“Oh, I can do that,” the woman replied. Her voice had a strange melodic quality to it, like ice breaking upon concrete, but in a musically gifted way.
So Zack was whisked back out to the dance floor by his strange new partner. The other dancers gave them a wider berth. She had a grace that Zack found easy to match, and she gave a delighted laugh as they swept out toward the center of the floor.
When their song ended, she put a long finger under Zack’s chin and tilted his head farther up. Though he was still on his feet, he felt like he’d been drawn up onto his tiptoes. Her smile grew wider. “Oh,” she breathed, nearly a moan, “oh, you are simply magnificent. I can’t wait to see what you become. Do remember to call on me.”
She kissed his forehead—or shemighthave kissed his forehead. The moment was so quick, like seeing a figure in the corner of one’s eye and then turning to find a shadow. Before Zack could make sense of the sensation, she was across the dance floor, picking out her next partner.
Luckily, Takashi stepped in next. He brought Zack closer to the edge of the dancing rather than the center. He teased, “You are allowed to say no to people.”
“I think saying no to a polite request from a fey is a good way to get cursed,” Zack said.
“Especially her,” Takashi replied. “I meant, going forward, that you don’t have to dance with everyone.”
“I don’t know. Josefina spent hours teaching me how to do this. And I’m kind of having fun. Even with my last partner.”
Takashi raised an eyebrow. “Do you know who that was?”
“Uh, an archfey?”
“Lady Belladonna of the Chicago Court of Shadows,” Takashi said. “So not justanarchfey, but one ofthearchfey of the city.”
In a hurried whisper, Zack said, “She told me to call on her.”
“What?”
“Yeah. That’s weird, right?”
“It could be good. Very good for us.”
Zack wanted to ask how, but the music came to an abrupt stop. Though the announcer had been continuing to introduce guests, the whole of the party seemed to turn to witness the newest arrivals.
“Seamus, Terror of the Isles, Devil Pirate of the Seven Seas, Dread Noble of the Countryside, Architect of the Shadowborn Rail, Patron of the City’s Rebirth, and Master of the Great Lakes Coven,” the announcer proclaimed. “His partner of centuries, Anton, Warlock of the Midnight Hour, Captain of the Great Lakes Coven. And their collection.”
A round of applause complimented Seamus and Anton as they stepped into the party. Seamus’s tux was a midnight black that seemed to absorb light. Anton wore a bloodred tux with a brilliant white shirt. They’d brought eight mortals with them; Vincent was at the front of the well-dressed group coming in behind Seamus and Anton. Each one was decked out in a different color so that the group of them looked like a clustered rainbow.
A ripple flowed through the party. The ice statues had left the room cooler, but Seamus’s arrival chilled conversations to whispers. As the music began anew, the whispers became murmurs and recovered a measure of their earlier delight.
“Shall we continue?” Takashi asked.
“Yeah,” Zack said.
They danced. Falling into the fun of it, Zack found keeping his balance and poise was second nature. All too soon, the song was over.
“Maybe another one?” Zack asked.
“I was hoping for a turn,” Roger said smoothly.
Zack spun to face him.
After having the opportunity to gaze upon him for months, Roger should have been ordinary for Zack to behold. Yet seeing his smile carved into Zack’s heart like he’d never looked upon him before while tracing familiar patterns in his soul. Roger had tied his raven-black hair into a low ponytail, but the simplicity accentuated his beauty rather than detracted. The earring with its four tiny sapphires was new; the roguish quality it lent him wasn’t. When Roger had said his tux would be silver, Zack thought he’d stand out. Instead, Roger seemed to be the living embodiment of the party—handsome, stylish, ethereal, and yet entirely real.
Roger offered his hand, and Zack took it without breaking eye contact. The swell of violins proceeded a waltz, and Roger guided Zack through the first few steps before taking bolder ones. Soon, they were gliding. Zack could feel the touch of the floor, but only briefly. He wouldn’t look down; he didn’t want to break the magic if they were somehow floating.
A bracing cold swept across the dance floor, and Zack fought the instinctual urge to look behind him. Instead, he measured that aura, felt the press of the too-familiar wintery blast. As he and Roger naturally turned with the movement of their dance, he caught sight of Seamus dancing with Vincent. Like they had for Lady Belladonna, the others started to clear a bubble of space around Seamus. And Seamus was pressing that bubble ever closer to where Roger and Zack were dancing.
Roger pressed his cheek to Zack’s, his words a quick tumble. “Are you comfortable showing off?”
“Definitely.”
