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He took my hand, and together, we sprinted down a narrow path to the ocean. When the trail stopped on a rocky ledge thirty feet above the water, we grinned at each other—and jumped.
Epilogue
Rafe
Ismoothed down my tux, adjusted my bowtie. A black mask dangled from my fingers.
I’d spent the last week in Montreal, working my contacts, trying to find out what, if anything, the Tremblay Coven had to do with Zaq’s disappearance.
A whole week I’d been close to Zoe Tremblay without being able to touch her.
Tonight, I’d make contact. My mouth curved in a smile that was pure predator.
I checked my pocket one last time. Not for a weapon; that would be asking for trouble. No, what was in my pocket was even better: an invitation to the Tremblays’ annual masquerade ball.
The printer hadn’t wanted to forge the invitation, even for the stupid-high sum I’d offered. Victorine Tremblay ruled her city with an iron fist concealed in a sleek silk glove. But the printer was human, easily compelled. An hour later, I’d left, the invitation in hand.
Now I donned the mask and strode up the marble steps into the heart of the Tremblay Coven, Victorine’s mansion.
The foyer was larger than most houses. An immense crystal chandelier glittered overhead. Scattered about on the creamy Italian marble floor were towering black vases filled with perfect red tulips.
Through the double doors on the far side I could see the ballroom. Vampires and their thralls danced past on the polished wood floor. Like me, the vampires were dressed mainly in black, while the thralls wore variations on the ball’s theme colors of red, white and black.
A Tremblay soldier asked to see my invitation. When I handed it over, he examined it closely, then patted me down for weapons before indicating the double doors. “Entrez, M’sieur.”
“Merci.” I strolled inside.
A server in a red-lace mask and short black skirt sashayed up with a tray of blood-wine. “Something to drink, sir?” she asked in a pretty Quebecois accent.
I took the wine and sipped it, scanning the crowd from behind my mask.
The Crimson Ball was traditionally held by candlelight. Candles were everywhere, hundreds of them. They flickered in the chandeliers above the dancers, and in votives on the black-clothed tables and the lush flower arrangements. The dim light softened the vampires’ cold eyes, gave their skin a warm glow.
The thralls certainly seemed taken in by it. They clung to the vampires, eyes starry through their masks. Rubies and diamonds glittered on the female thralls’ throats and in the male thralls’ earlobes. Those who were blood-bonded wore a gold chain around their wrists.
I scented Zoe before I saw her. A spicy green scent that made my heart speed up.
There.
Unlike most of the guests, she’d made little effort to conceal her identity. Her mask was a strip of black that barely covered her eyes, and her white slip dress showed off her long golden limbs. She seemed unconscious of the bodyguard hovering nearby. No, her smile was all for the lean blond vampire looking down her dress.
The vampire fingered a lock of her straight black hair.
Zoe’s smile turned chilly. She moved back a step, forcing him to release her.
A possessive fury surged through me. No man but me could stand that close to Zoe.
Touch her.
Have her.
The bodyguard’s head swung around. His eyes narrowed on me.
A vampire couldn’t read me like they could a human, but my muscles had tightened, my stance shifting to the balls of my feet and my hand fisting on the wine glass as I prepared to launch myself at the blond asshole.
Rein it in, you idiot. Or you’ll blow your cover in the first five minutes.
I dragged my gaze away, forced my shoulders to loosen. Took another sip of wine.
But Zoe’s form was seared on my eyelids. The woman had a body made for sin. High, perfect breasts. Slim waist. Taut ass. And legs that seemed to go on forever.
I couldn’t resist another look.
My groin tightened. By the Dark Mother, I wanted Zoe Tremblay…almost as much as I hated her.
But for now, I had to blend in. Setting my glass on a table, I held out a hand to the nearest unattached thrall.
“Dance with me.”
* * *
