Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(83)
Tonight has been an exercise in ignoring Amelie and Ian, who always seem to be in the corner of my eye. She came in with a gorgeous black mask that has feathers and jewels, and a tight, tight red dress. Ian matches her: red mask, black-and-red suit.
I wonder if anyone’s compared her to the Queen of Hearts. Off with their heads!
Luckily, Amelie doesn’t have that much power.
Savannah brought a new boy to the dance. His mask obscures too much of his face, but people are whispering.
The slow song ends, and I step away from Caleb. My feet ache.
“Thirsty?” he asks.
I nod, searching for Riley. After a moment, I find her and point. “I’ll be over there.”
He grins. There’s a spot of red lipstick on his lip, and I start to rub it off for him.
He stops me. “Leave it. I like your mark on me.”
I grin, shaking my head. Of course he does.
Halfway to Riley’s table, a girl approaches. She grabs my arm and pulls me out a side door, into a hallway.
“Excuse me,” I snap.
She lifts her mask.
Claire.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp.
She rolls her eyes. “Nice seeing you, too, sis.”
“Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to crash the party.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting you to ignore my phone calls.”
“I’m not. I haven’t got any from you.”
She scowls.
“Seriously. And my phone is in Caleb’s jacket…”
“I have something important to tell you, Margo.”
I hold up my hands. “Okay, okay.”
It must be bad if Claire is willing to travel all the way to Rose Hill to tell me something. Bad or good, I guess. My bet is on the former. And as I think that, my stomach twists.
“I was worried about you,” she said. “And you know how we met your foster mom the other day?”
Last week, at the mall. How could I forget?
My face answers for me.
Claire sighs. “She was familiar—but like, in an ‘I have a bad feeling about this’ kind of way. You know those moments where you just want to follow your gut?”
“I… guess.” I don’t like where this is going.
“Remember when we lived together, and you found my stash?”
Of newspaper clippings. Yes.
Her parents died in a car accident, and for a while, she was obsessed with other kids who lost parents in accidents. If there was a newspaper write-up about it, you could bet that Claire had it cut out and pressed into a notebook.
“Some of them had pictures, you know? Like of the family mourning.”
“Okay, and?”
“Your foster mom seemed familiar.”
I roll my eyes. “You said the same freaking thing about Caleb!”
“He still is familiar,” she mutters. “But that’s not what we’re talking about right now. The point is: I figured out your foster mom!”
I squint at her, finally untying my mask. I pull it off. “From… your newspaper clippings?”
“Yes! Her daughter died in a crash like, five years ago. There was a picture of her and her husband at the grave site.”
“That’s awful, Claire. And, for the record, I knew she died.”
“No, but look.” She pulls a paper from her pocket, shoving it into my hand. “Just read that!”
“Margo?”
I spin around, crumpling the paper in my fist. Caleb walks toward us, gaze bouncing back and forth between Claire and me.
“I don’t recognize you,” he says, his eyes on her. “A friend of Margo’s?”
I glance back at Claire, but she has her mask firmly back in place. She takes a few steps backward, shrugging. “See ya later, Wolfe.”
“You good?” he asks.
“Yep.” My dress has small pockets. They aren’t big enough for a phone, but definitely for a scrap of paper. I tuck it in and retie my mask.
Caleb hands me a cup of punch, and we go join Riley and Eli.
Claire’s warning is swept away in the excitement of the rest of the evening. Eventually, Caleb’s hand on my back is too much for me to bear. The room is slowly emptying out, and I find myself leaning on him more and more.
We’ve done our part. We showed up, we danced, we were seen and admired. The last two things were just what I figured Caleb wanted. We talked with Theo and Liam, who both opted to come alone.
At one point, Theo stole Amelie away from Ian and whisked her around. They both actually knew how to do more than sway, which was… impressive. I didn’t figure him as the type to fall for her charm.
Caleb chuckled at my expression. “He’s using Amelie.”
“For what?”
He just shakes his head.
Now, I lean against Caleb and try to telepathically tell him that it’s okay to leave.
“Tired?” he asks.
I nod, emphatic.
He tuts and leans down. “Poor thing. I thought our night was just getting started…”
His words undo me.
I press my thighs together, turning so my lips brush his ear. “Tired of being surrounded by people,” I clarify.
He smirks. “If you insist.”