She looped her arm through Alan’s as they reached the edge of the dance floor. They stood wedged between a golden-feathered phoenix and a red wolf.
“We are here, of course, to celebrate. Every remaining member of the witch army in Boston has been hunted down and slaughtered. That mission, at least, has been accomplished.” The senator’s guests cheered, and he lifted his glass. “But we are also here to raise money for a worthy cause. With your help, Americans for the Sanguine Brotherhood will help to keep America safe from the threat of witchcraft. There are more evil armies coming. And with the help of my dear wife Vera…” He thrust out a hand.
The crowd turned to look at Mrs. Ranulf, walking gingerly along the path in a white ball gown. Ivory angel wings arched from her back, and she wore a platinum Georgian-era wig, the curls piled high on her head, glittering with crystals. A smooth, alabaster mask covered the top of her face.
“With my wife’s help,” the senator continued, “I believe we have recruited some new members to our cause. Tonight, we celebrate not only the recent victory, but the sanguine reawakening!”
At the last word, a chill rippled over Fiona’s skin. Reawakening?
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Fiona
Alan held out his hand to Fiona as the string quartet launched into a familiar waltz—Strauss, maybe. She clasped his hand, and he guided her across the dance floor with an unexpected grace, his arms outstretched. Her bare feet padded over the tiles. While they twirled, she caught sight of Munroe’s pale hand pulling Tobias as close as she could.
Alan glanced over Fiona’s shoulder. “Mrs. Ranulf is halfway through her drink,” he whispered. “When she’s finished, you should grab another to hand to her. I’ll get the next round.”
“I’m on it. How did you learn to waltz?”
“My mom made me take ballroom dancing in middle school.”
“Do you know what this piece is called? It’s beautiful.”
He cocked his head. “You know, I think it’s Viennese Blood.”
She shuddered. “Of course.”
A heavy scent of roses hung in the damp air, mingling with the smell of decaying plants by the river’s edge. Fiona tilted back her head, glancing at the colored lanterns that dangled from the trees.
Alan spun her, and she caught another view of Mrs. Ranulf. Her glass was empty. “Okay, she chugged that one down. Time to find her another.” She pulled away from her dance partner, glancing back at Tobias. He glided across the dance floor with a beaming Munroe. The ice princess was whispering something to him, though his eyes were elsewhere—scanning the river as though he were waiting for someone to roll up in a boat.
Mrs. Ranulf stood by the edge of the dance floor, engaged in a lively discussion with a man dressed as a fox. The blond server wandered toward Fiona, who grabbed two glasses of a pink cocktail. Mrs. Ranulf’s favorite.
She sidled up to the fox and the angel, taking a sniff of the drink. It smelled sweet, fruity—and very strong. Unless Mrs. Ranulf has the tolerance of a sailor, a few of these should do the trick.
When she saw Fiona’s dress, Mrs. Ranulf’s fingers flew to her lips. “Fiona! What a resourceful girl you are. If I’d known such a beautiful dress lay in our basement, I’d have snatched it up myself.”
Fiona grinned broadly. “You couldn’t possibly look any more divine than you already do.”
Mrs. Ranulf’s chest swelled, and she smiled before a frown creased her brow. “Are those alcoholic beverages?”
Fiona feigned embarrassment—a quick laugh and a downward gaze. “Oh. Do these have alcohol? No one told me.”
Her pale eyes glimmering, Mrs. Ranulf plucked the drinks out of Fiona’s hands. “I’ll take those, Miss Forzese.” Her eyes flicked to the fox. “I don’t normally indulge, but someone has to keep these young people out of trouble.”
Fiona eyed the silver chain around Mrs. Ranulf’s neck. The key was nestled in her cleavage. “Well, I guess I’ll get back to the waltz.” She nodded, a smile plastered on her face, and turned back to the dance floor.
Alan was no longer there, but among the whirling birds, butterflies, and woodland creatures, fire and ice still glided across the dance floor. Fiona’s stomach fluttered. How does Tobias know how to move so gracefully? There’s no way he took ballroom dancing in Maremount. The pair danced closer to the edge of the dance floor, Tobias’s movements both fluid and exact. Munroe’s eyes glowed, but Tobias’s darted around, scanning the trees and the sky—searching for something. He’s waiting for something to happen.
Munroe shot Fiona a victorious look before they whirled away again into the menagerie of dancers. A breeze chilled Fiona’s bare back. She felt a pang of emptiness, missing her best friend.