffer more. Striding back through the crowd, her sole focus rested on Shaw. Shaw and his deep laugh that, strangely, sounded genuine to her ears. When his eyes finally lifted from that of the girl’s before him, his grin lessened, and then faded away entirely.
“Excuse us,” Lux purred, red lips stretching over her teeth.
The girls stumbled back in unison, eyeing her with a mixture of annoyance and unease. Not willing to confront her, however, they allowed a forlorn glance at the man behind her before slowly disappearing into the crowd of bodies. Lux bit into her pastry. She hated how delicious it was and wiped awaythe crumbs from her lips before glancing upward—to discover Shaw’s gaze intent on her progress.
At her attention, he cleared his throat. “I say we start with the mayor’s study.”
She paused, the pastry partway to her mouth. “You know of his study?”
“He must have one. He’s the mayor.”
“It’s far from here.”
“Good thing you wore your boots then.”
She glared.
“Finish that. I can’t stand here rocking on my heels any longer.”
“Spare me. You were perfectly content to flirt your way into a Light match a moment ago.” Lux popped in the final mouthful, followed by a swallow of cider.
Shaw took the empty mug from her hand before she could protest, his gaze flicking down briefly before returning to hers. “Death is never content, Necromancer. Now, let’s get this evening over with.”
Chapter sixteen
With guests coming toand from the lavatory with increasing frequency, it was almost too simple to dart off to an unoccupied hall. The lamplight diminished the further they ventured, and soon only one lone flicker could be seen from its end.
Lux walked alongside Shaw, their footsteps silent on the plush runner extending the length. Yet another bust of the mayor passed them by with eerie, empty eyes, and she fought the urge to knock it from its mighty perch. She settled for curling her lip at the likeness instead.
A sudden shadow descended from the hall’s end, and Lux flattened against the wall the same moment as Shaw. The Shield continued in another direction, and she exhaled in relief. Peeling herself from the polished stone at her back, she peered around a statue.
Shaw’s breath wafted warm over her ear. “Is it much farther?”
She refused to allow her face to turn into it. What in theworld? It must be that thrice-damned cider’s doing. “Yes.” The end of this hall would branch into three. They would need to take the center route, following it to a lacquered door with a stamped handle.
Instead of confiding any of that information in him, she stepped around the statue, hurrying along the corridor. She moved fast, but her legs were far from long. Shaw’s strides sent her into a jog only to keep up.
Far sooner than she was ready for it, the lone lamp hung above them, highlighting their forked path. Shaw glanced down, expectant.
“We can’t be caught.” She forced her imagination to cease bombarding her with images of their capture as she angled her face toward his.
The small flame had turned Shaw’s eyes a molten gold beneath his mask. Lux’s blood warmed, and she immediately pulled her gaze away before it could travel much further.
“I hadn’t realized. Any further advice?”
She fixed him with a glare only to feel it fade. He played with her, the edge of his lips hitched up in a half-smile. That traitorous flush returned, crashing through her veins.
“Only one: I think it best if you didn’t speak any longer.”
The hall was dark,though nowhere near as dark as the door now looming tall before them. Lux’s hand hovered over the gold handle, a forked tongue protruding from a gaping mouth and stamped with the letterT. She’d been here once before. She never thought she’d return.
Shaw grew impatient. She could feel him, stiff at her back. His arm brushed hers when he reached around her, but she didn’t move, allowing him to turn the knob and push the door inward.
A cascade of yellow light and the stink of old cigar smoke welcomed them in. The circular room possessed no windows; a decision made by the mayor no one could question. Lux glanced over the walls lined with flickering lamps until her gaze found the sprawling desk. She strode toward it, Shaw moving to investigate the glass-encased shelving about the room. It was neat. Too neat. She worried any item slightly moved out of place would alert the mayor of their trespassing. Wrinkling her nose against the lingering scent of the mayor’s cologne, she slid open the first drawer anyway.
Reports. Stacks of them. Her fingers slid over the first page’s edge: a description of the sickness sweeping through the Dark. The mayor had signed it:Bartleby Tamish.A sentence-long note following:
Contamination—will investigate further if it crosses.
