by H. D. Gordon
“Dita,” my father said, appearing from around the side of the shack. He pulled me into the long, tight hug he always gave me upon greeting. “I haven’t seen you a lot lately,” he said into my hair.
“I’ve been busy,” I said, pulling away from him after I’d allowed the embrace long enough not to offend.
Jodi appeared behind him, stumbling drunkenly despite the fact that suppertime had only just passed. “Oh, good, Dita,” she said, and held her hand out to me. “It’s the Harvest Celebration. We need some money.”
My father cast her a slightly annoyed look, as he often did when she was downright embarrassing, but switched the expression to a small grin when he looked back at me. “We just want to have a little fun tonight,” he said, and sniffed. “You got anything to spare?”
On my orders, my father had no idea about my dealings with Lukas Borden and the moonshine I was selling him. For obvious reasons, it was best this way.
I sighed and reached into my pocket, removing an amount of money that was generous, but not so generous that they might start asking questions, and placed it in Jodi’s waiting hand.
“Enjoy yourselves,” I said, giving the female a toothy smile. She knew I hated her, and I was well aware of how she felt about me.
If my father noticed this exchange between his daughter and his mate, he did not acknowledge it. Instead, he snatched the money from her and stuffed it into his own pocket. Then, he gave me a wet kiss on the forehead.
“My Dita,” he said in my head. “What would I do without you?”
I offered him a more genuine smile, and the two of them shuffled off into the chaos that was The Mound, likely to spend all the money on drugs and booze and whatever other substance they could find.
With them occupied for the evening, I gathered my siblings, and we began the walk toward Borden, where the Harvest Celebration fire shows would be starting within an hour or so.
We were not the only ones heading toward town, so the twins rode on Demarco’s and Devon’s shoulders as we joined the steady flow of people moving down the dirt path. Delia walked alongside me, talking about this and that as we followed the boys and the twins. She was happy, I realized, excited for a night of treats and entertainment, and I envied her innocence.
In fact, looking at my five siblings, bouncing merrily along—perhaps with the exception of Devon, who had given me a look earlier that said we would soon finish our conversation about what had happened the previous night—I realized that I envied all of them.
They were everything that was good in the world.
My whole world, really.
And it was exactly in that moment that I came to the understanding that one did not need money to be rich, and that one could have so much to lose, without ever really winning.
The harsh bite of winter hung in the air, but that did not stop the people from spilling out of their dwellings and onto the streets of Borden.
It seemed every supernatural creature in the Southlands was present, Wolves and Vamps, Fae and magic users, other shifters and the like. All were in jolly moods, as the Winter Harvest Celebration was the one time of year that class and race did not separate us, a twist of the norm that was a long-standing tradition.
The shine flowed like the Zouri, goblets and glasses being tipped up and distributed around every corner despite the ban. People were bundled in their best furs and cloaks, their cheeks rosy with intoxication and the chill that owned the air.
As previously mentioned, Borden was not a large town; there were about half a dozen streets that held shops and other various services, and maybe triple that many residential streets. But the Zouri snaked along the western side of it, and it was here that the people gathered to watch the annual fire show.
Lined up along the edges of the docks and the sandy banks were vendors selling everything from frozen cream to fresh coffee and rich, seasoned meat that came on little wooden sticks. Usually, I would be lucky to have enough extra money to buy the twins and Delia one thing each, while Demarco, Devon, and I made do with stealing occasional bites of whatever the girls chose. But thanks to my most recent endeavors, I had enough to indulge all my siblings with whatever items they wanted.
Things had been overly stressful as of late, and if just for tonight, I would be sure to take the good with the bad. Having enough money to enjoy the Winter Harvest Celebration was definitely some of the good.
After filling the twins hands and pockets with sugary treats and salty snacks, and buying seasoned meat sticks and hot coffee for me and my brothers, we returned to the edge of the Zouri to watch the start of the fire show.
No shipments would be coming in or out tonight, as the water was reserved for the show. From the decks of enormous steam ships, the flares of the flames began to appear, magic users producing fire of various colors between the palms of their hands. I knew that Kyra was likely among them, as she reveled in the one night a year where such a display of power was not forbidden, and I sent out a silent thought of gratitude to have the Sorceress as a friend.
“They’re starting,” Delia said, and I couldn’t keep a smile from my lips as I took in the excitement on her face.
My siblings and I were huddled close together, sharing warmth and snacks as we stared along with the rest of the people at the magnificent display about to begin.
Those orbs of vibrant flame that had appeared in the palms of the magic users shot up into the dark night sky, like flaming comets born of the earth. Their blaze reflected in the surface of the Zouri, making for a show both on the water and above. Up and up they went, soaring high enough to be mistaken for flaming stars of scarlet, azure, violet, emerald, and every other color. Every eye present followed their ascent, and when those soaring orbs exploded into glittering showers of brilliant light, a collective gasp of appreciation rose up from the crowd.
Beside me, Analise and Ada let out small squeals of delight, their breath puffing out into the cold air in clouds. I wrapped their little bodies under my arms, drawing them even closer as the bright lights of the flames reflected in their big brown eyes. Devon caught my gaze and gave me a small smile, speaking into my head in the telepathic manner we shared.
“I’m sorry for what I said before,” my older brother told me. “I was wrong.”
My brow furrowed as I studied his face, the fire show blazing in spectacular fashion before us. “What are you talking about?”
A bit of shame came over his expression. “When I called you cold-hearted. It’s not true, and I didn’t mean it.”
My throat went a little tight, but I swallowed past it, giving him a nod as we returned our attention to the show, which was growing more and more magnificent as it headed for the finale.
I spotted Kyra at last, on the dock of one of the smaller boats. She looked stunningly beautiful, with her cloud of black, curly hair and big violet eyes, and also utterly terrifying, as orbs of colorful flame flew off her fingertips in an endless stream, soaring up and up into the night sky to explode into a thousand pieces of flaming purple rain.
As if sensing my attention, the Sorceress caught my eyes across the water, and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought my old friend winked at me.
When my mouth tugged up at both edges, it took me a moment to realize I was smiling full on, and there was nothing half or smug about it.
Chapter 18
Now, as I stood on the lawn of the most ostentatious home in all of Borden and the surrounding areas, dwarfed by the shadow of the enormous structure, no smile, smug or otherwise, found its way to my face.
To say the property was sprawling would be an understatement. A few miles beyond the edge of town and adorning the eastern edge of the Zouri, was the Borden Estate.
I felt utterly ridiculous standing before it, like a fraud amongst experts. Lukas had requested my presence at the Winter Harvest Ball he and his family held every year by way of magic, a silky little white note arriving in a bottle on the front stoop of my house.
Devon an
d I had been sitting out there, watching the Wolves roam and ruckus through The Mound, when the message had arrived.
With a small pop and slight shimmering of air, the little bottle of blue glass had appeared. After nearly falling out of our chairs, Devon and I had exchanged glances, and then my brother had moved to retrieve the bottle.
He held it up to look at it. Then he looked at me with raised brows. “It’s for you,” he said.
I’d known immediately whom it was from. Mailing magic was expensive, not something an average Wolf would employ unless there were no other options and the matter was something dire and urgent (as it had been when I’d killed Ezra Ikers and summoned my brothers by way of bottle.) I didn’t need to see the Borden’s family seal—a Wolf with its head thrown back, howling at the moon—to know from whom it had come.
I’d taken the bottle and examined it, my older brother’s gaze burning into me with silent question. I popped out the cork and tipped out the little rolled up scroll inside. The silky paper slid out and into my waiting hand.
I could have sworn that all of The Mound went silent as I broke the wax seal holding the paper together and unfurled the fancy note.
It read:
Miss Silvers,
Mr. Lukas Borden requests your presence at the Borden’s Annual Winter Harvest Ball.
The time, date, and address were also listed, and instead of explaining the damn thing to Devon, I merely handed the note over, and let him read it for himself. I slid my hands into my pockets, where they rested over my irons, and studied the toes of my boots. I hadn’t trusted my voice to speak just then.
“Are you going to go?” my brother had asked me in the telepathic manner we shared.
I stared out at The Mound, with its ramshackle structures and barren ground, and replied, “I’m pretty sure I don’t really have a choice, brother.” I nodded toward the small scroll still in his hand. “Despite the wording, I don’t think that was a request.”
“There is always a choice, Dita,” my brother had said.
And despite the fact that the Gods knew I loved him, I had to resist the urge to snap that I did not feel like hearing his philosophical bullshit just then.
Shortly after this note had arrived, two ornate gift boxes with big red bows had followed, the air shimmering and the boxes popping into place in the same magical manner as had the message in a bottle. Inside these boxes had been a dress and shoes finer than any I’d ever owned in all my life. Both of them in exactly my sizes.
I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered by this, or creeped out. As the event drew closer, however, I settled on the latter.
Now, I stood on the front lawn of the massive Borden estate, having just stepped out of the horse and buggy I’d acquired to bring me here. Devon steered the wagon, insisting that he would wait just outside with the rest of the drivers and stable hands in case I needed him. My knee-jerk reaction to this had been to say absolutely not, and to ask him just what he thought he could even do should the Bordens decide to kidnap or harm me?
But some part of me recognized that I was not the only one in the family who felt the need to look after the others, and that if it made him feel better to stand out in the horse poo all night while I drank the finest shine money could buy with a bunch of the wealthiest supernaturals this side of the Zouri, then I may as well allow it.
I would not have admitted it as Devon brought the buggy to a stop at the top of the drive, but I was suddenly very, very glad to have my big brother with me. He was dressed in the same clean but simple suit all of the other servants wore, and he hopped down from the driver’s seat to open the buggy door and hold out a hand for me to climb out.
As I’d placed my hand in his and stepped out, I’d silently stolen some of the strength he offered, giving him a small smile before steeling myself for the night ahead.
“I’m here if you need me,” Devon promised, before climbing back up into the driver’s seat and snapping the reins, moving the horses forward along with the rest of the procession of arrivals.
The gown I was wearing was as extravagant as the house I stood in front of, made of the softest of silks and falling down the curves of my body like molten liquid. The fabric had been died a deep red, a color not unlike fresh blood.
Despite the fact that it left little about my figure to the imagination, it was the damn high heels I was really cursing as I took one final breath and strode up the huge front steps of the esteemed Borden estate.
The wide double doors were thrown open to the night, and light, warmth, and music spilled out onto the porch, like the unfurling tongue of some great hungry beast.
Telling myself that this was no big deal, that being invited to Lukas’s party was likely something he extended to all of those who did business with him, I hiked up the hem of my gown and followed the sounds of the revelry inside.
For someone who had grown up in the slums, to whom luxury was a mattress on the floor of a cold room, the sight of the inside of the Borden estate was mind numbing.
Chandeliers dripping crystals hung from the high ceilings, which had been painted by an expert hand to resemble angels and demons in a mural that spanned the great entry hall. The floors were cold, polished marble, and tables painted a shiny gold held vases spilling over with fragrant blooms.
A red runner went from the front double doors down the center of the room, and two enormous staircases curved up either side of it. Supernaturals in monkey suits carried around silver trays piled with tiny foods the likes of which I’d never encountered. Females with painted, beautiful faces and bodies in sparse clothing also circulated, the trays they held balancing glasses filled with what I was sure was the finest shine money could purchase.
The servants outnumbered the guests two to one, but you would not have guessed it from the silent and unobtrusive way they floated through the crowd, hardly acknowledged save for when the older males gawked shamelessly at the scantily clad younger females.
Perhaps I’d been wrong about me not hating the wealthy, I thought as I walked into the fray with my shoulders held back and my head high. I didn’t fail to notice that more than a few of the male gazes also followed me.
In all of my life, I’d never seen such prosperity, and when I thought about the lavender field workers, and the miners, and the working ladies on the streets and in the brothels, about the slums that stood in such contrast to this estate, I thought maybe I hated them all, indeed.
And even though I was both feared and respected in my local community for my stoicism, I’d never felt more out of place and uncomfortable than I did just then, standing in that great and gaudy foyer in a gown that was worth more than most Wolves made in a full cycle of the moon.
“Dita?” said a familiar voice behind me, and it was so out of place in the setting that it took me a moment to even pinpoint how I knew it.
But as I spun on my heels, the silky fabric of the gown swiveling with me, my heart skipped a beat or two in my chest. Then stopped entirely.
Erek stood there, wearing a nice suit. His dark hair was combed back neatly, his handsome face lit up in a wide smile, green eyes drinking in the vision of me in the red dress.
I swear to the Gods that I contemplated just running out of there like a lunatic as I had the last time I’d encountered him; pretending I hadn’t heard him and hobbling away as fast as these dreadful heels could carry me. The image of me doing just that darted through my head, both amusing and ridiculous. As usual, I calmed myself with some effort and somehow managed to force a smile to my face.
“Hello, Erek,” I said.
He closed the distance between us, and again, I fought the urge to run. What in all the Gods holy hell was he doing here?
“You look absolutely beautiful, Miss Silvers,” Erek said as he placed a friendly kiss on my cheek, his hand slipping around the back of my waist as he did so. If I hadn’t been so cold with shock, I might have acknowledged the heat that spiraled through me at his touch.
“Than
k you,” I said.
I wouldn’t allow myself to look around and check, but I felt like I could feel every eye in the room on us. There were at least three Wolves within ear shot who were no doubt listening to every word, preparing to report back to Lukas. I’d spotted the goons as soon as I’d walked in, picked them out from the other guests and servants. Cursing the Gods for this twist of ill fate, I told myself sternly not to panic until I knew the specifics about why the Hound would be at the Borden’s Winter Harvest Ball.
“Would you do me the honor of a dance?” Erek asked me, his green eyes as bright as emeralds.
Seeing no other option, I laced my arm through the elbow he offered, and allowed him to lead me through another set of double doors at the end of the hall, which let into the great ballroom.
Had I not been hanging on the arm of a Hound who was looking into a murder I’d committed, into the party of a dangerous Wolf who I was doing illegal business with, I’m sure the gross display of wealth would have made my already knotted stomach turn.
In a shocking epiphany, I confirmed that I had been wrong about wanting to be like these people; nobody needed this much money, magic, or power.
But, for obvious reasons, this was not the subject that was making it hard not to ball my hands into fists. It was the realization that, in my ambitions, I had finally waded into a pool much deeper than I’d imagined, and the water was slowly rising over my head.
Be cool, I commanded myself, forcing my shoulders to relax, my expression to remain neutral. Never in my life had I felt so naked without the familiar weight of my irons at my hips. Never had I felt so vulnerable.
I should not have come here. I should have tossed that damn message in the bottle into the Zouri and allowed it to end up where it may.
The ballroom was full of even more supernaturals in fine clothing, and others in the clothing of the servants. More sparkling chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and ornate pillars and enormous columns lined the room. A band of musicians plucked at strings in the corner, making a sweet melody fill the warm space. With the way the room was set up, there was no way not to make an entrance, especially when you were wearing a form-fitting dress colored like blood and fire.