“You did quite well, I think.” He winked at me, and the tips of my ears grew hot.
We followed the crowd down a long hall until we hit a wide foyer with a large winding staircase at one side and pair of double doors open to the ballroom on the other.
When I stepped through the doors, I sucked in a breath. I’d never seen a more beautiful room. The walls were covered with a lush, pale-golden tapestry, the swirling lines of the fabric mirroring the design of the building. The ceiling wasn’t vaulted, but it made up for the lack in black tiles dotted with tiny white lights, giving the illusion of a star-filled sky. Candles and crystal vases adorned the tables that were set up sporadically throughout the room, and the air smelled sweet, fragrant from the white roses that decorated the space.
There was a small orchestra playing softly in the corner, and the wide dance floor was already spotted with a handful of couples spinning across the floor.
When the room was nearly full, the conductor silenced the orchestra. Almost at once, the room grew silent in anticipation. The whole atmosphere of the room had shifted, like a drop in temperature. I blew out a breath, half expecting to see it as a puff of frozen air.
There was a slight commotion as one pair of double doors opened grandly. Standing on my tiptoes, I craned my neck to see what was happening, but my view was blocked by a group of men in tuxedos.
Then I saw him.
“The Master.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
My heightened nerves prickled in the base of my spine, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears.
He doesn’t look a day older than I am, I thought to myself with a mixture of awe and confusion. He looked exactly the way he had in Josephine’s visions. I knew Supernaturals had a longer life span, yet I still half expected to see a stooped old man, not the strong, youthful man in front of me.
His slick-back hair was black, and his tawny face was sharp with angles. His gray eyes were cold and unfeeling. It was a cruel face—though an admittedly handsome one—and though he was the host, the Master seemed to have no notion of warmly greeting his guests. He made his way from the far end of the ballroom, wearing a crisp black suit. His shirt, however, was blood red.
Uncertainty, fear, and nervous anticipation seemed to hang in the air, and it was as if the whole room held in a collective breath as he made his way to a plush, high-backed chair placed in the front of the room. When he was seated, he waved a hand and sneered at the crowd. “Dance.”
That single word seemed to reverberate throughout the room, and the crowd shifted so fast it was as if the word he’d uttered was “stampede.”
Before I had time to get out of the way, I was engulfed by a crowd of couples, practically running to take their place on the polished floor.
Behind me, Maggie hissed my name. I reached for her, but my fingertips met nothing but air as I was shoved into an open spot on the dance floor.
The strain of music floated through the air, and I glanced around trying to find a way off the floor that wouldn’t draw much attention. There didn’t seem to be an easy escape route. The Master’s face was trained on the sea of couples, his roving eyes scrutinizing each one.
I couldn’t move. My heart was hammering in my chest; I was certain those around me could hear it over the music.
As the couples began to move, a tall figure glided in front of me, his hand extended. The familiar blue eyes immediately slowed my heart.
“Ty,” I breathed, placing my hand in his.
His face was serious as he draped the other arm around my waist, pulling me close.
“I can’t dance,” I whispered, as panic of a different kind washed over me.
“I’ve got you,” Ty whispered back, his voice husky in my ear. “Just look at me.”
His words wrapped around me, his fingertips gentle against my skin. “I’ve got you,” he whispered again, his words as soft and as warm as a caress. He led me backward, one slow step at a time, and we began to glide across the floor in the gentle rhythm of the music.
We didn’t speak, didn’t smile, but as he pulled me closer, his deep voice humming along to the melody, I was floating.
The music swelled, and we moved together, two leaves twirling in an autumn wind, while the rest of the world melted away. There was nothing but the beating of both our hearts.
“Lainey,” Ty whispered, as the music began to slow. His breathing was uneven, and his eyes were blazing. He pressed his forehead against mine and pulled me closer. I couldn’t speak; I was lost in the sea blue of his eyes, so full of emotion I couldn’t name it.
Then he pressed his lips against mine, and something within me ignited, burning through me—something new, forever forged in the flames.
When the sound of applause shattered the stillness around us, we broke apart, both of us breathless.
We stared at each other, frozen in place, as new couples were moving onto the dance floor to replace those returning to their seats.
“We should probably head back,” I whispered.
Ty nodded and tore his eyes away from my face. He reached for my hand, and I saw his shoulders rise with an inaudible sigh.
I led him off the dance floor to where Serena and Maggie were waiting, seated inside a small, dark alcove.
My face was hot as I sat down beside Maggie. It was strange seeing my own face, but the smirk it wore was entirely Maggie.
“What?” I asked.
“That wasn’t part of the plan,” she said, grinning.
My cheeks burned, and I swatted at her, not knowing what to say. I leaned back against the cushioned seat and hoped the shadows hid the flush I felt covering every inch of my exposed skin. Ty glanced over at me, his eyes locking on mine in the darkness. There was so much to say, but neither of us said a word. My cheeks blazed even hotter.
“I think it’s time,” Serena said, standing up. “We should split up now.”
The music was building, and dancers were swirling across the floor. Waiters were busy bringing hor d’oeuvres and trays of sparkling drinks to the various tables, and more and more people seemed to be milling about. Despite the tension that still lingered in the air, the room had relaxed into a milder atmosphere. If there was any hope of finding the Hetaeria, now was the time to start looking.
I leaned forward, sneaking a peek at the Master. A line of servers in white uniforms promenaded toward him, presenting trays of delicacies. He sneered at each of them before selecting a tall glass of red wine and waving the others away. A trio of Guards wearing masks stood behind him at attention, ready and waiting.
I stared at the Master, trying to read his face, but there was nothing but a pair of cold, calculating eyes. My hands shook as I reached up to make sure my mask was still firmly in place.
I nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.” I stood up and adjusted my dress, trying to ignore the waves of nausea rolling around in my stomach. If something were to go wrong . . .