He topped his comments off with a smirk, which quickly faded when Hansa emerged from above, followed closely by Caia. I could almost hear Blaze’s pulse stop for a couple of seconds, and I pressed my lips tight to stop myself from laughing. As full of jokes and ridicule as they were, one look at Hansa and Caia and both Jax and Blaze were upright blobs.
They had every reason, though. Hansa was a vision in a sleeveless, golden-yellow silk ballgown, her rich black hair pulled tight in an elegant bun with gold pins, an abundance of diamonds around her slender neck.
Caia, on the other hand, had opted for a slightly simple but exquisite dress, with a skin-color sleeveless chiffon top covered in blue gems, a slim golden belt, and a rich, royal-blue chiffon skirt. It brought out the bluish tint in her eyes, as she’d styled her blond hair in a tight, luscious bun.
My gaze kept darting between Jax and Hansa, then Blaze and Caia, wondering how long it would take for both the Mara and the fire dragon to find their words.
“Sorry we’re late,” Hansa said, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on Jax. “It took longer than I thought to get this dress on by myself. I ended up asking Caia for help.”
“That’s fine, we haven’t been waiting for long,” Jax replied, his voice raw and his eyes glued to her face.
Heron’s head turned, and he glared at his brother. Up until a minute ago, Jax had been the most impatient of us all. Heron wasn’t going to forgive him for this. I sensed there would be some hilarious banter later in the evening.
The music poured from the inside, a pleasant mélange of strings and keys, accompanied by laughter and fragments of casual conversation. The Spring Ball was well underway in the Kifo mansion, and it was our turn to join the party.
“Blaze!” Rewa’s voice made us all turn our heads toward the main entrance.
The Exiled Mara looked beautiful as well, expertly fitted into an ivory silk ballgown, which was covered in faux flowers and multicolored gemstones. She rushed down the main stairs and hooked her arm through Blaze’s with a radiant smile.
“Glad to see you’ve all made it,” she said, beaming at us. “And you all look wonderful. I’m glad to see Vincent’s tailors took such good care of you!”
“Thank you, Rewa.” Hansa nodded politely.
I noticed Caia’s discomfort before she tucked it away beneath a polite smile aimed at Rewa, who then motioned toward the main entrance.
“Shall we go in, then?” she asked.
“Lead the way,” Jax replied.
We followed her inside. Caia moved closer to me.
“You look sizzling hot,” she whispered, and gave me an appreciative sideways glance.
“Thanks. You’ll be turning some heads in there for sure.” I winked. “I just hope they don’t break their necks in the process.”
We both chuckled. Avril, Fiona, and Scarlett walked behind us.
“Remember, ladies,” Avril murmured. “Keep the Five Lords busy while Heron and I find our way out and get to Arrah.”
“Sure thing,” I replied. “Just give it about half an hour before you rush out, so you don’t draw attention to yourselves. It’ll take a while to get the Lords busy without making ourselves look awkward.”
“Right. Yeah. No worries.”
We walked into the mansion, and I found myself dazzled and slightly overwhelmed by the sumptuous interiors. The main reception hall stretched into two huge ballrooms, one on either side, with two sets of arching stairs leading to the upper floor, where a banquet hall awaited.
The walls were a pristine white with gold-brushed molding, elaborate paintings covering the ceilings, and superb crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. The French windows were clad in elegant, metallic-gray chiffon curtains, and the flooring was made entirely from glossy parquet. Dozens of waiters moved around the ballrooms with trays of blood in champagne flutes, while a band played in the space between the staircases. The acoustics were exquisite, I realized, as I could hear the music traveling throughout the reception hall with pristine clarity and high volume.
Hundreds of Exiled Maras were attending, some gazing at the sophisticated artwork on the walls and luxurious furniture pieces, while some were dancing, and others were engaged in various clusters of conversation.
I felt many eyes on us, but none burned as hot as Caspian’s, who gazed down at us from the top of the stairs. Emilian, Rowan, Darius, and Farrah were with him, all wearing polite smiles and Spring Ball outfits in silky shades of lavender, pink, green, and soft blue. Caspian resembled a marble Renaissance statue, exquisitely fitted into a dark green suit paired with a sharp white shirt and a gold-thread waistcoat.
I held my breath as his gaze found mine, then gradually darkened as he measured me from head to toe. There was a twinkle I hadn’t seen before, a fleeting softness that went away and was quickly replaced by his usual cold glare.
He descended the stairs, followed by the other Lords and Ladies. Emilian passed in front of him and came to greet us with a bow and a polite smile.
“Thank you for joining us tonight,” he said. “It is a pleasure to have you all here, looking so beautiful. It’s almost as if you’re part of our world.”
“You’re too kind,” Jax replied with a half-smile, his eyes darting through the reception hall. “But I wouldn’t make such a bold statement if I were you. I have a feeling that your guests aren’t all that happy to see us.”
Once Jax pointed it out, I noticed the discrepancy between the fancy dresses and the wariness in the Maras’ eyes. Sure, we’d dazzled them with our outfits and whatnot, but that momentary glow had quickly been replaced by a faint sense of anxiety. They couldn’t see the weapons we’d strapped beneath our ballgowns and suits, but, given our combat training, we couldn’t shake off our military demeanor or our inquisitive stares.
I wasn’t entirely sure if we were intimidating or simply caused an overall feeling of displeasure among the Exiled Maras. We were here to help, but were they keen to have us present in the middle of their springtime celebration?
“Oh, no,” Emilian chuckled, “they’re simply not used to strangers, that is all. These are all good people who have come to enjoy themselves, try out new blood recipes, listen to music, dance, and enjoy the company of others. You shouldn’t worry.”
“Seeing you here just puts them on edge,” Darius cut in, “since you remind them of the people we’ve lost so far, and your mission to find out what happened. Please, do not take it personally.”
I took a deep breath and did my best to avoid looking at Caspian. But it didn’t take more than a few seconds to find my gaze locked with his again. I wished I could read his mind, but the Maras were immune to my sentry abilities.
I needed to keep myself focused on my mission.
He is my mission.
This was going to be an interesting night, to say the least.
Fiona
(Daughter of Benedict & Yelena)
I’d thought Vincent would be by his mother’s side when the Lords came down to greet us, but he wasn’t. I took one of the blood flutes from a waiter’s tray and engaged Rowan in conversation, while the rest of our team did the same with other Maras. Slowly but surely, we were going to use our charms and smiles to keep the Lords busy and not paying attention to Heron and Avril.
“This is a beautiful event, Rowan,” I said with genuine admiration.
She smiled, glowing in her yellowish-green ballgown, as she scanned the entire ballroom.
“Thank you. We put a lot of effort into it every year,” she replied, then took a sip from her blood flute.
“Do you have balls often?”
“Oh, we have one to celebrate each of the four seasons we get here.” She nodded. “Each year, without exception. It’s important to our way of life to mark these little moments and give them value. And our people love dressing up, so it’s always quite the visual spectacle!”
“I can definitely see that.” I smirked, glancing over the sea of stylish up-dos, glimmering gems, a
nd smooth, colorful fabrics.
“Fiona!” Vincent’s voice made me turn my head.
Heat instantly spread through my cheeks when I saw the way he looked at me. His green gaze was dark and intense, lust lighting it on fire as he closed the distance between us. He looked handsome as hell, sporting a champagne-pink suit with a pearl-gray shirt and a white ascot. I didn’t often appreciate any shade of pink on a guy, but I had to admit that Vincent wore it a little too well, as I found myself staring and wondering what it would be like to touch his chest and feel that fabric on my fingertips.
“Vincent.” Rowan snapped me out of my reverie. “Darling, why don’t you join us for a drink?”
She snatched another flute from a passing waiter’s tray and handed it to Vincent. He smiled and gave her a thankful nod, then bowed before me with a seductive smirk. I was used to guys giving me these looks and asking me out and all that dating malarkey, but the way Vincent did it made me blush and flutter my eyelashes like a genuine damsel. I barely recognized myself.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said slowly, then came closer, enough to make me crane my neck a little to look him in the eyes. “You look absolutely stunning, Fiona.”
“You’re too kind.” I smiled and lowered my head, sipping from my flute.
“I’m simply describing what I see,” he replied, then took my glass and discarded it onto a tall nearby table, along with his own. He firmly took my hand, his eyes locked on mine. “Mother, excuse us, but I must dance with this wonderful creature.”
He made me giggle as he gently pulled me onto the dancefloor, resting one hand on my waist. He led me through a soft waltz, giving me enough time and space to acquaint myself with the rhythm and melody, before he got close enough for me to inhale his fragrance.
“How is your investigation coming along?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze burning.
“It’s still early days.” I shrugged. “Still many unknowns, but we’re hoping to identify a pattern over the next day or so.”
“If there is anything I can do to help, please do let me know,” Vincent offered. “I will do whatever I can to get my sister back.”
“I will definitely let you know if you can help.” I gave him a reassuring smile.
Something weighed heavy in my stomach at the sight of his torment over the loss of his sister, Sienna. I felt a powerful urge to help him, and his gentle display of both willingness to help and raw emotion had an interesting effect on my senses. Vincent was attractive by all possible standards, and I was in no way indifferent to his charms. Keeping him distracted for the evening certainly didn’t feel like a chore.
“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” I suggested, placing my hands on his shoulders as he pulled me closer. A slower song began to play, which required some mellow swaying. Vincent was an excellent dancer. “I know next to nothing.”
“You want to know more about me?” He raised his eyebrows with genuine delight. “Where do I start?”
I laughed lightly and caught a glimpse of Avril and Heron dancing their way toward what looked like one of the servants’ exits at the far end of the ballroom. They kept looking around, waiting for the perfect moment to sneak out and go see Arrah at Vincent’s mansion. Their plight gave me the courage I needed to push myself closer to Vincent, enough for our faces to be only a few inches apart. I felt his grip on my hips tighten, and I knew he was reacting to my gesture.
“I don’t know. Tell me whatever you think will help me understand you—the real you,” I replied, lowering my voice.
I mentally congratulated myself for being so smooth, as it definitely had an effect on him. He took a deep breath and lowered his head, his cheek brushing against mine as we danced.
“I’m merely the product of the happy marriage between my mother and my father,” he said. “Since my father passed away some years back, however, I’ve learned to appreciate the special people in my life. If I meet someone who makes my heart beat faster, I always make sure to keep them close and enjoy their company, like my parents did with each other. Such emotions are rare and precious, and I place great value on them.”
He gave me a sideways glance as he said that, expecting me to understand the underlying statement.
“What do you want to do with your life?” I asked, trying to keep my cool, despite his closeness and his body heat seeping into my skin whenever our cheeks touched. The physical attraction was definitely there.
“I’m going to inherit House Roho,” he replied, holding me close as we swayed across the dancefloor, the fluid music flowing around us. “I love the arts, and I plan to live a long life enriching the lives of my people and supporting artistic development. I would actually like to see Azure Heights become able to export its artwork to other worlds. Perhaps even develop some trade agreements. I know we keep to ourselves here, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I think the rest of the worlds would love what we have to offer…”
I nodded, processing his views of the future. He had some entrepreneurial visions that were different from the otherwise isolationist policy of Azure Heights. I couldn’t help but wonder if the other Lords would ever agree to such a proposal.
“What about you, Fiona?” he asked, pulling his head back so he could peer into my eyes. “What do you want to do?”
I blinked several times, trying to think of an honest answer that I could give. I’d asked myself that question on different occasions, and my conclusions always brought me to the core of GASP. All my roads took me to a life with the agency, helping supernaturals and defending those who couldn’t protect themselves. It had been instilled in me since I was a kid.
“My life is with GASP,” I replied. “Upholding justice, protecting the innocent… I was raised into it, and I firmly believe in all supernaturals’ rights to a free and decent life. I refuse to let anyone take that away from them. I guess I see myself in a senior officer position someday. Maybe even in charge of my own base, or out there, exploring the In-Between… I don’t know. I have plenty of time to think about it.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes scanning my face with what looked like a mix of curiosity and fascination. As if he were trying to understand what made me tick.
We were two creatures, from two different worlds, who seemed to each have a voracious appetite for what the future held. I didn’t feel like anything could stop me from getting what I wanted, and he didn’t seem to mind.
I could have slapped myself for how I was reacting to his gaze, his touch. My second day on Neraka, and I was already letting Vincent get a little too close. It was alarming because I didn’t make a habit of crushing on complete strangers.
There was something about him that I liked, undeniably, but as we continued to dance and talk throughout the night, there was also something deeper underneath his façade… something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I had a feeling he wasn’t telling us everything about Sienna, and the fact that we knew his servants had been mind-bent didn’t help, either. It made me keep my defenses high, despite his charm.
Nevertheless, he was a pleasant way to pass the evening, and I sure didn’t mind his attention.
Especially while Avril and Heron were infiltrating his mansion.
Avril
(Daughter of Lucas & Marion)
Heron and I had been dancing for twenty minutes straight. We were trying to move close enough to one of the service doors so we could sneak out and find Arrah in the Roho mansion, but there were so many people glancing at us between turns on the dancefloor. Not to mention the lustful smiles we both got from Maras chilling by one of the bars.
I was getting frustrated and peculiarly hot, with Heron’s arms wrapped around my waist, his body hard and searing against mine, and his fragrance invading my nostrils and filling my senses. He was a massive distraction—and we had a mission to accomplish.
“I think I should’ve gone for something more… drab,” I muttered, noticing another male Exiled Mara winking my way, forcing me to roll my
eyes.
“Frankly, after how long it took you to pick a dress and come help us in the library, I’m glad you look like… this,” Heron grumbled, managing to get us to the edge of the dancefloor.
“Yeah, well, it’s not helping. It’s red and bright and everybody’s looking. How the hell are we going to sneak out?”
“That’s not why they’re looking,” Heron replied.
“Don’t tell me it’s because you’re looking so dashing, because I will slap you, Heron Dorchadas,” I shot back.
“You could be wearing a burlap sack and they’d still be looking, Avril. You’re simply beautiful and don’t need a flashy red dress to stand out.”
He floored me with that statement. I held my breath as my gaze found his. His expression was hard, his jade eyes burning, and a muscle was twitching in his jaw. He had this way of being honest and capable of completely debilitating me at the same time, all so cleanly and effortlessly. I was impressed, and my throat burned.
“That being said, the red and the cleavage aren’t helping either. I’m having trouble focusing. I think I’ll file a complaint against you when we get back, for inappropriate conduct in a work environment,” he added, a grin blooming on his gorgeous face, which I suddenly had an urge to slap.
That was Heron, after all. He turned me into a hot mess with a glance and few words, then poured ice water all over me and expected me to thank him.
“That’s funny, because I could’ve sworn people were staring at your two left feet.” I raised an eyebrow.
He frowned, then feigned his outrage.
“What? I’ll have you know I’m one of the best dancers to come out of White City,” he replied.
“Did you come out of White City, or did you get kicked out for waltzing like a horse with broken legs?”
He didn’t bother with a comeback, but I’d definitely hit a nerve. I gasped as he spun me around, then pulled me tight against him. He led me in a smooth, tango-like dance, following the strings and drums of the music.
A Shade of Vampire 52_A Valley of Darkness Page 6