Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(90)

“I was just outside and saw your little friend,” Merrick said, following my gaze.

“My little friend?”

“Your dragon. The sapphire one.”

My eyes narrowed. “He’s not mine.”

“He certainly seems to like you.”

“They’re out tonight?”

“Three of them are circling the castle in the air right now.”

My stomach twisted. “Have you told Papa?”

“He knows.”

My heart gave a little tremor.

“It’s not a good sign,” I whispered in a distant voice. Suddenly, all of this seemed very overwhelming. It left me short of breath. But after months of preparing, I couldn’t deny feeling a certain relief that the time had finally come. At least I wouldn’t stress over it anymore.

“From the time it was built, the ballroom has been protected by an old magic that the original builders of the castle used. A foolish one in my opinion,” Merrick said in a grim voice, his brow low over his beautiful green eyes. “It doesn’t allow anyone to transport in. Or out.”

“So if something did happen—”

“We’d be trapped inside, unable to transport out. You have Viveet, right?”

“Of course,” I said lightly, smiling at an elderly woman that waddled by. Viveet was strapped to my right thigh, feeling ice cold. “I never leave her out of sight.”

“Take this. Wrap it around your ankle. Just in case you need it later.”

He stopped us where we were on the edge of the crowd and handed me a small dagger, similar to the one I lost in the Western Network when I tried to stab the Book of Contracts.

“Now?” I asked, gazing around.

“Yes. Now.”

Flustered, I knelt down and tied it to my left ankle. When I straightened back up, no one seemed any wiser.

“Good,” he said. “Just keep an eye out. I’m going to look around. Let me know if you see anything suspicious.”

“You look nice tonight, by the way,” I blurted out before he pulled away.

“Thanks.” His eyes met mine, and, if I didn’t know any better, looked amused.

“I-I’ve felt the same way you have all night,” I said then, wanting to break the awkward tension. “It’s not just you.”

“The other Protectors feel it too,” he said, his tone dropping low in a warning. “It always means something.”

The pain in my head took a turn for the worse, making me suddenly dizzy. I turned away from the twirling mass of bodies with a grimace, feeling lightheaded just being near the motion.

“What’s wrong?” Merrick asked, stepping back toward me.

“A headache, that’s all. I’ll be fine. Go. Go look around. Be alert to any changes and protect my father, please.”

I stumbled over the words, barely able to release them before the magic took my throat hostage again. He hesitated, but soon disappeared, expertly blending into the crowd.

Grateful that he’d left, and moving as if blind, I pushed through the substantial crowd of witches along the edges of the ballroom, my eyes half-open. How would I ever look for Miss Mabel while combating such an explosive headache? It felt like someone had a spike to my temples and was driving it in with a large hammer.

The first scream rang out seconds later.

At first I thought I’d imagined it. Maybe one of the violinists had missed a note while playing. But then it happened again. I came to a dead halt. No one else seemed to have heard. The dresses continued to whirl by in dizzying streaks of chiffon and lace. Witches, already getting rummy on ipsum, tilted their heads back and laughed. Perhaps I had picked up on something outside.

Unwilling to bet on so simple an explanation, I spun around and sought my father, confident that he would have heard it as well. Barely able to see him above the crush of people, I caught only a brief glimpse of his tense face. He ignored those nearby, his eyes darting throughout the room. My heart pounded. Papa had heard it too. A damning confirmation that all was not well.

Just across from him, Zane moved into fast action, slipping along the walls behind the ring of people around the dance floor, headed for the High Priestess. Another bad sign. The high-pitched scream came closer, exacerbating my headache. I forced myself to shove through the crowd. This was it. I could feel it.

She’s here.

I had the inexplicable urge to start screaming, to tell people to leave the ballroom, but who would listen? A few witches behind me stopped to gaze around when a third shriek sounded, asking each other, “Did you hear that?”

The next high-pitched sound split through my head, making me see white. I stumbled, barely catching myself before I fell to my knees. The violins squawked, the flutes stumbled, and soon the whole ballroom had tuned into the sound. Witches looked wildly about the room, trying to discover its source.

Then the windows shattered in a fine spray of glass.

I wasn’t sure what was louder: the screams of the witches in the ballroom or the shrieks of the bats that swarmed in. Glass rained down in a glittering shower. The doors to the ballroom slammed shut, sealing us inside an opulent tomb. I ducked underneath a table to hide from the glass and froze, my eyes staring at the shards on the ground in horror.

No shoes!

The bats continued to stream into the room, their long wings fluttering just above our heads. One of them whipped down and scratched me on the cheek with the tip of his wing, drawing a thin line of blood. Another bat grabbed a witch by the hair and pulled on it until she screamed. Nearly paralyzed with fear, the witches in the room ducked, throwing their arms over their heads to protect them from the awful lashings of the heavy wings.