The monster’s waltz winnowed the weak from the strong. Unfortunately, Cash was one of the weak. The strings of the violin pinched at his heels, and the heady wheeze of the organ’s pipes urged himon, on, onuntil his heart stuttered in time with it.
Arkady pressed a hand against the small of Cash’s back, fingers spread to claim as much skin as possible, and held firm against the fever of music. If he wanted to, he could probably match the other dancers’ frenzied, desperate pace, but it wouldn’t impress Donna if anyone kept up. That was the least she expected of her guests, to not die of her hospitality.
The point was to see who ignored the pull of stolen humanity as the music pulled it out of their blood and danced to their own beat.
“I forgot that sound you make when I’m inside you,” Arkady murmured, soft and filthy, against his ear. “Thatwhimper.Like I gutted you and you liked it.”
Cash shivered at the brutal immediacy of that image. He could feel the sound in his throat, scratchy and hot, and in the taut flick of pleasure that tightened his ass. One hunger to counter another, and it was one that hadalwaysworked to distract Cash.
He curled one hand around the back of Arkady’s neck and grazed his thumb over the tender spot where his pulse lived. It made him feel better to feel the quick throb of blood under his touch. Arkady looked calm and collected, but the music had as much of an effect on him as it did Cash.
“I don’t recall,” he said primly as he rested his head on Arkady’s shoulder. He waited for the hitch in Arkady’s chest as he got ready to argue. Then he added, “Maybe you can jog my memory later.”
Arkady slid his hand down to cup Cash’s leather-covered ass and squeezed roughly as he tugged him—somehow—closer. The play of lean, long muscles under velvet and leather distracted Cash as Arkady guided them through the muddied steps of the waltz.
“Oh, I’m definitely going to make you whimper,” Arkady promised. He spun them out of the way of a high-stepping Jersey Devil, its head tossed and nostrils red and wet, and finished his promise against Cash’s ear. “And sooner rather than later.”
The ragged breath that Cash sucked in tasted like Arkady. He could feel Arkady’s warmth on his tongue. It didn’t exactly help him focus.
“We’re supposed to be looking for your leak,” he said. “Not—”
He stumbled over what else Arkady might want to look for—on Cash, in Cash—because apparently he either had denial or nothing. Sometimes being too human sucked more than others.
“Pleasure?” Arkady said. His earlier mood had lifted and been replaced by smug good humor. He turned and brushed a kiss over the thin skin on the underside of Cash’s wrist. “Your human is showing, Casper. Any monster worth his salt can keep more than one hunt in play at a time. Especially when the prey in one has already tasted the… hook.”
Cash blushed. The hot wash of color made Arkady chuckle with low, dark appreciation. That or the clash of pink cheeks against the pure red shirt amused him.
“Besides,” Arkady said before Cash could come up with something clever to say, “if you want a good oversight of the wedding guests, where better to get one than here?”
It was a good point. Cash lifted his head enough to glance around. The music throbbed in his head, between his eardrum and his jawbone, as he took in the hall. It was like being in the heart of a kaleidoscope as the jewel-bright colors gyrated around them.
The dancers’ auras flared to the music, stretched up from flesh and bone until they were only tethered along the spine. Nobody with a secret that big would risk the loss of control that came with the waltz. But there were a few who moved against the tune, like Arkady. In the middle of the floor, Yana danced on bloodstained silk slippers with her still-human lover, her smile practiced and set atjustthe right curve to be happy, but not stupidly so. He clung to her, dazed and off-balance from the assault on his senses.
It gave Cash pause for a second as he loosened his grip on Arkady’s shoulder. Was that what he looked like? Out of his depth? Desperate.
“No,” Arkady said.
“What?”
“It’s not the same,” Arkady said as he glanced over at his sister. “You belong.”
It wasn’t clear if he meant Jerome or Yana didn’t. Cash didn’t ask. It was one argument he could dodge.
They turned again, and Cash lost sight of Yana, the flip of the grubby hem of her dress the last thing he saw. Donna sat primly on an ornately carved leather-upholstered seat thatsomehowmanaged to stop an inch short of trying to be a throne, next to a frail hunch of a man in a stained gray robe. She cracked a leg bone open with her nails to scrape out the peppered marrow and offered him half. The hand he extended to take it was thin, gray, and membranous—newly grown. His aura was thick and heavy on his skin, like a layer of slime.
The Worm.
Cash looked away before the Worm saw him. That was the sort of notice that wouldn’t end well for him. Behind them, the few who hadn’t dared the dance floor picked at the platters of banquet food, ignored the servers, and jostled for either attention or anonymity. None of them tugged at Cash’s monster. None of them wanted more than any other monster.
“Nothing,” he said. The frustration of it caught in his throat. He hadn’twantedto come back—not that he’d admitted to himself at least—but now that he was, the old need to prove his worth scratched at his teeth. “If the traitor’s here, I can’t find them.”
Arkady hissed under his breath in frustration. “Damn,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter. We know what the plan is, and as long as we stop your human from exposing us, I can talk Kohary into giving us more time. Wewillfind out what they have planned, and who they are.”
He might. Cash would be gone with the confetti, swept back to his normal life. That was definitely what he wanted, and it didn’t make the back of his throat hurt with salt.
“And what if it’s Donna behind it?” he asked quietly, his voice muffled against Arkady’s chest. “Or Yana.”
“Or me?” Arkady asked.
