A warm hand brushed her skin. A dark-haired man with a gold mask—beaked, like a bird’s—stepped in front of her. He bowed, holding out his hand. “Care to dance?”
She should say no. She was on a mission, after all. But Mrs. Ranulf was loaded up with two cocktails, and Tobias seemed to be enjoying himself with Munroe. Oh, why not. She grasped his hand, stepping onto the dance floor. His face was completely obscured by the mask, but there was something appealing about his athletic frame. She had the feeling he was younger than most of the guests.
He slipped an arm around her back, and they joined the dancers, whirling through the crowd like eddies in a river.
She draped her hand over his shoulder. “Are you some sort of bird?”
“A plague doctor, actually. They wore these to keep out the lethal miasma and the stench of death.” The mask muffled his voice.
“It’s very pretty for something associated with the stench of death. Pretty and creepy.”
“Some would say that suits me perfectly.”
As they spun in a blur of color and lights, she thought of the twirling figurines in a music box she’d once owned.
He leaned into her. “Do you always linger on the edges of dance floors?”
“I’m not usually at this sort of party.”
“Neither am I, to tell the truth.” His fingers were soft against the bare skin on her back. “I’m usually engaged in more solitary pursuits.”
A dirty thought flickered through Fiona’s mind, but she resisted the temptation to voice it. “Like what?”
His hand rested lightly on her back, but his grip on her hand was firm. “You could say I’m the creative type.”
“And you’re here to support the Sanguine Brotherhood.”
“Not at all. I’ve had a devastating day, and I’m just here for the beautiful women and the drinks to cheer myself up. I’m secure enough in my masculinity to drink a pink cocktail.”
She smiled before a horrible thought churned her stomach. “They’re not made of blood, are they?”
He threw back his head and laughed, a throaty chuckle. “No. I think they’re called strawberry-tinis.”
“You must be very sure of yourself to drink something called a strawberry-tini.”
“I’m not going to pass up a good thing when I see it.”
She had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about the drinks. There was something oddly familiar about him. Comfortable too, his easy manner so different from Tobias’s caginess.
For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Tobias over his shoulder. He wasn’t dancing anymore. He was just—glaring. Jealous, probably. Serves him right.
Another twirl, and she caught a glimpse of Alan standing by the edge of the dance floor. He had something metallic gleaming in his hand and a smile on his lips. He has the key. Her mind suddenly sharpened. It was time to find Mariana.
“I have to go,” she said breathlessly.
“So soon?” The stranger was reluctant to release her hand as she pulled away. But before she had the chance to say another word, someone ripped off the plague mask from behind. The deep blue eyes staring into Fiona’s were at once haunting and terrifying. Jack.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Tobias
Tobias flung Jack’s mask to the side. For a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt when he caught a glimpse of Fiona’s horrified face. But the guilt was quickly replaced by a molten rage that ignited his limbs with an otherworldly power. His lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl, and he gripped the athame in his hand.
Jack turned to him with a calm smile, black curls unruffled. His peaceful expression only inflamed Tobias’s anger.
Jack’s eyes darted to the athame. “So that’s where that went. You know, I’ve been looking it that all over.”
Heat roiled beneath Tobias’s skin. The goddess took hold of his body. Munroe was shouting something behind him, but it was as though her voice was underwater. I need to move the crowd away before my wrath incinerates them all.
He lifted the athame, chanting a barrier spell to repel the guests, and as they stumbled back, he arced it around his body. Flames erupted around him, enclosing him in a burning circle with Jack. Somewhere in the distance, Mrs. Ranulf shrieked. Let her scream. He’d taken the red dust and the chalice pendants from the guards hours ago. Pocket-picking was an easy enough task with the goddess’s grace flowing through his body.
In the circle of flames, he stared into the face of the man who’d burned his city—the man who’d tortured his neighbors, who’d starved Eden and left her broken body to rot in the square. His features were pretty as a courtesan’s, but Tobias could see the gray-veined spirit of death lurking beneath his porcelain skin.
There was no alarm in Jack’s blue eyes—just cool amusement.