“Is that Evie Witherington?” Someone to my right asks.
An older woman in a jewel-crusted mask says, “I don’t know, but she looks about the right age.”
“She looks ripe.” An old man in a beaded mask leers.
I could break his neck and disappear, but that’s not what I’m here for. He’ll just have to wait his turn.
A man breaks away from the largest group at the back of the ballroom near the small string quartet. He wears a midnight blue mask with white feathers at the temples. Something in his bearing tells me exactly who he is. Beau Corrigan.
I edge closer to where Evie stands alone, her mouthwatering figure set off perfectly in her dress and heels. She’s a feast for the eyes, and plenty of the sick motherfuckers in this room are ready and waiting at the buffet line.
The room gets quieter, everyone watching the Sovereign approach her.
“Evie Witherington.” He smiles big. “I’m so pleased you could make it.” He takes her hand in his.
“Thank you for the invitation.” She dips her chin only a little. Good girl.
“My pleasure. When I heard you were back in town, I knew we had to do something big to welcome you back to your family.” He smiles at her. “This is, after all, where you belong.”
“Thank you.”
He still hasn’t released her hand. It’s making me fucking itchy.
“We’re a bit smaller than before, but we still like a good party. Might I have a dance with you, Evie?”
She glances around, and I know she’s searching for me in the crowd. But I’ve already blended in. Like she said, I was raised in this. I know exactly how to play my part.
“Of course.” She smiles. It’s strained and wrong, but he doesn’t know that.
So he leads her deeper into the room and motions to the quartet to play something I’m certain he already pre-selected for just this moment. These fools are always so predictable. In both their boring moments as well as their violent sprees.
I want to keep an eye on her, but I also need to get my hands on the iPad I saw earlier. The guest list—that’s money. The plan I sold to Sin was for me to break into the Sovereign’s office while I’m here, do some real James Bond shit, and leave with the names. But now that I know it’s all conveniently typed into that smarmy greeter’s iPad, all I have to do is swipe it. Once that’s done, I can take Evie and get the fuck out of here.
Easy peasy.
22
Evie
The Sovereign pulls me tightly against him as we start a stiff waltz. It’s been a long time since I took dance classes, but it seems those lessons were beaten into me enough by my dance teacher that I remember the steps with mechanical ease.
“I was worried you’d decide against coming to greet your family at this little get-together.” He knows the steps by heart, too, and he leads me with careful attention to the people gathered around. They watch us through their masks, only shadowy holes where their eyes should be.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Is that so?” He spins me with the cadence of the music, but I don’t feel like this is a dance at all. It’s more of a hostage negotiation. Only, I’m the one who’s the hostage.
“My family has always taken part in the Acquisition.”
“That’s correct. In fact, I’d venture to say you’re one of the bedrock families of this institution. That’s why it was so wonderful when you returned to your home. The Witherington roots are still strong, and I want you to know that I personally want to ensure that those roots grow even deeper.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
His piercing eyes seem to bore into me as we continue our dance. He’s younger than I expected. Perhaps mid-forties or so. Sovereigns don’t have any specific age requirement. The only true requirement is cruelty, as far as I recall. Then again, it’s not as if he went through the trials and came out victorious. He was chosen by default since there hasn’t been a Sovereign for five years nor any mechanism through which to choose one.
“You were elected?” I ask to break up his unflinching stare.
“It wasn’t a true democratic process, but yes, I earned the trust of several of our older members. The last coronation event was such a blow to the organization that we needed leadership as soon as possible, and it simply couldn’t wait. But, I can assure you I know the rules, and I will step down from my duties as Sovereign after the next Acquisition trials take place and a winner is declared.”
My lungs seem to constrict at his words. “You’re running the trials?”
“Absolutely.” He smiles. “We must honor the old ways, don’t you think?”
I nod while inside I’m screaming.
“I’m glad we’re of the same mind, which brings me to another topic of concern.”