When Thomas arched a brow, Day laughed. “Dexter Morgan,” he said, gesturing to himself, then pointed at his partner. “Detective Doakes.”
“That’s a good one,” Aiden said from across the room, voice lazy with amusement.
Thomas smiled faintly, but his eyes were elsewhere, on the clock above the double doors, ticking closer to the inevitable arrival of their final guest. The laughter, the costumes, the glittering warmth, all of it was camouflage. A theater of civility wrapped around a single, savage purpose.
Soon, the mask would drop.
Jayne Shepherd and Elijah Dunne had arrived earlier, dressed as Van Helsing and Dracula, and now hovered near the entryway with Archer and Mac. Lincoln had come as Commissioner Gordon to match Wyatt’s Catwoman suit, a pairing that was equal parts inspired and deeply confusing.
“How did you even manage to get that on?” Archer asked, clearly fascinated by the skin-tight latex bodysuit.
Wyatt gave him an almost haunted look. “I’m not gonna lie, it took hours, and a metric ton of baby powder. Now I feel a little claustrophobic.”
“Well, you look fabulous,” Charlie said, twirling one of the plastic vines dangling from the fiery red wig of her Poison Ivy costume.
“Oh, hey,” Wyatt said suddenly, pointing toward someone across the room. “Harley Quinn. You should totally hit on her.”
Thomas laughed when they followed Wyatt’s finger only to find Cricket turning around, her round belly on full display above her sequined shorts. Her white babydoll vintage tee read Daddy’s Little Psycho.
“Or not,” Wyatt muttered. “Oof. Didn’t realize she wastaken.”
Aiden grinned. “Technically, she’s not.”
Everyone turned to stare, expressions equal parts curious and scandalized.
He chuckled. “Not like that. She’s August and Lucas’s…not surrogate, that’s not right. Hetero life mate? Baby mama? That’s baby number four.”
Charlie’s brows shot up. “You’re telling me that goddess has hadthreeother kids? I can see why they wanna keep that DNA. Damn.” She bit her lip. “You said she’s single?”
Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond. Cricket’s love life—or lack thereof—wasn’t his story to tell. She never hid that she was aromantic and asexual, but still. It wasn’t for him to explain. Besides, anyone who mistook her kindness for availability didn’t understand Cricket. She wasn’t a violent person but if she was forced to she could easily end a man with a smile and a glitter-covered mallet.
“You gonna hit on a heavily pregnant woman?” Elijah asked, amusement flickering in his eyes.
Charlie narrowed her own. “And why can’t I?”
“Youdokind of give off evil stepmother energy,” Day said, gesturing emphatically.
“I would be anamazingstepmom, thank you very much,” Charlie shot back, snagging a glass of champagne as she crossed the room toward Cricket, who was mid-conversation with Matty, who was also in a Spiderman costume, though not the one Thomas remembered.
Thomas caught Aiden’s eye across the crowd and suppressed a smile. Even with the tension humming beneath the surface, there was something satisfying about watching his people laugh. The noise, the costumes, the warmth, it was the illusion of normalcy. The calm before the hunt.
The Contis arrived just before the guest of honor. Enzo’s mother, Francesca, and her husband, Dario, came dressed as Lady Marian and Robin Hood, while Seven’s mother, Neith, and her fiancé, Rocco, were flawless as Mystique and Gambit.
By the time everyone had arrived, the house was controlled chaos. Music thumped. Drinks flowed. Conversations buzzed. Children shrieked with laughter as they darted between adults, allowed to run wild until the final piece of the night’s game fell into place.
From the top of the grand staircase, Thomas surveyed the ballroom, his kingdom of glittering monsters and beautiful sinners. Fifty-two people. All of them complicit. All of them ready.
Aiden stood beside him, the faintest smile playing on his lips. They looked, Thomas thought, like royalty presiding over a masquerade. Or executioners awaiting their cue.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t have to look to know who it was.
A text from Calliope:
She’s at the gate.
Thomas exhaled slowly. “It’s time,” he murmured.
Aiden’s hand found his, fingers tightening in quiet solidarity. “Let’s do this.”
