Daniel obeyed, and the leader turned the dagger, pressing the blade to his palm in a quick, practiced slice. The young man winced but didn’t flinch as blood welled up and dripped down his wrist.
The leader caught a drop in the goblet, then lifted the cup, swirling it through the crimson liquid before holding it out. “Drink, and be reborn as one of us.”
Daniel hesitated just a fraction of a second, then raised the goblet to his lips and drank. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause, feet stamping, voices rising in a dark chant that echoed off the stone walls.
“Blood given. Brother reborn.”
The next initiate stepped forward after his name was called, and the ritual repeated. My stomach twisted tighter with each one. The rhythmic chanting, the smell of blood and spiced wine, the gold-masked men looking down like gods judging mortals… it was mesmerizing and horrifying all at once.
The leader’s voice rang out once more, commanding the hall. “Now, initiates… be welcomed into the Dionysus Club, and enjoy the first fruits of your success!”
The drums roared back to life. Goblets clashed. Candles flared. The ritual dissolved into celebration, but I could hardly hear it over the blood rushing in my ears.
The girls around me began to descend from the perimeter ledge in a glittering wave of gold. At the same time, black-clad waiters emerged from a service entrance on the other side of the chamber, carrying trays laden with food and drinks.
I forced my legs to move, following the other girls down into the chamber. The air felt thicker here, heavy with incense and the metallic tang of blood still lingering from the ceremony.
I kept my head angled down, my movements slow and deliberate as I wove between clusters of men. Laughter erupted somewhere to my left, and a girl's high-pitched giggle answered it. All around me, the other women were draping themselves over the masked figures, offering whispered promises and soft touches.
I just needed to stay invisible. Blend in. Survive until I could figure out how to get out of this place without attracting attention.
My breath suddenly caught in my throat.
One of the black-masked men had just lowered the hood of his robe, and even in the flickering candlelight, I knew those shoulders. That jawline. The dark ink curling up his neck and disappearing beneath his robe.
Julian.
His mask covered the upper half of his face, but I'd memorized every other detail. The sharp angle of his jaw. The shape of his lips. The way he held himself, coiled tension barely contained. Those eyes, visible through the mask's cutouts, scanning the crowd with predatory awareness.
My heart hammered against my ribs, and I turned slightly, angling my face away, praying he wouldn't look in my direction. My hair was still a slightly lighter shade than usual, because Cherry’s spray hadn’t washed all the way out yet. Plus there was the gold half-mask and the bright red lipstick that I'd usually never wear. So maybe he wouldn't recognize me.
Still, I needed to get the hell out of here. Now.
I took a careful step backward, trying to melt into the shifting crowd of bodies and candlelight. Another step. Almost to the edge of the chamber where the shadows were deepest.
Suddenly, Julian’s gaze locked onto me. Time seemed to fracture as those piercing eyes held mine for one suspended heartbeat, and I was certain he saw straight through the mask, the makeup, the costume. Sawme.
But then he looked away, as if I were nothing more than another faceless girl, and turned to grab a drink.
I released a shaky breath, but before I could move, a figure materialized in front of me. A man in a gold mask, older, his robe hanging open enough to reveal an expensive suit underneath.
“Well, hello there,” he said, his voice thick with entitlement. He reached toward me. “I think you—"
Suddenly Julian stepped directly into his path. The movement was smooth, almost casual, but his broad frame blocked me entirely from the other man's view. He didn't acknowledge me. Didn't even glance back. Just stood there, a wall of muscle and ink between me and the other man.
“Excuse me,” the other man said, irritation creeping into his tone. “I was just—”
Julian interrupted him. “I was hoping to run into you, Rockwell,” he said, his voice that familiar low rumble that sent a dark thrill cascading through my nervous system.Yup.Definitely him. “My father wants to discuss something with you. Something about the lobbying down in DC. Sounded pretty important.”
“Ah. I better go find him, then.”
The man turned away, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
An auburn-haired girl in gold materialized at Julian's elbow a moment later, her fingers trailing up his arm. “Want some company, sir?” she purred.
Julian's response was immediate. “Not tonight.”
The girl pouted but drifted away. Julian still didn’t move. Just stood there like a barrier between me and the rest of thechamber, his back to me as if he'd simply stopped to survey the room while he enjoyed his whiskey.
