Giddy, I squeaked and stooped to gather my train while Grim propped his staff against the wall.
After securing the train to my wristlet, I looped one arm again through Grim’s and let him lead me to the floor.
He grasped my hand, and I parked my free one on his shoulder as the warm palm of his other hand came to rest on my upper back.
As we started to dance, his gaze strayed to something over my shoulder—and narrowed.
“What is it?” I asked, checking—and glimpsing a strange man in a hooded black cloak, matching Renaissance regalia, and a Venetian Carnival-style red devil’s half mask complete with horns just before he vanished behind a group of Nintendo characters. “Grim?”
“Sorry,” he said, trading his attention between me and the figure as we turned again. “I thought… I saw someone.”
“Someone?” I asked, my gaze bouncing back and forth, even though the devil man seemed to have disappeared.
“It’s nothing,” Grim said, shaking his head, his attention returning to me. “Just my mind playing tricks, I’m sure.”
“Halloween does that,” I said. “Plays tricks.”
“So do I,” he leaned down to whisper in my ear.
I giggled and pressed myself closer to him while we swayed to David Bowie’s voice.
“Have you seen this movie?” I asked.
“Honestly, there are a few parts I’d like tounsee. If you know, you know.”
Another peal of laughter broke forth from me as he turned me yet again, swaying me expertly as pale opalescent confetti rained over us, catching in his hair and on his robes.
“At least it’s not glitter,” he grunted as the lights chased one another, David’s voice echoing around us, crooning about the stars, love, and a world undone.
“Flora told me about the glitter,” I said, mildly chagrined but… notreally. “Did you ever get it out of your robes?”
“Cedric’s probably still sporting that shit right now,” he said, and this time, we both laughed, a rare bright smile lighting his face, prompting me to touch his cheek, savor the image, the moment.
“I should also let you know,” he said, “that a certain… garment of yourswasstill in one of the pockets.”
My smile dropped, my face flaming bright red. “No.”
“Can’t you see his face when he checked for loose change?”
I blanched. “God, I feel like I’m about to see him since I’mthisclose to dying of embarrassment!”
“You want me to ask for them back?”
“No!”
“Good,” he said. “You don’t need them anyway.”
I shook my head, my smile fighting its way back onto my face. “Grim, I love you.”
“That’s good, considering,” he said.
“Considering?” I tilted my head at him, but instead of answering, as the song faded into its final refrain, the garbled clock from the movie tolling thirteen in the background of the music, Grim took my hand and led me off and then away from the dance floor, the swirling lights, mist, and people.
From there, we entered the hall that ran parallel to the restored balcony.
“What are you doing?” I asked when Grim opened the sliding glass door, because this time therewasa sign. Instead of warning partygoers away from the area, the fancy folding sign designated the balcony as “Reserved.”
Grim placed a finger to his lips. Then, at my first shudder from the October cold, he swept his cloak from his shoulders before settling it around mine.
