Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(96)

“Me too,” I laugh.

We bump fists, and Katya pushes us lightly. “Traitors.”

We hook our arms around her, and Timo raises his scepter. “To the reddest death!”

Even though I’m smiling, even though everything seems upbeat, my bad feeling—it still hasn’t vanished.

I’m usually afraid of so few things, but fear crawls towards me. I see it coming, and I don’t know how to stop it.





Act Thirty-Three

Baylee Wright




The Red Death is the epitome of sultry Vegas nightlife. The Masquerade’s most popular club is nearly pitch-black except for red strobe lights that sweep grinding, intoxicated bodies, and the sensual red bulbs above the packed bar, plus mandatory glow necklaces worn by all attendees.

I dance in a sweltering pit.

Last I knew, Kat and Thora were close by, but my senses are lost to the heady atmosphere and strong drum beats. Shutting my eyes, my limbs move in a natural rhythm. I feel more heavy than I like, but I don’t stop dancing.

And then hands spindle down my hips from behind. My eyes snap open, but his lips already touch my ear. “It’s me,” he whispers deeply.

It’s Luka.

My lungs expand.

It’s Luka.

Our bodies never pause, never go motionless. We move in sync to the music, fitting perfectly.

My arm curves upwards around his neck, my fingers running through his hair, and his hand dives down my hipbone. Feeling each shift of my body, from side-to-side. We dance as one, and my skin tingles, sweat building between us, lit alive.

Burning up.

I tilt my head back, happy to risk this moment with Luk. Our unrestrained energy seeps into my veins and bursts.

Reminding me why I love to dance.

Why I unequivocally love him.

I look up at his features, illuminated by his blue glow necklace, and he stares back down at me, my face glowing with the same blue.

On impulse, he snaps off our necklaces. Shrouding us in the club’s darkness, he drops his hand, glowing blue by our sides.

My back pressed up to his chest, our bodies are in equal rhythm.

And Luka—he never hesitates. Never falters. His lips meet mine, and he kisses me with a powerful insurgency of warmth.

His affection flames and dances inside of me.

I can’t help but smile against his lips, and I feel his own appear as strongly. We kiss and dance, and something overpowers me just knowing we’re surrounded by other people.

It almost feels like we’re a real couple. Like he could be my boyfriend. I could be his girlfriend, and we’re living inside a fairytale.

I clutch the back of his head for support as he deepens the kiss.

“GOD OF RUSSIA! GOD OF RUSSIA!”

We rip apart at the sudden chant, our feet falling flat. Stopping for the first time. And then a giant red spotlight glares down on us and our section of the club.

Our chests rise and fall heavily, and even though we’ve physically separated, our gazes stay latched. I’m scared to lose him in the massive crowds. I’m afraid to break apart.

I want him close.

Forever.

I wish it could be in the realm of possibility. I wipe sweat off my forehead with my arm, at least feeling lucky that Nikolai or Dimitri didn’t catch us kissing.

“GOD OF RUSSIA!” the Kotovas still chant. They pat Nikolai on the shoulder and push him towards the center of the spotlight.

People start backing up to make Nikolai the sole bearer of attention. I follow suit with Luka, standing more on the outskirts of the red circle. We fall even further into the shadows.

Our fingers brush, my nerves twitching in a good way, and with my other hand, I reach for my necklace.

“Let me,” he says.

I nod and collect my hair over my shoulder. He snaps the plastic around my neck.

“Thanks,” I whisper, not sure if he heard me over the music and chanting.

Luka thumbs the necklace for a second longer, and I see a sad thought cling to his gray eyes. I stare at his own blue glow necklace, and I wonder if any girls will try to hit on him.

I cringe at the possibility, but I know the glow necklaces signify relationship status.

Blue means single.

Green means taken.

Red means it’s complicated.

I thought about choosing red, but I figured it’d prompt too many questions by Katya and Thora. Blue seemed safer.

I watch his features darken. “What?!” I ask him over the music.

Luka lowers his head and raises his voice. “I cut off a few guys from dancing with you! Sorry!” He’s not sorry.

Neither am I. “I’m not here for other guys!” I shout back.

Luka smiles, so charismatic that I smile too. His hand tightens in mine, aching to pull me to his chest, but he glances at his cousins and the red spotlight.

Things are happening around us, and we’re not noticing.

We’re dangerously in our own world.

Reality catches up even more as Katya sidles close. “There you are,” she says to both of us. She tied her hair into a high bun, and her blue glow necklace brightens her big eyes. “You’re not missing it, right?” Katya asks and gestures to Nikolai.

“GOD OF RUSSIA! GOD OF RUSSIA!”

I’ve heard of this Red Death event enough to know that Nikolai isn’t about to breakdance and this isn’t special just because of his birthday.