Page 100 of Fallen Court

Night had fallen around us as we spoke, stars twinkling into existence overhead. Only a sliver of the moon was visible, but despite that, the night was clear and bright. When Étienne’s form blended into it, I dared to touch the subject Lach clearly wished to avoid. “What’s the Danse Macabre? And why don’t you want to go?”

“Last time I took you to an event like that one, you ended up drinking yourself under the table,” he said, a note of concern buried beneath the memory.

A flush of embarrassment warmed my cheeks. I didn’t have to ask which event he was referring to. The Midnight Feast was scorched into my memory for about a dozen reasons, nearly all of which I’d rather forget. But things had been different then, and part of me wondered what it might have been like if we had attended hand in hand instead of at each other’s throats. “I think I can handle it.”

“Can you now?” Skepticism lined his voice, and when he looked at me, all I saw was apprehension.

But I was determined to make the most of tonight, and according to Ciara, a party thrown by vampires was the height of living.

“Let’s go,” I urged, determined to show him I could handle anything.

“Okay.” But he didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about the change in plans.

I couldn’t help but wonder what awaited us at the Danse Macabre and why it seemed like a shadow looming over Lach’s heart.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lach

I knew better than to try to convince Cate the party was a bad idea. Even though that was exactly what it was: a very fucking bad idea. Mostly because I was with her. Half the city’s covens were afraid of me; the other half hated me—and were afraid of me, which was even worse.

The moon crept higher in the sky as we drove into First Parish’s territory, new doubts occurring to me with each star that winked into existence overhead.

“You’re quiet,” Cate accused as the Mercedes wove through the streets of the French Quarter. She stared out the window as we passed Jackson Square. “We don’t have to go.”

When she said things like that, what choice did I have? I shook my head, allowing my beastly glamour to fade as we pulled in front of the valet stand at La Porte. “Just thinking.”

“That’s proven dangerous in the past.” Her eyes studied my face, narrowing to track some fleeting ink, my tattoos once again visible. “Change your mind about the costume?”

“It’s better not to hide,” I said gruffly. On Halloween, when creatures of every sort let their proverbial freak flags fly, even my human glamour would be seen as an attempt to disguise myself. As tempted as I was to blend in, I couldn’t risk undermining my own authority in a place like the Quartier Enchanté. Every eye would be on us from the moment we walked through the doors. “Sorry about the costume.”

“You’re beast enough without it.” There was something low and promising in her voice, as if she knew a reward might be in order for pushing me to attend tonight’s festivities.

She wasn’t wrong. The Danse Macabre could be counted on to get the blood stirring.

I paused before the fairly derelict entrance to La Porte and turned to her. “We can leave if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

Her brows shot up as she blinked rapidly. “Ciara told me that no one throws a party like a vampire.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Is this going to be like the Midnight Feast?”

“Not exactly.” I strained for the right way to explain what the evening held. “It’s a bit more theatrical than that, but…”

“Great. It’s an orgy.” She scowled. “Is everything this group does an orgy?”

I considered for a moment, tilting my head as I sorted through centuries of parties. “I mean, if we can help it.”

Maybe I’d discovered my free pass for getting out of walking through La Porte’s door, but Cate only rolled her eyes. “At least I’m prepared this time.”

“So…you still want to go?”

“Why not?” She winked at me. “It could be fun.”

I didn’t miss the suggestive note in her voice. “Fun?”

“Last time, we weren’t together.” She picked at her sleeve, a slight flush rising on her cheeks.

Well, it was clear what that implied.

“We can leave anytime,” I promised her. Cate might have thought she was up for this, but she’d been known to get in over her head before.