Static rushes through my body, adrenaline flaring to life.I scan the floor, trying to dodge around everyone’s feet.It’s not just one droplet.
There’s a path of them dotted every foot or so.Some of them are smudged and smeared where feet carelessly tread on them.
“Shit.”
In an instant, I’m up and running, desperate to find Octavia and signal the alarm.I push my pace right to the edge of vampire speed; I don’t want to alarm the guests by displaying overt signs of vampirism, but there’s no fucking time.I need to get to Penelope.
Octavia and Red stand just past the last magician in my path, and I jolt to a halt next to them.Thank the Mother of Blood they are still on alert, their eyes focused on Penelope and Morrigan.
“What is it?”Octavia says.Her expression is calm, but I can tell from the bite in her tone that she recognises my panic.
“Where is she?”
Octavia points to Penelope still dancing with her sister.
“Sound the alarm.He’s here.”
Red springs into action.“I’ll find Daria.”She vanishes nearly as fast as I arrived.
My skin prickles.The music speeds up, a thudding beat ringing through the room.
“Where is he?”Octavia says, her tone insistent.
I scan the room.Left.Right.Left.The door.The windows.Fuck.Where the hell did he go?
“Dahlia?”
I scan again.Faster.My eyes darting this way.That.FUCK.Where did he go?
“Dahlia?”Octavia barks.
I search faster.Finally.Got you.“There,” I say, pointing at the shadow moving way too fast to be a magician.My body feels like lead as I track his movement and realise what he’s doing: circling Penelope and Morrigan.
“Mother of Blood,” I breathe.
“Go!”Octavia says, and we split up, moving through the crowds towards Penelope.I shouldn’t have fucking left her.I never should have left her side, even to investigate.Gods dammit.
I ball my fists as I push and shove my way through the throngs of people.Always tracking the shadow.But as fast as I move through the crowd, he moves faster.
I’m not going to reach him.
And the deeper I push onto the dance floor, the further away Penelope seems to be.I want to shout and scream at her to get over here, but if I do, I’ll alert the attacker.Or worse, set the crowds into a panic.
I’m almost there.Octavia too.She advances from the other side of Morrigan and Penelope.
But we’re too late.
The music cuts out violently.A roar rents the air.The frivolity of the dance floor grinds to a halt.
There’s one breathless moment of silence.A drawn breath held in the bellies of five hundred magicians.And then someone screams.
The shadow careens to a halt.His head is covered with a hood.
Time slows.
I bellow at Penelope to run.But she’s frozen in place.She’s not going to escape in time.
Something glints and I realise where the source of the blood I scented came from.A giant blade hangs from his hand, covered in the kind of coagulating rouge only discernible as one thing.
