Wicked Bite (Night Rebel #2)(47)

I was still tempted to rip the dress off.

Ian leaned down, taking in a deep breath before his lips brushed my throat. “Whatever you’re thinking, keep thinking it,” he murmured. “Desire sharpens your scent until it’s like standing in the middle of a storm, rain whipping me while lightning crashes all around . . .”

“Stop,” I breathed, need making my voice breathy. “Or we’re going to miss the ball, piss off Yonah, and lose our chance to track Dagon and the other resurrected souls.”

He backed away, but the heat in his eyes made it impossible for me to move. Ropes couldn’t have held me more securely.

“One hour.” His voice was tight. “Then find the nearest loo. I’ll meet you there.”

I merely nodded, then set a reminder on my mobile for sixty minutes. Heat still smoldered in his gaze, but he held open the door as if he were a perfect gentleman.

“To the ball, then.”





Chapter 26


I quickly learned that “ball” was a flexible term. “Extravaganza” would more accurately describe the sight that greeted us when we ascended back to the main level of the mansion. The bonfires were still lit outside, but little else had stayed the same.

All the cabanas and most of the slides were now gone, leaving ample space for the silk swaths that formed several open tents around the pool area. Champagne fountains and blood fountains floated off the ground, while stationary towers of roasted meat, pastas, cheeses, vegetables, fruits, and desserts made up the edible decorations. The towers never toppled over no matter how many people helped themselves to their bounty, either, and there were a lot of people. Hundreds.

This was only one level of the party. We followed a line of formally dressed people to the second floor, where an orchestra played one of the most famous musical scores, from The Phantom of the Opera. That wouldn’t have been unusual, except the orchestra consisted of instruments playing themselves while floating near the ceiling. Vampires, ghouls, demons, and humans danced, laughed, and mingled below them, interacting with an ease I had never seen when so many different species were present.

They weren’t the only supernatural beings here. I didn’t know what the blue-skinned people with the tiny white lights in their hair were. Or the tall, winged people who reminded me of carvings of Sumerian Anunnaki deities from my childhood, but they also chatted with the others as if there was nothing unusual about different supernatural species getting along.

A burst of applause directed our attention to the end of the ballroom, where an immense balcony opened up to views of the sea. A crowd gathered there to watch something beyond our view. Ian and I went over to see what they were looking at.

Once on the balcony, we saw Leviathan dancing above the waves. Their watery bodies moved in perfect unison to the music, illuminated by spotlights pointing at that section of the water. They leapt and whirled, while other Leviathan formed into different sea creatures that effortlessly glided between them. I had never seen anything so stunningly graceful. It was as if the soaring music manifested into the Leviathan’s beautiful, fluid forms. I watched, riveted, until the final crescendo from the song “The Music of the Night” faded into silence and the Leviathan melted back into the waves and disappeared.

Applause broke out from the onlookers. I joined in. Next to the Leviathan’s riveting aquatic display, the statue of Medusa walking around while filling her champagne glass from one of the many floating fountains paled by comparison.

I paled by comparison, too. Here, my half-celestial nature didn’t make me someone to be feared, loathed, admired or even noticed. I was simply one of many unusual creatures, more interesting than some and far less remarkable than others.

“You’re trembling,” Ian said, and drew me away from the crowd on the balcony.

“I’ve needed to hide what I am for my entire life, and suddenly, I’m ordinary.” I couldn’t suppress the wonder in my voice. “Even if I went into full daughter-of-the-underworld mode, I don’t think these people would be afraid. Some might even yawn!”

Ian snorted. “I doubt that, but I see your point. Must feel very freeing.”

“Yes,” I said with such emphasis, his brows went up.

“Are you saying you’d like to stay here permanently?”

I opened my mouth to deny that . . . and stopped.

Did I? I could, as the island’s entry requirement was rejection by your own species. I had that covered as soon as I showed Yonah what I was. Ian did, too, now that he was a vampire with partial demon powers. For all I knew, Yonah thought both Ian and I had come here to seek asylum. Ashael had told Yonah that he was bringing two sojourners. He hadn’t said he was bringing two people who only wanted Yonah to do a spell for them before they quickly left.

What if Ian, Silver, and I did stay here, safe from Dagon and everyone else trying to kill us? What if we made a life where none of us ever had to hide what we were again?

“You like the idea,” Ian said, no surprise on his features.

My sigh came from the deepest part of me. “I love it, but I can’t. I made a vow to my father. Even if I hadn’t, Dagon will try to kill the other resurrected souls to regain the power they absorbed from him, and some of them might have been innocent like you were.”

“I was no innocent,” Ian said, his smile sardonic. “But I was tricked, and I can hardly begrudge those people their chance to live if Dagon tricked them, too. Besides”—his gaze turned knowing—“you spent most of your life putting yourself in a position of power so you could help the powerless. You won’t give up on them just to hide out here.”