The Waltz of the Hollow begins.
The six of us come together. We circle left. We circle right. I don’t look at Lainey or Rafe. Neither does Jude. It’s just us—me and him. Even when we come apart, his attention remains fixed on me, and although he’s wearing gloves, I can feel the heat of his fingers when the dance brings us back together. We step close, our bodies nearly touching. He turns me in a circle one way, then turns me again in the other. And I have to let go. The dance demands it. I take Rafe’s hand with gritted teeth.
The strings rise in cadence, a dance from another century resurrected under flickering candlelight. A melody spun like a spell as Jude and I are drawn together like magnets, like destiny, thenpulled apart as we progress down the line and follow the steps. Every departure a heartbreak. Every return sweet relief as his touch lingers and his gaze smolders.
I’m left spinning.
And wanting.
More of him.
All of him.
But then the song ends.
And the crowd claps.
And the spell is broken.
Beside me, Lainey’s face is flushed as Rafe pulls her to him. He tells her she looks stunning. Lainey smiles coquettishly then bats her eyes at Jude. “Tell your mom thank you for the mask, by the way. She’s the one who lent it to me.”
“Isabel isn’t my mother,” Jude replies.
“Oh, really?” Lainey says, all false surprise.
I want to step on her toe. Lainey knows Isabel isn’t Jude’s mother. She’s made this mistake before. Just like it got under his skin then, it clearly gets under his skin now.
“You’re so forgetful, Lainey,” Rafe admonishes, his arm sliding around her waist. “Jude’s real mother died, remember? Giving birth to you, right, Jude?”
Like a drawn bow, Jude’s spine stiffens.
“So technically, you’re what killed her.” He leans close. “Or I guess it was your father’s love. The curse and all. Better be careful with Selah, yeah?” He casts a slow glance toward me, asthough checking my reaction as much as Jude’s. Then he whirls Lainey around, and with a whisper in her ear, sends her off toward a group of our classmates.
She prowls toward them like a lioness on the hunt.
44
A STORM OF EMOTION
Jude keeps his eye on Rafe while I keep tabs on Lainey.
As the night unfolds, I watch as she flits from the ballroom to the salon to the gardens outside—doling out innocent touches, lingering looks, generous laughter. She even dances with Griffin, her ex. Infrontof his new girlfriend, who bursts into tears and runs away. Rafe looks on with a smirk, likethisis his plan. To stir up drama by turning Lainey Sikes into a shameless flirt.
When Twig and I step onto the terrace for some fresh air, he tells me Lainey kept pressing him about the gemstones. He swears he didn’t say anything, but his cheeks are flushed and he looks flustered.
I’m choosing to believe it’s because of the circumstances. We’re no longer operating in theoreticalterritory. The uncanny has permeated our actual life. We’ve stepped over a major threshold—into a realm of angels, curses, and immortal humans. For a guy as fascinated with the supernatural as I am, this is pretty thrilling stuff.
“Remember Marla Stenson?” Twig says.
I dig around in my brain.
Marla Stenson …
“Didn’t we interview her for the podcast? Wait.” I snap my fingers. “She’s the one who saw an angel standing in line at the DMV.”
Twig nods. “I reached out to her today, and she sent me a link to this blog calledHeaven’s Battlefieldwritten by this religious lay scholar named Ezekiel Cotton. A couple months ago he wrote a post about mortal descendants of angels.”
“And?”
