Moonlight Prince (Vampire Girl #4)(18)

Dean chuckles, I sigh, Baron growls, and then we return to our own rooms. In moments, my servants, two Fae girls, dress me in silks. Pale blues and a white vest. A tight collar and tighter cuffs. Bloody hell. How does Asher stand such clothing?

When they are done dressing me like a doll, I leave for the grand hall, sweating below the many layers of clothing designed to torture men. I try to ignore the discomfort. Ignore the knowledge that every moment I spend at this ball is a moment stolen from my search for Arianna. And when I see the ballroom, full of dancing and drinking, of laughter and smiles, I wish Arianna were here. I wish it was we who were dancing. We who were laughing.

I think of the night before we went to battle. The night I thought I'd forgotten from alcohol. The night I made love to Arianna for the first time. It's not a night she'll have likely forgotten, which means I am a complete ass, because the following day we barely talked.

I have to find her. Have to make it up to her. Have to explain… everything.

Soon, I vow. Soon.

Someone brushes past me. A woman wearing a golden dress, her black hair twisted in a complex bun, surely to impress the other nobles. Her skin is pale and perfect and her smile bright. A masquerade mask of silver feathers covers her face. "Would my lord care for a dance?"

"Perhaps later," I say, trying to be delicate. Of course what I really mean is perhaps never.

I make my way through the room, politely refusing all advances, Baron at my side, growling at anyone who pushes too far. When Asher sees the wolf, he rolls his eyes. "Really? You couldn't leave him at home?"

"This is my home," I say, smirking. "If you don't like Baron, you can leave."

Baron bares his teeth in agreement, and Asher backs away. "No. No. I'm fine, dear brother." He pats my vest, adjusting my collar. "Just, when the others arrive, don't do anything rash, okay? We seek peace, not war."

"Then you have the wrong prince," I say, ruffling my collar back to how it was. "When can we expect Niam?"

Asher shrugs. "Seems he's running late."

I scan the ballroom, noticing the woman in gold again. She dances with a man in white, the masquerade mask on his face matching her own. They switch partners as the flow of music hastens, and all the dancers move in intricate patterns. Dean is on the dance floor, wearing a vest and pants, nothing more, his golden chest oiled and glistening under the swirling lights. He laughs, flirts, drinks and dances. Seems he's well on his way to getting over Arianna, but I do wonder… how deep do his feelings go for her? Deeper than he's letting on, I think. And for a moment I feel sorry for him. I realize that with Arianna he could have it all, and yet she wants me, a man who wants nothing to do with these political machinations. It's amazing he doesn't hate me for that alone.

A servant offers me roasted pork on a platter. "No, thank you," I say, preferring to get my own food. Though perhaps I am just sick of slaves catering to my every whim. To all our whims. The vampires live with too much leisure. The Fae with too much servitude.

Speaking of Fae…

Varis approaches me as Asher walks off to dance. The Fae looks wearier than he did, but he smiles brightly. "Finally, some decent company," he says.

"Any news of Arianna?"

He shakes his head, pouring himself a drink that glows purple. "There has been no sign of her. Not even whispers."

I clench my jaw, not surprised, but frustrated all the same. "What of Metsi?"

"She seems to have hidden herself away as well," says Varis, sighing. "What of you? Any luck?"

I lower my voice. "We did find a creature. A Wraith shrouded in darkness. She vowed to tell us of Arianna's location, if…"

Varis's eyes go wide. The wind around him begins to stir. "If? If what?"

I glance around, noticing Tavian by the bar, lost in drink. "If we deliver someone to her."

Varis follows my gaze. "The traveler?"

I nod. "What do you know of him?"

"I have heard tales of his deeds, but how many of them are true I cannot say. He is one of the older ones though, that is certain."

I raise an eyebrow, studying the large man at the bar that is Tavian Gray. "Older ones? Older than you?"

Varis nods, a severity to his look.

I can't make sense of this. Not from what I know. "But he looks as old as Kayla. His hair isn't even white yet."

"There are ways to color hair, Fenris," says Varis.

True. But I have never seen a Fae do so. Age is a symbol of respect in their culture, so none seek to hide theirs.

Varis takes another drink, shivering from the strong effects. "This creature you spoke of. It seems of—"

"The Darkness," I say. "It is."

Varis grabs my arm, his voice taut with urgency. "Then you cannot make dealings with it. The Midnight Star tapped into the Darkness back in the Moonlight Garden, and the grove of my ancestors burned as a result. Innocents were injured. The city nearly ruined."

"I am aware," I say, pulling my arm away and pouring a drink for myself. I put the cup to my lips, pretending to sip so others would see me at ease. But I do not drink. I must keep my wits about me. "I am as loathe to deal with the Wraith as you, but what are we to do then? We have no leads."

"Something may yet present itself. In the meantime, have you given more thought to—"