I think about Claude’s sad gaze and gentle touch, at odds with his sire’s punishing grip and eerie stare. But Benjamin is right. Claude wasn’t what I wanted in a patron, and whatever dynamic created such tension between him and his sire, it’s better for me to stay away from it.
* * *
The hours blur together as the evening goes on. I fill up a plate at the buffet table, bypassing the champagne fountain and mountains of baked goods to find more vitamin-rich options like meat, spinach, and fruit. I end up giving most of it away to other valentines when I find them delicately snacking on chocolate-covered strawberries and macarons.
“Where are their chaperones?” I huff when Benjamin gentlysteers me away. “That man looked like he was about to pass out, and he was eating pure sugar!”
He leads me to a couch and places a fresh plate into my hands, loaded with the same options I chose for myself. “A lot of agencies consider their work done when they arrive at the ball,” he says. “They don’t chaperone like I do.”
I frown as I bite into a mini beef wellington, too distracted to appreciate the decadent bite of golden pastry and tender meat. “Well, they should.”
He smiles. “I agree. It’s one reason why I opened my agency. To make things safer for hopeful valentines.” He nudges my plate. “Eat up. The night is young.”
A number of vampires approach Benjamin and me to inquire about my blood card. I spend some time with a soft-spoken woman with Celeste’s moon symbol hanging around her neck, and a charming young man with a Camelia rose pinned to his lapel. Yet even as I force a smile and say everything I’m supposed to say, my mind is far away, and my gaze keeps wandering to the crowd around us.
But Claude is gone. He’s no longer blocking my chances at meeting a more suitable patron, and I have no problem filling up the remaining slots on my blood card. It’s exactly what I wanted.
But no other vampire’s bite feels the way his did. None send that delicious shiver up my spine. I’m grateful each time Benjamin steps in to announce they took enough blood.
“It’s for the best,” I murmur to myself, sitting with my eyes closed as Benjamin heals my wrist for the last time. I’m a little lightheaded after this last bloodletting, but I haven’t fainted, which is more than I can say for a number of other humans who had to be carried out of the ballroom.
“What is?”
I was talking to myself, but I didn’t account for vampires and their heightened senses. “Oh, um. That I didn’t find a patron, I mean.”
Benjamin huffs a laugh. “What makes you think you didn’t?”
I open my eyes and blink at him, perplexed. “Nobody asked.”
“That’s normal. You’ll receive official offers tomorrow evening, after the vampires get approval from their courts.”
“Oh.” My brow furrows. “I didn’t realize courts were involved in the process.”
“A valentine contract binds them to protect you, in your patron’s name, so yes.”
There’s still hope… but I’m afraid to let myself feel it. “None of them seemed to particularly like me, though.” Except for Claude. That goes unspoken.
“I don’t think you were paying attention,” Benjamin says, his tone equal parts amused and chastising. “It seemed like your mind was on something else. Or… someone else?” He arches a brow.
A flush heats my face. “I don’t know what you mean.” I take off my glasses and busy myself cleaning them. “Well, it’s over now, right? At least I didn’t have to embarrass myself on the dance floor.”
“Oh, I’m not letting you off that easy.” Benjamin stands. When I put my glasses back on, he sharpens into focus, one hand extended toward me. “You can’t leave your first ball without at least one dance.”
I hesitate. “Youknowwhat my dancing looks like…”
“Trust me, I’ve seen worse. Will you do me the honor?”
My hand hovers over his before I place it in his grasp. Despite my reservations, I can’t help but smile as he lifts me to my feet and pulls me to the dance floor. I don’t do any better than I did in training, but Benjamin leads me effortlessly in a way that makes me feel elegant nonetheless. Soon, the way he spins and dips mehas me laughing and breathless, grateful for his steady, friendly presence among all of the tumult tonight.
Still, as the music dies away, I find myself searching the crowd for a pair of sad blue eyes.
Chapter Nine
Iwake the evening after the ball, groggy and confused by my still-new sleep schedule, with my feet aching from the long night. As I shuffle out to the parlor in slippers, I curse the existence of high heels.
“Good evening,” Benjamin says as I drag myself in. He’s sitting on the chaise with Lissa, their knees touching, and they look suspiciously cozy and disgustingly awake.
I grunt, pouring myself a cup of coffee, and collapse into a chair. I’m aware I look like a disaster in my sweatpants and messy bun, but I don’t care.
