Tears prick at my eyes, and I lift my head, desperate to not let my makeup run. The painting in front of me catches my attention. It’s famous and haunting: the image of a woman, splayed out in bed with an impish looking creature resting on her chest. The imp looks inquisitive, staring right at me.What are you going to do, Minnie?it seems to ask.
I try to focus on the woman, her mouth agape and her eyes shut. But she doesn’t appear dead; her cheeks are too rosy. She doesn’t appear to be in pain, either, yet I wouldn’t want to be in her position, even though it feels like I already am.
Footsteps echo behind me. I groan, blinking and catching my tears on my thumbs before they can ruin my makeup. “I’m really not in a place to talk right now,” I say, expecting it to be Kas that’s followed me. A figure stands beside me, and through the tears, I can see short, blond hair.
“I own a Fuseli,” the man says. “Can’t say it’s very good. Nothing but muddy colors and strange poses.”
I let the tears fall down my cheeks so I can see clearly. I was right about one thing tonight; Idorecognize Arthur le Fay on sight. Lance and Junior take after him–similar heights, same hair color. The three of them could be mistaken for brothers, which is the first thing wrong with him. His eyes are green, as expected, but they’re overtaken by large black pupils that suck the light out of his eyes. He makes my stomach churn, and when he turns his head, I look away.
“Where are my manners?” he says. “My name is–”
“I know who you are.” I focus on the painting, paying particular attention to the pale eyes of a black horse in the background. “What are you doing here? You never come to events like this.”
“I came to see you.” He practically sings, laying on the charm thick. “Let’s talk, Minerva.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
ROSIER
The crowd partsfor me as I walk, a sorely needed reminder that while I appear human, I am far from it. I am meant to command and control–two things I've forgotten thanks to Minnie.Thanks to!Damn that woman. It’s worse than I thought. I’ve learned–bile bubbles in my throat at the thought–manners.
I make it to the other side of the room, Richard’s companion spotting me first. Seira narrows her eyes but says nothing. Richard takes notice of her glare and follows her gaze. We make eye contact, and his thin lips curl into a subtle smile.
Before I can say anything, his bold voice echoes. “You must be that devil I’ve heard whispers about.”
I look around, careful not to actually move my head, concerned about mortals overhearing our conversation.
“The devil himself,” I confirm, a little leary now that it’s clear he knows more about me than I do about him. “I didn’t realize my reputation precedes me.”
“Seira informed me a devil had crossed onto the Mortal Plane. I didn’t believe her at first. The last time I heard of someone successfully summoning a devil was over a century ago in Europe.”
A century of solitude, then Minnie decided, “I think I’ll summon a devil to solve my problems,”and now I’m stuck wearing stupid fucking clothes talking to this slimy vampire. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder and check on her.
“I don’t currently have plans to leave,” I inform Richard, slipping my hands into my pockets.
I’ve read enough books to know this is a casual sort of gesture. I’m not sure why, but it appears to work. Richard's subtle smile becomes sharp, exposing his knife-like teeth at the corners of his lips.
“A permanent resident from Hell? In our city? Hate to be a downer, but I might have to inform the council about this.”
I raise a brow. “Council?”
“Apologies, I’m a member of the Vampiric Council. Have been for a few decades now. Seems my reputation does not precede me.” Despite his apology, he’s obviously rather amused by all this. My ignorance does give him an excuse to brag.
“Is my presence an issue?” I ask.
“Why exactlyareyou present?” Seira steps a little closer to Richard who wraps an arm around her waist. “You never mentioned what you’re doing here.”
Her body is so lithe, lacking hips or breasts, skin tight across her chest like a corpse. She seems impossibly pale, almost the same shade as Richard. Her light green eyes are so empty, she appears more like a demon than anything infernal.
“What would you expect a devil to do in my situation?” Her eyes narrow some more, but I return my attention to my target. “We should speak in private.”
Richard’s hand slides off Seira’s skeletal body. He steps closer to me, his back now to his companion. “Meet me on the second floor.” With that he walks away–or starts to but stops when he realizes Seira isn’t following. She’s too busy glaring at me with a locked jaw. “Sara!” Richard calls.
Both Seira and I blink, recognizing that Richard has said the wrong name. Close but not quite. I know this, and she knows it better than I do, but Richard is oblivious. Seira’s body becomes even more corpse-like, stiffening as she turns to join Richard. The two of them disappear behind some pillars.
Now alone, I give in and turn to check on Minnie. She’s dancing with fucking Alex of all people. I can recognize that gangly frame from any angle. I focus on the both of them, trying to hear their conversation, but there’s too many other people talking. Minnie looks about as happy as she did looking up at me in that fucking chapel. I should go over and push aside her companion, soak up her ire while we dance in circles.
Instead, I ask a waiter how to get to the second floor. He informs me the second floor is closed off to party goers. “Really?” is all I have to say before he explains there are several staircases around the hall that will bring me upstairs, stuttering as he does so.
