Page 110 of Bloodgrove

No doubt they were all delighted they had accepted the scandalous invitation. The evening would be the talk of the town for months, and they had been present to watch the foreigner reveal himself as a mistake after all.

Will had no choice but to hate the guests, because otherwise he would have to hate Eric, and he could not. Betrayal drove itself through his shoulder blades, piercing deep into his chest and into his heart. It hurt more than he had ever expected. And at the same time, he laughed at himself.

Had Eric not warned him? Had he not smiled at Will’s naïveté and apologized before he even committed the betrayal? Though Eric was leading him to the scaffold and placing the axe in the executioner’s hands, he did not seem to enjoy the moment. His gaze remained fixed on Will. He took no satisfaction from Elodie’s outrage.

“The Golden Queen sent him to destroy our city,” Wilkinson added, stepping into the center of the ballroom. “Because of him, no new shipments arrive. Because of him, the granaries stand empty. We were warned about moon children like him, but they are far worse than we imagined. He even attempted to seduce my wife!”

“That—” Elodie began to protest, but he jerked her sharply against his side.

“He is seductive,” the Red Hand agreed. Three servants helped him sit upright. His breathing came heavily, and it took him a moment before he continued. “He has a certain effect upon people. And evidently upon our little Elodie as well.”

Murmurs of agreement spread through the room, and Will stared in disbelief, his lips parted.

“We should feed him to the vampires,” Wilkinson suggested, glancing toward the Red Hand’s beloved pets.

“I am not a moon child.” Will felt ridiculous even saying it.

“That is exactly what a moon child would say!” one of the guests shouted.

But the Red Hand smiled. “He knows what punishment I promised him if he touched what belongs to the Red Hand.”

Eric stepped forward. “I have a train ticket that can take him back to the Capitol tonight. Let him become the Golden Queen’s problem.”

“Always so reasonable,” the Red Hand sighed.

“A sacrifice in our honor would be better,” Wilkinson cut in. “Let us all share his blood!” Perhaps the duke possessed more than a suspicion that Elodie had betrayed him.

At that small consolation, Will raised his chin higher.

“Darling,” Elodie crooned and nestled against her husband. She tipped her head back, and the spikes of her diadem glittered. She made her voice soft and her shoulders narrow. “He created this wondrous ballroom for us. One day, our children will play here. My father spilled enough blood in this room. Spare him.”

Whispered memories of her father fluttered through the ballroom. For a city that loved blood so deeply, the old Ormonde had gone too far even for their tastes.

“We should not strain the bride’s nerves unnecessarily,” Eric said. “We all know how emotional she can be.”

Laughter moved through the crowd.

For the first time that evening, Eric and Elodie’s gazes met, and the tension of a midsummer storm crackled between them. Without a word, they fought with the twitch of an eyebrow, the lowering of one corner of a mouth. In a language they had perfected in childhood.

“Take him away!” Eric called at last, before the Red Hand could speak.

“I demand blood!” Wilkinson answered.

“As ambassador, I am responsible for maintaining relations with the Capitol. We cannot sacrifice a guest. My decision is final.”

The Red Hand nodded.

Hands slid beneath Will’s arms once more and tore him to his feet. They dragged him from the ballroom, refusing to allow him to walk on his own, determined to complete the humiliation.

But as they passed Eric, he stopped them and bent toward Will. For the briefest moment, one gloved finger brushed over the pale scar on Will’s cheek.

“I expect no gratitude,” he whispered and straightened again. Then he turned towards the guards. “Chain him inside the train, if he gives you trouble. I want him out of this city before sunrise.”

Chapter 55

The guards did not allow Will to collect his luggage or put on a coat. Six more joined them outside the gate, and they led him into the freezing night, where frost covered the fence like moss. The guests watched from the balcony, the lights of the wedding shining through the tall glass doors and spilling into the alley.

One corner farther on, the voices and music faded. The blood moon hung large and low above the sea, its red light making the ice resemble frozen blood. Bloodgrove looked like the Red Hand’s palace, wrapped in a crimson spell—or was it a curse? Will’s thoughts lagged so far behind what was happening that he felt trapped inside one of his dreams.