Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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A whizzing sound—then a BOOM exploded overhead, drowning out the music and illuminating the sky with a starburst of violent silver. I stood in the middle of the lawn staring up into the velvety night sky with a grin of sheer wonderment. My gaze drifted with the fire raining downward to the crowd gathered around the dancers erupting into cheers, who were just as enrapt as I was with the first of the fireworks. A few more would be let off before the main display in half an hour's time. And it was a pressing reminder that I was running out of time if I wanted to talk to Tomas and entice another kiss from him.
As my gaze sharpened on the group gathered near a cluster of tall wildfyre torches, my stomach pitched and rolled, and my smile slipped from my mouth.
Master Sirro stood with Marissa's parents, Sanela and Romain, and a few other heirs, including Aldert Pelan, whom Marissa was clinging to with a dazzling smile almost as wide as her face.
The Horned God had almost caught me out when he'd arrived at the Servants' Dance. How he suspected I was other, I had no idea.
The past few hours, I'd kept a close eye out for Master Sirro, making sure to keep myself concealed within the sea of dancers or the crowd surrounding them, but I hadn't seen much of him after his urging to continue with the festivities. He'd disappeared soon afterward, and now obviously had returned from wherever he'd been.
It was deceptive, the immense power wrapped around him. He looked like a debonair playboy, casually at ease and flashing a devastating smile, with his Familiar standing subserviently to the side but slightly behind him.
The group turned away from their skyward staring and resumed their conversation. While Romain listened to Sirro, he stroked his cleft chin with a curled forefinger, his eyes hooded in thought. His thin, winged mustache twitched with his upper lip as he murmured a reply.
Sanela, a woman with refined elegance, stood at the edge of the group looking bored. Her gaze drifted leisurely over the nearby servants. I wondered if there was any merit to the gossip amongst us, and if, what Marissa seemed to believe, one of them was having an affair with one of us.
I realized a minute later I was doing the same thing as Sanela when I woke up to the fact that once again my gaze was roaming over the wall of revelers, once again not searching for Tomas, but Mr. Whiskers.
I hadn't spotted him earlier, either. I'd even done a walkabout when that five minutes Tomas had promised me before a dance had, in fact, turned to a disappointing thirty. I'd wandered about trying to locate Mr. Whiskers' tall frame, trying to convince myself that I was merely curious, and not at all hopeful that I would find him alone, rather than dancing with some other woman.
It was confusing and conflicting. On one hand, there was a surly man who had displayed no interest in me whatsoever. On the other, there was easy-going Tomas with his gorgeous eyes and pouty lips who had agreed to meet me in the kitchen cool room. I turned away from the dance and hurried across the lawns to the mansion, and in particular, the kitchen.
