All around the dance floor, eyelids were lowering and discussions were slowing or stopping altogether. Bunny began circulating the room, encouraging people to keep dancing or playing music or whatever. The noise level dropped, adding an eeriness to the stilted movements of the glassy-eyed attendees.
Mitch claimed that Tasia was smart. But she didn’t know what to do and had never felt stupider in her life. Why couldn’t she think when it mattered most?!
Grandmother, in all her evil glory, chose then to make her entrance. Her appearance was relatively dramatic, as the door was flung open before her. But it was wasted on the somnolent villagers. Dino stood at her back, staring dully.
A loud sigh pulled Tasia’s gaze away from the slaver. Bunny was twirling her hair and making eyes at Dino. That explained the girl’s willingness to play traitor, even to the point of betraying her father. The dangerous thug didn’t react when his eyes slid over Bunny, and Tasia almost felt pity for the young woman. Almost.
Grandmother took a moment to survey her soon-to-be domain. Tasia noticed that she no longer bothered with the cane. Her straight back and shrewd expression erased years. She now looked closer to sixty than ninety.
Mitch hadnotthrown Barone across the room. A feat that took great effort on his part.
For some reason, the mayor felt the need to keep a physical hold of his “guard.” With the other man’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, Mitch couldn’t ditch his employer to help Tasia. After she blocked the door to the cellar, he wasn’t sure how to help, but he wanted to be by her side regardless.
In the end, things happened too quickly for him to respond. Cider was passed out—to everyone but him—and the villagers started reacting to the filemu that Mitch now understood was in the drink. That must have been what Tasia had realized as they were rushing over.
Barone didn’t seem like the type to be in on the slave scheme, but Mitch decided to ask anyway when he saw how the others were affected. He theorized that the suggestibility of the filemu should apply to revealing secrets, as well.
“Hey, Barone,” Mitch drawled. “Know anything about this slavery plot? Or Grandmother?”
The mayor’s frown would have been comical in another scenario. He shook his head and dragged out his words. “No. No, slavery is bad. Grandmother is bad, too.” He swung his head around to face Mitch, invading his space. “She lives too close to . . .him.”
Mitch was pretty sure that “him” was the big guy in the next town over who had a problem with Barone.
The mayor proved very amenable to spilling his guts and also admitted that he had messed up, big-time. “Nowhewants me to pay it back. But I don’t have that money anymore!”
Mitch grunted.
“He’sgoing to come for retribution, I just know it! Maybe even during this dance.” Barone patted Mitch’s chest. “That’s why I have to keep you close. Verrrrrry close.Heshould be satisfied if you die protecting me. He likes death.”
Mitch’s opinion of the man sank even lower. He peeled off the offending hand and parked his former employer in a corner.
Mitch was making his way around the edge of the room when Granny entered with a bang. People continued to mill about or dance, so he ducked his head and aimed for Tasia. While passing one of the large windows and blocking the interior light reflecting on the glass, he thought he saw movement in the trees. It was too much to hope that the soldiers were here already, so he erred on the side of caution and assumed that Granny had brought more thugs with her.
Three windows lay between him and Tasia when Granny came to a decision and pulled out her feeble-old-lady routine. She immediately hunched and clung to the giant escorting her. He helped her over to the senior citizen corral and into a chair.
Mitch paused. He preferred to be a man of action in a crisis, but he didn’t know what his action should be here. Technically, Granny and her pet thug weren’t doing anything wrong. And the villagers had already been drugged. There was nothing to stop.
Deciding his best course was to protect Tasia, he completed the stealthy journey to her side. Tasia seized his hand for a moment, then followed him toward the densest bit of crowd within range. They did their best to blend in.
“What is she waiting for?” Tasia whispered in his ear.
He looked down and frowned at her red cape. She didn’t object when he untied the ribbon at her neck and slid it off her shoulders. When he looked for somewhere to stash the distinctive article, she helpfully pointed under a small table near the edge of the room.
As he sidled over to it, Tasia stuck to him like glue. Adorable glue. He shouldn’t be noticing things like the cute little wrinkle of concentration scrunching her nose, but he did.
After ditching the red, Mitch saw that they were closer to some of the dancers. He pulled Tasia into his arms, resting one hand on her hip and holding her hand in the other. Their dancewas mostly a gentle swaying in place. And they looked at their adversary the whole time instead of each other.
“Is she waiting for a cue?” Tasia wondered. She managed to be quieter than her usual efforts, and the fading noise level hid the rest.
Mitch used the convenience of their positions to rest his jaw against her temple. “I’m not sure. I think she has thugs outside the hall.”
Tasia stiffened but didn’t stop swaying with him. She used their joined hands to point to a young lady in a green dress trying too hard to be casual as she worked her way toward Granny and the thug. “That’s Bunny. I’m certain she’s the inside man.”
“No one else is undrugged,” he agreed.
By then, pretty much all of the conversation had stopped. The loudest things in the building were the snores coming out of a petite and frail-looking elderly woman, which could be heard over the slow and no-longer-in-sync music. Mitch thought the volume might be bothering Granny, because the hag was grimacing at the snorer.
“I wonder—”
