I smile wryly. “Maybe?” I mumble. “I don’t know, it’s kinda stupid?—”
“I told you not to call my girlfriend stupid,” he growls.
I giggle. “Maybe notlead. That sounds like a pain.”
“Itreallyis,” he groans.
“But maybehelpingleadership? Like advising?” I roll my eyes. “Or, you know, just head ballerina. I could dance at Syndicate parties,” I say dryly.
Vaughn smiles, dragging his thumb just under my lower lip. “You’re a truly gifted dancer, princess,” he murmurs. “But I know you’re capable ofmanyother things, too.”
Heat and happiness ripple through my body as I press my lips to his.
38
EVELINA
Three days later,I’m back at Blackbriar Hall, standing in the same ballroom with the glass ceiling as the night of the first initiation.
The night he chased me through the graveyard and fucked me for the first time.
I was so nervous that night. I’m nervous tonight, too, but it’s not the same.
I’mnot the same.
I don’t just mean because of the changes to my sex life—i.e., going fromnot having oneto participating eagerly in things that verge on insanity.
I’ve changed. I’ve found strength and a spine I didn’t realize I had. I’ve found a power in me that I hid from before.
Vaughn might be the catalyst. But a lot of these changes are because ofme.
I’m proud of that.
I turn to glance at the figure standing next to me in the dim, candlelit hall, my eyes shadowed by the mask covering the top half of my face. She grins nervously, her own green eyes glinting as she looks at me, shivering nervously.
Gabriella and I arewayoverdue for a catch-up. And even though it’s supposed to be a secret, I’m sure that her Adept is Carson King. I havequestions, for sure…
But now isn’t the time.
Tonight, the dais at the head of the room has seven black padded tables on it, each with a small table full of bottles and instruments next to it.
Tattoo stations.
I swallow nervously.
This is really happening.
A bell chimes, and the room goes still. A door to the side of the dais opens, and that same man in red robes and a Bauta mask steps out, staff in hand.
“Congratulations to you all,” the man announces quietly. “You have proven yourselves willing to give yourselves over to this ancient brotherhood and been deemed worthy. From tonight, you will wear that worth on your skin.”
Vaughn’s already explained to me that there’s going to be a celebration later. But this moment, where each Acolyte takes that final step and pledges fealty to the Syndicate with proof of that pledge inked on their body, is a somber one.
I swallow and glance up at the shadowy second-floor landing that rings the hall. I can’t see him, but I know Vaughn is up there.
I canfeelhim looking back at me, and it sparks a strength inside me.
“We will begin,” the man intones solemnly. “Hamza Zayd. Approach the dais and summon your Acolyte to lifelong service.”
