“Follow me,” he rumbled and began walking.
I fell into step next to Lucas as we came into the courtyard just outside the garden. I studied the servant with his lithe body and glowing golden eyes. Was he of my species, or another? Many of the Council members had servants that were acquired for their ability. The way I had read it, slave felt like a more accurate term.
“You’re quite charming when you want to be,” Lucas said.
“Charm is easier to fake than sincerity,” I countered.
“Always the realist.” He seemed satisfied by my answer in some way.
“Of course. What else would I be?”
A half-smile formed on his lips as he contemplated his answer. “Haven’t you ever had dreams or imagined you could do the impossible?”
“I did once, a very long time ago. Then life happened, and I had no choice but to see the reality of things. Besides, there’s no point in imagining things when I can already do the impossible,” I said with my own sad half-smile.
Marcus had led us around the outskirts of the garden and onto a pathway. The legendary Fortescue mansion loomed in front of us, and, oh, what a mansion it was. Spires so tall I had trouble seeing their tops looked dark and foreboding in their onyx encasement. It was the dark castle, plucked straight from a Grimm fairytale.
“The Fortescues have graciously put aside three rooms for your stay,” Marcus announced as we walked through the double doors. He had such a thick, smooth foreign accent. Lovely. His voice was too lovely. I kept my distance.
Inside, I found a place of luxury with famous paintings, Persian rugs, and antiques. Despite all the riches, this place felt cold. How many of these beautiful priceless things were stolen from those they’d conquered?
“This is your room, Ms. Foster,” Marcus said, holding open a door to reveal a bedroom fit for a king.
“Thank you.” I dismissed them with a nod.
As I looked around the room, I thought about Aldric’s words. Wandering the buildings is not advised. I’m sure you all understand what I mean . . . An almost eerie feeling came over me as I thought about what kind of secrets this place must be harboring. I was the master deceiver; the murderer who couldn’t remember. As far as I was concerned, it was a toss-up on who would come crashing down first.
Chapter 46
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a silk robe around myself. I grabbed a brush and ran it through my hair as I entered the room.
On my bed was a dress bag with shoes and jewelry, along with a note that read:
You have an hour to get ready for a dinner party. Lucas will pick you up at 7.
P.S. You’re being watched.
I groaned internally, but gathered everything and dropped it on the bathroom counter. I began transforming myself into the respectable socialite I needed to be. I started by blow-drying my hair, then bumped up the back half and used a silver headband to keep it in place. I kept the makeup light—I’d never liked it anyway—and put on the matching black diamond jewelry. The undergarments were the perfect size, and I didn’t want to think about how any of them knew. Turning from the mirror, I eyed the Louboutin pumps. That heel was steep, but I’d worn worse. I slipped my feet into them, and found they were surprisingly easy to walk in, and the height difference was staggering. I had to be near six feet now.
There was a knock at the bedroom door.
“Come in,” I called.
The door opened and closed. “Selena, you ready?” Lucas asked. He was in the bedroom, but I heard him like he was right beside me.
“One minute,” I murmured and turned to the dress.
It was strapless, short, and black. I slipped it off the hanger and shimmied into it. When it was all the way up and positioned perfectly, it was still too loose. I felt for the back zipper to see if I’d forgotten to zip it, but all I found were lacings. I turned around and looked at my back in the mirror. The entire waist had to be laced-up.
“Lucas, can you do me a—”
He opened the bathroom door. I turned to see him standing there in a black tux with the corners of his mouth turned up in an amused smile.
“Turn around,” he said, walking toward me.
I placed a hand on the counter to steady myself and used the other to keep my dress in place while he pulled and tightened my dress.
After a few moments of silence, I decided to speak. “Thank you,” I whispered, thinking back on this last year. So much had changed.
“For what?” he asked.
“Being there for me . . . putting up with me. I know I’m usually not the best company,” I said. I saw his half-smile over my head in the mirror as he pulled the back tighter.
“You should give yourself more credit.”
“No, I know who I am.”
He sighed as he gave a final tug on my laces and tied them in a bow. I pulled my shoulders back, standing straight with my head held high. The dress did fit me perfectly.
“How do I look?” I asked, turning to face him.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, looking me up and down. He sounded like he was talking more to himself than me. He held the door open, motioning for me to go through.
“What a gentleman,” I teased, walking into my room. I went over to the nightstand and picked my phone up. I only had two messages—one from Alexandra and the other from Tori wishing me luck. I clicked my phone on silent and put it in my bra as we were walking out.
He took my arm as he escorted me. “Such a lady,” he countered, amused smile still in place.
I smiled a little uneasily as a vision from my past came to me. I was only four or five and dancing in a hallway that looked oddly familiar. I was dressed in a gown, laughing and playing with my sisters. My parents were following behind, and when I saw them, I stopped. I heard the words “such a lady” come from my father’s lips, and the vision faded.
“But aren’t I?” I whispered. He gave me a curious look, and I laughed once. “I forget, there’s still so much you don’t know about me,” I said bitterly, wishing things could be different. No need to go into that tonight.
“All the more fun when I unravel you,” he murmured, and we laughed as he opened a door.
“Such a gentleman,” I repeated, walking into the dining room.
There was only one table, and while it was sprawling, we very clearly had a private audience with the ruling family for the night. An archaic chandelier similar to my aunt’s hung low, probably to showcase its fine details. I didn’t recoil as I’d done so many months ago. I kept my gaze roaming.
I only got two feet before I stopped in my tracks. The easy smile I wore faded, and my eyes narrowed slightly. She was sitting at the table with a knowing smile, but rose and came to me as we got closer.
She had creamy skin, high cheekbones, and almost every feature, angle, and color on her was mine. Except for her curly hair and stormy blue eyes, I was practically looking in a mirror.
“So it is true,” she murmured, taking as much interest in me as I was in her. “I am Anastasia Fortescue, Member of the Council,” she announced, offering her hand.
“Selena Foster, Daizlei boxer,” I challenged, taking it.
“And you are?” She turned to my escort.
“Lucas Hunter,” he said, his voice stiff as they shook hands. His posture was closed, and he eyed her aggressively. She was not welcome, which pleased me. I frowned.
Not good, Selena. Not good.
“Why don’t we all take our seats.” She phrased it as a suggestion, but I was well aware it was an order.
I started to follow Lucas when she touched my arm and motioned for me to sit next to her. I had to restrain myself from physically removing her hand. After following her around the table, I took the seat on her right. We weren’t the only ones here. Coach Avery, Aaron, Professor Vonlowsky, and several others I didn’t recognize filled the seats closest to us. The words from Coach Avery’s note replayed in my mind:
You’re being watched.
I
took a deep breath. My gaze caught Lucas’s, and he gave me a questioning look, asking if I was okay. I nodded once.
“Yes, quite interesting, isn’t it?” Anastasia mused beside me.
“Hmm?” I asked politely.
“How much you and I look alike.” She was goading me. Watching. Waiting.
“And why do you think that is?” I returned the subtle prod.
“Oh, I have no idea. Must be a trick of nature.” She watched me intently, looking for a reaction. Something about her statement bothered me, and I realized she was lying.
“So, I hear you’re the only girl boxer in the tournament.”
“That’s right,” I agreed, pushing my salad around the plate.
“Why are you good at it?” she asked.
Pushy, much?
“I started when I was young and took a liking to it,” I said casually. I had to play this cool. Get the attention off me and my past.
“Oh, come now. There must be a reason you’re the only girl in the championships. What makes you so good?” The way she licked her lips made me uneasy.
I needed to respond. I thought for a second about the many reasons I was good, but it really came down to one thing.
“I’m merciless,” I declared with an edge to my voice.
She smiled, obviously hearing the warning in my words. My doppelgänger was treading too closely. Like the lioness I was, I showed my claws.
“That’s good. So many Supernaturals have gone soft, and that’s why we’re dying.” Her voice was sad, but her eyes were hard; cruel. She was talking about the building tension between Supernaturals and Vampires in the Court, but our supposed softness wasn’t the reason for the tension at all. Her family had a very interesting history with the Court from what I’d read, and some of its methods weren’t exactly . . . humane. I supposed you didn’t stay in power by being humane.
Merciless. The word rang through the air as clearly as if she’d spoken it.
Telepathy. I slammed the door shut on my mind, and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Judging by Lucas’s blatant stare, he must’ve heard it as well.
“That’s one theory,” I said in response to her original comment, working hard to keep my voice neutral.
She studied me for a second. “So, tell me about your family, since you seem to know so much about mine.”
I ignored her comment, and tried not to let the tension show. Across the table, Lucas’s eyes widened, and the rest of the table had gone quiet. “There’s not much to tell. I have two sisters,” I said.
She saw what I didn’t say, and things took a turn for the worse. “And your parents?”
“Gone.” My tone made it clear this topic wasn’t preferred discussion. There was no hesitation, emotion, or room for weakness in my voice.
“How’d they die?” she continued, taking a bite of salad. She spoke to me so casually, you would’ve thought we were old friends.
“Car crash.” I hated playing along, but I had no choice.
“Really? That’s strange, unless they were . . . weak.”
My jaw locked. “My parents were not weak.”
“Selena,” Lucas warned from across the table. I could feel him monitoring my mind, and I shut him out immediately. He flinched, and even she did a double take. Every telepath at the table probably felt my mind slam shut this time. I was struggling to keep the shield with her prying. This was not good. I was not good.
“You’re protective of your family, I like that. So if your parents weren’t weak, what could they do?” She’d stopped the nonchalant act, setting her fork down and turning to face me head on.
“My mother was a necromancer, and my father . . . my father was a telepath.” I immediately averted my eyes from the table. Lucas and I had talked about my parents before, but never this deeply. I was keeping secrets—secrets that affected him.
“Interesting . . . ” she murmured, lost in thought.
“Ms. Fortescue, may I have this dance?” Aaron interjected, cutting into our conversation.
“You may.” She smiled and rose from the table.
They strode out to the dance floor and danced leisurely to the music playing.
Professor Vonlowsky followed, leading a woman I didn’t know, and I found myself wondering why he was even here. Aldric Fortescue danced with an older-looking woman I assumed was Mrs. Fortescue, and another couple I didn’t recognize followed. Most of the dancers seemed clumsy compared to Anastasia and Aldric.
I used to dance. Only a year ago, I was still taking classes—pop, ballet, jazz, ballroom, modern, even a little Latin. Then I came to Daizlei and everything changed, but I still loved to dance.
“Would you like to dance?” Lucas asked me.
“How many times have I told you not to read my mind?”
“I wasn’t,” he countered, but he still sounded pleased.
I turned to him. “Can you dance?”
You’re playing with fire. I welcomed the flames.
“A little.” He smirked.
I sighed and rose from my chair.
He held out his arm, and I took it as he led us to the dance floor. The music changed just as he pulled me by the waist, close to his body, and a tango began. He slid his hand down to my lower back as we started to dance. I glided through the steps, moving swiftly across the floor.
“I never took you for a dancer.” His eyes twinkled in the candlelight cast by the damned antique chandelier.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I repeated my mantra as he moved me backward. My heels clicked. This was the perfect dress for this. Short enough to let me move, and modest enough to keep it from looking scandalous. What better to tango in?
“Oh really? I think I know you better than you assume.” He let go, and I went spinning across the floor. My legs moved swiftly, carrying me as I fell into the heat of the moment. I stopped before there was too much distance, my arms at my sides and head high. I smiled to myself as we crossed the floor, meeting again. He wrapped his arms around my waist as he held me close. I tried to ignore the smell of his skin, the way his hand felt on my back, and how he was ever so slowly caressing my skin with his thumb. We’d been close to each other all year, but this felt different.
“Oh, is that so?” I dipped.
“Yes.” He grinned and whirled me around.
“What’s my favorite food?” I asked, amused by this little game. I was well aware I was flirting with him now, but it felt so good. I didn’t stop.
“Double cheeseburger.”
“Color?” I asked.
“Black—”
“Hah!” I cut him off as he backed me up again.
“—looks best on you, but purple’s your favorite.”
When I didn’t say anything, he gave me a smug look.
“What’s my middle name?” I smiled. I so had him.
“Analysa,” he murmured, looking at me in a way that would’ve made a lesser woman blush. He should’ve known better.
“How do you know that?” I knew for a fact that only two people at that school knew my middle name. I’d never told anyone. It was my mother’s name, but—as good as he was—I highly doubted he knew that.
“I have my secrets,” he replied, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. That bastard. Quoting me? Fuck him.
“There’s a lot more to me than a silly color and some food,” I said haughtily and let go of him on the twirl, causing me to go spiraling across the floor. His mouthed popped open as he watched me.
“Oh, I know.” He laughed taking me back into our tango, which was coming to a close. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.” His voice held a promise as he pulled me in for the end.
“Maybe.” I drew my leg up, wrapping it around his waist as he picked me up.
The music stopped, and he looked down at me for a second before putting me down.
Bad Selena, I reprimanded myself. Oh, I was in so much trouble. I should not have done that because now I would dream about the smell of
him for weeks.
The room broke into applause, and I turned to see that everyone had stopped dancing to watch us. I smiled as I walked around to take my seat back at the table.
“Thank you,” I mouthed to Lucas.
Smirking, he nodded once.
“You’re quite light on your feet, Ms. Foster. I’ve rarely seen such grace,” Aldric Fortescue complimented me.
“Thank you, but I’m a boxer. I have to be light on my feet. If I’m not, well . . . I shouldn’t be boxing.” I faked joviality as I sipped my wine, and the waiters set plates of food in front of us.
“That’s very true. A girl your size could be killed in the ring if not careful,” Aldric agreed.
“I suppose, but I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that anytime soon,” I said vaguely, taking another bite of my salad. I was completely aware of Anastasia watching me with peculiar interest.
“Why is that?” His dark brown eyes locked on mine.
“I’ve never lost, and I don’t plan on starting now,” I declared with the confidence I’d always had. Fighting came naturally to me. It was second nature. I could tell he didn’t quite understand this.
“You’ve never lost. That’s quite a feat. Let us toast to victory and the many more to come,” he announced, raising his glass.
“To victory,” I murmured, touching my glass to Lucas’s and Anastasia’s. A smile found its way to my lips as I sipped the wine. I could still feel the heat of the tango, the feel of his hands, and I knew deep down that I’d crossed a line I couldn’t come back from.
Chapter 47
“You made quite an impression on the Council tonight,” Lucas noted. We were strolling through the garden and I felt strangely at ease.
“Yes, I did, didn’t I? I think part of that’s because of Anastasia.” My mind was still reeling from dinner. My heels clicked lightly as I walked, and I occasionally smelled a flower here and there.
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