“God, it’s like trying to give a cat a bath. Drink this, and if you’re still freaking out I have a couple of blunts in my dress.”
“Where the hell did you put them? I can see your freaking belly button.”
“Pockets,” she whispers gleefully, slipping her hands into the tulle skirt of her dress.
“Evie!” Tori calls out, and the crowd parts to reveal her talking animatedly with two other women who turn when they spot us. “Vanna! Nikki! You guys lookbeautiful,” she gasps, pulling them into a group hug while Brynne and I stand back. I down my drink—bubbly champagne that tastes so good it’s ruined me for any other kind—and grab another off a nearby server.
“Guys, you remember Brynne? And this is Nyx.” She gestures to us. Brynne waves her fingers and I pull my hood back just enough for them to actually see my face. “Nyx, these are our older sisters, Vanna and Nikki.”
Their polite smiles don’t reach their eyes. “You’re the one the Council picked up?” Vanna asks bluntly as we appraise each other. Her light blue eyes contrast harshly with her blonde hair that’s shaved on one side, revealing a silver spiked ear cuff. The shoulders of her cream-colored suit are embellished with silver epaulettes, and when she turns to hear whatever Nikki whispers, I see embellished angel wings that run down the back. Nikki’s wearing a sheer, hooded, glittering, white dress with a train that flows out behind her like waves on the shore and her long, tousled blonde braids cascade down her chest which has been dusted with some type of pearlescent powder.
Something about their scrutiny makes my spine stiffen. “Yep. Good times,” I say in a deadpan tone and Evie snickers.
“She’s the one I helped Brandt with a couple weeks ago.” Vanna nods in understanding, but it’s Nikki who responds next, incredulous.
“Did you actually channel? I thought Evie might be exaggerating like she usually does?—”
“Hey!”
“—but then Felicity was bitching about it to anyone who would listen.”
“Has it happened again?” Vanna asks before I can respond.
With a side glance to Tori—because this is starting to feel awfully reminiscent of when she introduced me to her friends—I shake my head and lie. “Just the once.” She hums, eyes never leaving mine even as she sips her drink, and a shiver runs down my spine from the unsettling impression she knows I’m hiding the truth.
“Will you knock it off?” Tori interjects. “It’s a party, not an interrogation.”
Nikki looks me up and down, “Are you going to the bonfire later? You might enjoy being around your own kind.”
My eyebrow crooks. “My own kind?”
She smiles, but it still doesn’t reach her eyes. “Other witches, since you don’t have a coven.”
Brynne comes to my rescue with another glass that she shoves into my hand. “Of course! It’s her first Samhain. Don’t worry, we’ll show you how to properly celebrate.” She says as I down whatever’s in my glass. When I open my eyes again, it’s to see the Heirs—Roth leading the way with Thane at his side while Killian and Luther bring up the rear—striding into the Great Hall like they own the place, and well…fuck. I guess they basically do. The crowd parts for them with a mixture of fear and adoration, but that’s not why my chest tightens.
I’m relieved to see Thane looking better than he did the last time I saw him. In his suit, he looks more like the version I met by the lake—hardened and cold. Sharp. The top button of his white shirt is undone, revealing pale skin decorated with dark tattoos crawling up his throat. Roth, in contrast, is a hunter stalking whatever unlucky prey didn’t flee quickly enough. His black eyes sweep the expansive room, decisive and calculating, and I’m grateful the hood of my cape hides my face—that he can’t see me doing the same to them. Killian’s practically bouncing as he talks at Luther, who looks bored already.
I turn my back on them and listen in from the edge of the group as the four Hektreia sisters bicker and squabble about God knows what, and Brynne eagerly follows the volleyed insults and barbs like a tennis match. I’m halfway through my fourth glass of champagne when my phone vibrates from where I’ve stashed it in a hidden pocket of the cape Maeve sewed in.
Ramsey Mondragon
ready to see something cool?
I look up, trying to spot him. I can’t imagine he’s in some feathered abomination like what some of the other men have chosen as costumes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just waltzed in wearing a pair of comfy sweatpants that I’d be immediately jealous of. As beautiful as this dress is, I would really prefer my jeans and high tops.
“Holy shit,” Evie gasps, and I turn to follow her gaze as the others catch on.
“What is it?” I ask, but their eyes are glued to the monstrous figure ducking through the massive doors to the Great Hall. With every step, more people scatter until I can finally see what’s got everyone’s panties in a twist.
“Have you ever seen a partial shift like that before?” Tori asks Vanna, who shakes her head.
“What’s a—” I begin to ask, but then the shadows move, and my blood chills. It’s Ramsey, I think. Except now he has horns. And claws. Andwings. He stops suddenly and scents the air, inhaling deeply before turning those slitted eyes on me. My heart begins to race as he makes his way towards us, until at last he’s within arms reach. And then I blurt out the first thought that crosses my mind as the world holds its breath.
“My, what big teeth you have.”
His deep growl makes those around us take a step back, but I only smile when a hint of said teeth flashes in the light.
“All the better to eat you with, my dear,” he growls, his breath coming out in a wave of hot smoke. I cover my mouth to stop the laugh that threatens to escape when the now-familiar voice of his dragon responds, but the collective gasp coming from every corner of the room breaks my composure.
