Back at the bus,the air is thick with anticipation. Revelin and Tiernan are back, flipping through the pages of the ancient book we found in the cave, their brows furrowed in concentration. We fill them in on the latest developments, and the atmosphere tightens like a coiled spring. I don’t think they expected us to do more than shop, and definitely not to come back with the news that another event we’re bound to attend could be attacked.
Everywhere I go, trouble follows like I have a magnet in my ass.
“It’s the full moon, a crowded event, and we might have a creature out for blood,” Revelin says, running a hand through his hair. “Not exactly the event my PR team thought this would be when we agreed to it.”
“Excitement is part of your job description,” Tiernan says with a shrug, standing up to stretch his long limbs. “Obviously, this isn’t the kind we’d prefer, but if we’re careful, we should be able to navigate it.”
I feel a strange cocktail of thrill and dread churning inside me. Tonight’s gala is shaping up to be more than just an opportunity for the press to see us bedazzled in finery—it’s an appearance where any step could be a dance with danger. When we get home, I’m probably not going to ever complain about being bored again.
I’ll take boredom over this bullshit every day of the week.
“We need to get ready,” I declare, catching my reflection in the mirror. The person looking back seems so different from the one who started this journey. I’m more determined, but I’m also a lot more open to the rapidly changing atmosphere of Revelin’s world. Even in the short two-week period since we left, I’ve grown as a person—Fer would be so proud.
Moving to the racks left by his team yesterday, our outfits are chosen with care, each piece a balance between elegance and practicality. Hidden pockets for weapons and charms, fabrics that won’t hinder movement, and colors that blend with shadows. I’m much more comfortable in the sleek slacks and corset top than I was in the dress, and the deep shades we’re all sporting may not fit with the Harvest Court theme, but it makes the gothy rocker inside of me giddy.
Not to mention how goddamn hot the guys look in black and dark jewel tones, even Revelin.
Dezi walks around us, scrutinizing everyone. “This will do. I’m not worried that anyone will have trouble protecting themselves if we are forced to fight.”
I snort, turning to kick at him with the high, chunky heeled boot. “This shit is right up my alley and I need to thank those costumers. They took stuff from the boutique and modified it, right?”
Revelin nods as he adjusts his fishnet gloves and cuffs, then picks up his guitar case. “Sure did. While I promised to buy local, I never promised my people wouldn’t alter things to be more… us.”
“Praise the fucking Queen,” I mutter as the others finish dressing. “Because this is the most comfortable I’ve been except when we wander during the day.”
“We have to keep our wits about us,” Khol murmurs as he adjusts the cuff of his shirt, hiding a blade underneath. “Watch every single piece of food and every drink for tampering. Leave nothing and don’t be the first person to take anything off of a tray.”
“Always do,” I reply, my fingers brushing over the hilt of a dagger discreetly strapped to the small of my back. “But then, I’m a woman and we always have to do that.”
Dezi shakes his head. “Never at my club. It’s grounds for more than excommunication.”
I grin a little, tilting my head. “A vampire with morals—you’re like the anti-hero on a teen TV show.” He gives me a severe glare, and I laugh as the others cover snickers with their hands.
“Time to go,” Dezi announces, and we step out into the twilight, the bus door closing behind us with a soft thud.
The roadto the mayor’s mansion stretches out, and I can’t help but wonder what awaits us there. My heart races, ready for whatever the night will bring as the cobblestones clack beneath our boots. We stride with purpose, pausing when we approach the vast house. It looms ahead like a grand stage set for tonight’s drama. Its windows punctuate the gathering dusk, a beacon of opulence amid whispers of darkness.
Every time I soften a little, rich motherfuckers like this make me agree with the pub owner’s wife even more.
“Remember… eyes sharp, everyone,” Revelin murmurs, his tone low but laced with an authority that belies his usual playful demeanor. His fingers tap a silent rhythm on the guitar case he carries—no ordinary instrument inside, but a disguise for the sword Dezi got for him before the forest trip.
That was a last-minute addition, but since it seems natural for him to have his guitar, Tiernan thought it would be a good backup.
Tiernan nods beside him, the faint glow of his eyes scanning the area, always alert. His hand rests casually at the small of my back, but I can feel the tension in his frame. It’s comforting, I admit to myself, having these them all by my side—each embodies strength in their own right without making me feel overpowered.
“Everyone has their cuffs and their hidden weapons. You’re all ready to use them if need be?” Dezi asks, glancing back at me. His eyes hold a trace of concern, the protective streak never quite at rest.
“Of course,” I reply, tapping my pocket where small, enchanted objects are tucked inside the fabric. They’re warm against my skin, little pulsing hearts ready to spring to my defense. Revelin helped me put the spells on them, so I feel confident they’ll work if I need them to.
But I prefer the steel at my back and ankle, plus tucked in the smooth up-do I put my hair in.
Khol’s presence is a quiet force beside me, his gaze flickering over the scene with calculated interest. He doesn’t speak, but the set of his jaw tells me all I need to know—he’s ready for whatever comes our way. His love for violence as an outlet echoes mine, which means the minute I unleash, he’ll be there within seconds.
We reach the gates of the mansion, and the air thrums with anticipation. The night is ours to claim or to curse. With each step, our shadows stretch longer, merging into one as we cross the threshold. The lawn is covered in fairy lights, though I guess here, they’re just light. I chuckle to myself and Rev arches his brow, but I wave him off. We need to focus on what’s coming when we get to the house.
Mayor Knobbleton and his staff are neck deep in the seedy underside of this town, and it’s unlikely a demon assassin would runaround without him and the other fat cats knowing. Who knows if the other wealthy people are involved, but I highly doubt that an attack by some weird demon creature will be a precision event. There will be collateral damage if this actually goes down, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“Are you ready, witchling?” Dezi asks softly when we finally stop at the steps to their verandah.
