“If you were looking for me, why not just come to my dorm?”
He didn’t answer, and I was momentarily distracted by his unusually formal appearance. Beneath his black leather jacket, he wore a dark button-up shirt and matching trousers, but my eyes were drawn to the thin gold chain that glinted at his throat. I’d never seen him wear it before, and the effect of the chain, together with his gold earring, winking out from behind his cascading curls—with thatlookon his face—was intoxicating. With apang of mortification, I realized that I’d been staring at him for far longer than was appropriate.
“Were you planning to walk all the way there?” he asked, shooting a dubious glance toward my spiky heels. His gaze drifted to my bare legs, visible beneath my coat, and my face heated in spite of the cold.
“It’s not that far,” I said defensively.
He sighed and gestured with his chin toward a sleek black car parked on the curb. “Come on, I’ll drive.”
I was too frostbitten to refuse his offer.
I clutchedat the handle of the passenger door as he whipped us around winding curves, past rows of cobblestone streets and alleyways, and beyond the groves of shadowy trees. Downtown, the lampposts were already lit for the evening passersby, casting warm halos on the streets below. Despite his reckless speed, I was grateful for the toasty interior of the car.
He slowed as we came upon a row of mansard houses with intricate ivory facades and dual-pitched roofs in the old French style. 779 Pearl Street did not disappoint. The manor was at least three stories, replete with a brownstone walk-up and curved window dormers that made me think of cycloptic, peering eyes.
I glanced over at Casimir. He clicked off the engine and turned to me.
“Ready?” he asked.
“No.” I wasn’t ready to face them. The Gilded Circlites saw me as nothing more than the scum on their boots. As the beneficiary of Ouverham’s scholarship fund, my presence at the college was an unfortunate anomaly, and they’d never invited me to parties, even when I was August’s friend. “Can I leave this here?” I asked, shucking off my coat.
Casimir eyed the high slit, the exposed skin of my thigh, lingering on the curve of my collarbone visible above the silk neckline, a slow smile on his lips, before his gaze darted back to my leg. To the name tattooed onto my flesh.
“Nice dress,” he remarked.
“It’s borrowed,” I snapped, tugging down the dress so that the mark was covered.
But Casimir’s lips were already curving into a dangerously playful smirk.
“By all means, if you want to take the opportunity tonight to show everyone who you belong to, that’s fine w?—”
I interrupted hotly, “I donotbelong to you! Or to anyone!”
Unable to stop his grin from spreading, he raised his hands in surrender. “Of course not. I was only joking.” Darkly playful eyes slid to mine. “You are walking into this party with me, though, you know.” He dropped the playful manner and looked at me seriously. “Remember to follow my lead tonight. We have one mission… to get that necklace.”
“And probe for information about the Heir,” I reminded him. I felt a pang of annoyance. His attempt to bait me into forgetting my fear had been successful. I glanced up at the grand manor looming before us, and my nerves kicked up a notch.
Casimir exited the car, and for a moment, I just sat there, feeling the cool rush of air as he closed the door, trying to steady myself before I followed him into the party. Into the lion’s den.
As if he’d read the apprehension written on my face, Casimir nodded. “A piece of advice? Don’t let them see your fear. Fake it if you have to.”
Right. Don’t be a coward.
I set my jaw and steeled myself for the chilly night air. Casimir offered me a dazzlingly sincere smile as he took in my dress, displayed in all its shimmering glory. Under his softer gaze, my mind went liquid and incoherent. I returned the smile with a shy one of my own as I joined him on the threshold.
16
The large mahogany door swung open to reveal an explosion of light and chaos. Bryce ushered us in, beaming in a midnight-blue dress that glittered with bright sequins and beading, her bone-straight black hair coiled into a sleek bun atop her head. Next to Casimir, she looked enchanting, the pair of them dressed head-to-toe in dark, gilded regalia. My eyes were drawn to a gold serpent pendant clinging to the elegant column of her throat, its gleaming blood-red rubies glaring up at me.
Beware eyes of venom, the winding coil’s twist, and death’s slithering kiss.
Holy. Shit.
Bryce’s necklace matched up with the hint from theBook of Erebos. Was this the necklace Casimir was planning to steal? More importantly, was Bryce Yu-Ri the Keeper’s Heir?
I couldn’t stop staring at the serpent at her throat. Luckily, Bryce was too busy gawking at Casimir to notice my preoccupation.
The starry-eyed look she gave Casimir seemed to mirror the glimmering sequins of her dress.