Shaw’s hand gripped her elbow, and she pulled away. His touch burned her insides, quicker now that the scorching paths had already been forged with that absurd kiss. It made her feel alive.
She didn’twantit.
“Should I apologize? Trust me, Lux, it’s not as if I’d planned it.”
Shaw’s irritation sent her into the glittering room two steps ahead of him.
She adjusted her mask as she surveyed the mass of bodies. The music was lively, the crowd pairing off in an intricate dance that sent several stumbling in their drunken haze. Lux smirked as the haughty peacock’s skirts were sloshed with drink, her screech a respectable imitation.
How she yearned to leave. She couldn’t do any further investigating this night, not with the Shield having noticed her, but it would also seem much too suspicious to disappear immediately following what occurred in the office. She reached to her lips. They must be swollen; the only explanation she could think of as to why her mind could focus on no other part of her. She made to wipe away the sensation.
A vulgar creature weaved forward, stilling her hand. “May I have this dance, my delectable raven?” Colden bowed, nearly losing his lofty headdress. His too-dilated pupils studied her figure as he straightened, and she shook her head, prepared to administer a scathing rebuke.
“She’s spoken for.”
The wyvern puffed his chest, ready to fight this new adversary until his gaze landed on his leather-clad wife weaving her way toward him. He ground his teeth, focusing on Lux once again.
“I always knew you would amount to nothing. This only further proves my thinking.” He gestured to Shaw, a sneer on his lips, transforming his face into less of a fearsome beast and more an oily serpent.
Lux scoffed. Because she knew Colden, and a man like him? He deserved none of her attention.
But Shaw did not know him. When his hand encircled the other man’s throat, she could only offer a half-hearted protest.Shaw leaned in close, his mask scraping grooves of red along Colden’s smooth cheek. “Say it again.”
The man flailed, but Death’s grip was unyielding. He stood nearly a head taller than Morana’s husband, his shoulders twice as broad. “I said she would amount—” A choked sound cut off the remainder. Colden’s eyes bulged, his gloved fingers clawing for purchase.
“Say. It. Again.”
He could not. They all knew it. And it was only the level of drunken obliviousness swirling around them that prevented Shaw from being beaten by a force of guards. Yet, Colden’s face was purpling, and Morana weaved closer. That was a mess she wished to avoid.
“If you murder him, you’ll ruin my night and yours. Mine because I’ll have to boil my eyes after seeing him unclothed again. Yours because you’ll be in prison.”
Shaw tossed him off.
Colden stumbled backward where he hacked and wheezed. “Youdare—”
“Listen to me, you winged weasel.” Lux stepped close until his blown pupils found hers. “Youdare mention anything, and I will purposefully botch your inevitable revival. Decide your course.” When he continued to only stare and seethe, she hissed, “Now.”
Morana was upon them, and the decision was made. The wyvern flew away entirely. The mayor’s daughter stared at his vacated place, her eyes giving away little even as her shoulders drooped. When her gaze flicked to Lux, however, they rose, stiff and proud, daring her to say something. Anything.
Lux remained silent.
“We should dance.”
She lifted her attention from Morana’s retreating form to huff at Shaw, but he didn’t look at her. Rather, he frowned at theShield who had discovered them in the mayor’s office, searching the crowd until he spied them.
Wonderful.This night can officially be stamped a disaster.
Without another thought, Lux rolled her body into his, sending them stumbling sideways. An uproarious laugh left her lips, partly in her pretend drunken stupor, but partly at the look of utter shock on Shaw’s face. He righted them both, his hands gripping her upper arms before grinning himself.
He really was quite good at acting, and her eyes were drawn to the creases at the corners of his, barely visible beneath his skeletal mask. She held out her hand. He took it within his warm one, and with a sweeping bow, led her onto the floor. Just in time for the beginning of a new dance.
Lux took her position across from him, curtsying when the other partners did. She smiled at Shaw’s exaggerated bow again, the line opposite her own bending forward as one. She wasn’t sure she knew the dance, but she doubted it really mattered. The more real stumbling she did, the less she would have to feign her missteps.
When Shaw stepped forward in perfect sync with those who flanked him, she nearly missed the turn, into his arms. Her open mouth snapped closed as he brought her hands to his shoulders before dropping his own to her waist—and lifting.
For once their eyes were at level, and Lux felt…exposed. He could see too much of what made her, and she hated it. At her release, she staggered back into line, weaving around a fairy with wings that threatened to send her crashing to the floor if she hadn’t given them an exceptionally wide berth. Shaw returned before her.
“Careful, Necromancer. Your admiration is showing.”
