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  Scanning the room, I got my bearings in the crowded space. Wait staff weaved about in white so they were easily set apart from the evening’s assigned attire. Arranged on some trays, fancy hors d’oeuvres with imaginative garnishments; on others, small crystalline glasses filled with thick, red liquid.

  There was no mistaking what was inside them.

  I breathed deeply and glanced up, taking in the sight of broken figurines dancing on the ceiling. At least, that’s how they appeared. Dressed in black leotards, weightless ballerinas moved with such grace and elegance as they defied gravity, their bare feet hardly touching the murals between rafters. These dancers were, no doubt, here by way of the South Quadrant, their unique gift of flight being put to use in the form of art.

  It was all so over the top, and yet, somehow still hauntingly beautiful.

  My gaze lowered and I took in my surroundings again.

  “Is there a bar, Cori?” Liv asked.

  “Mmm hmm,” I muttered quietly, so only they could hear.

  “Good, head over. The only thing powerful men enjoy more than a beautiful woman, is a strong drink,” she joked.

  Following her advice, I moved that way, being careful not to touch anyone as I crossed the room, surveying the area with each step. I preferred to know what I was walking into. My gaze landed on each one—the tense couple who barely said a word to one another, the couple who could barely keep their hands off each other, and then I spotted … them.

  There were three seated at the bar beside the terrace, laughing just a hair above the sound of a well-studied cellist strumming a piano-accompanied rendition of Moonlight Sonata. These women were dressed as lavishly as every other in the room, but they were definitely different.

  They were human.

  Their vibrant green, brown and blue eyes were a dead giveaway.

  They stared and I stared back, noticing the presence of odd jewelry—skeleton keys. One dangled around one’s neck from a black, satin ribbon. Another with the same ribbon and key tied around her wrist. And a third with hers cheekily secured around her ankle. My guess was this was a new fashion trend I missed. Literally living underground tended to have that effect.

  The trio stared, their expressions dimming as we observed one another. Dolls were a blight on the undertaking so many had died for—an army of money-hungry, human women who’d taken the easy way out, selling themselves to the highest bidder all for a chance to escape the hell they left their sisters, their friends, their mothers behind to endure. They were a mockery of our mission, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them, their big smiles, the jewels dripping from their ears and necks, the way they proudly wore their marks—barcode tattoos they’d been given upon purchase.

  These tattoos were meant to ensure that, should a Doll wander too far from her Master, any nearby sentinel could scan her code and instantly know who owned her, if she’d been reported missing. It was degrading, but these women allowed it.

  Allowed themselves to be objectified, all because they were too weak to endure until everyone could be free.

  The practice of receiving what human’s coined ‘the vampire’s mark’ fed into the belief that money could buy anything … including a life. Dolls willingly gave themselves to Ianite men as property, generally for whatever uses the men saw fit. They couldn’t see beyond the perks—regaining some semblance of freedom, whatever wealth their Masters chose to bestow upon them. They were a notoriously self-absorbed, spoiled breed.

  Kept women.

  Marked women.

  As I stared at them, acknowledging that their very existence was a contradiction of everything my team fought for, I couldn’t remember ever feeling hatred deeper than I did in that moment.

  “Recognize any of the faces we went over from the Tine Facility’s directory?” Felix asked, helping me pull my attention from the Dolls, the embarrassment to our history.

  I offered another quiet response. “Nope.”

  Sighing, I focused on the door, hoping at least one familiar face would saunter through, hoping at least one part of this mission would come easily. It crossed my mind that I may have said some magic word in that prayer, because no sooner than I silently begged we’d catch a break, the request was answered.

  “Pierce Cooper.” I mumbled the name while covering my mouth, pretending to yawn.

  “Vol’s second in command,” Liv piped.

  “Move in on him, Cori, but remember, never trust a man with two last names,” Felix joked. “We’re with you in spirit. You’ve got this.”

  My com went quiet and I knew my chance had finally arrived. Cooper was otherwise occupied, entertaining a Doll I assumed to be his own, but I had to interrupt. I owed it to my team to get this right. With the information this could score for us, this was perhaps the most important mission I’d ever been given. In other words, I couldn’t afford to fail.

  I squared my shoulders and put one foot in front of the other.

  It was go-time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Julian

  “We’re just fashionably late,” Levi reasoned. “Anyone who’s anyone arrives at least an hour after an event starts.”

  He glanced down, adjusting the band of a wristwatch with an array of diamonds and rubies in its bezel that outnumbered the stars in the sky.

  The four of us stood with our backs to the limousine as some of the most beautiful women the Dynasty had to offer took our arms. Levi had done what he promised against my will, filled the implied ‘plus one’ requirement for tonight’s soiree.

  For he and I, twin heiresses of a local fashion mogul—Celeste and Cecelia. As far as leggy blondes went, they were beautiful, but it wasn’t lost on me that there was a cost for this look they sported. Tonight, it was Levi and I sitting in their family’s parlor, twiddling our thumbs while we waited.

  Their slight features and heart-shaped faces gave them an innocence I knew for a fact didn’t match their personalities. They were brisk, entitled, and if memory served after so many months … Cecelia was rather aggressive in bed. Despite the one and only date we’d gone on ending on a literal high note, I had no interest in seeing her again.

  But here we were, thanks to Levi.

  For Silas, there was Laura, a duchess from the North I’d seen interviewed recently for her efforts to illegalize the ownership of Dolls in her respective territory. On fire for her cause, she was as feisty as she was attractive, making her right up Silas’ alley.

  For Roman, Levi called in a special favor with hopes of lifting his spirits. He arranged for the daughter of one of the West’s most decorated generals to be flown into the Capitol. Marie had been on Roman’s radar in the past, despite her best efforts to avoid the limelight. However, as a guest of the South’s most eligible bachelor at the most anticipated event of the century, there would be no escaping the publicity.

  Despite his opposition toward attending tonight, Roman had cleaned up nicely. Much to his father’s dismay, he still hadn’t opted for a haircut, but he’d at least slicked it back and tamed his beard. With our attire donated by some of the most well-known designers, we were each wearing someone’s yearly salary on our backs. To me, it was all a bit excessive and more trouble than I would have gone through on my own, but when in Rome …

  As we neared the entrance of Lord Wilford’s palace, my security detail followed the orders I’d given earlier in the day. They would be responsible for us all tonight, but would post just outside the doors where they’d remain until the event ended. There was no need for them to follow us inside and I couldn’t imagine wading through the crowd with twelve, armed men flanking us. With so many dignitaries and aristocrats in attendance, this was the safest place to be on the planet.

  We escorted our dates up the stone steps and didn’t pause to acknowledge the nonstop camera flashes at either side as we passed. In the foyer, an attendant pulled us from line when he recognized our faces. We were then ushered through the gallery and into the ballroom.

  Silas entered
first, toting Laura close. Roman was just as attentive of Marie. Celeste hung on Levi’s every word, and Cecelia clung to my side, tugging down the hem of the short, silver dress she likely borrowed from the family vault. From what I’d seen of her and Celeste on magazine covers, at red carpet events, they rarely stepped out in anything that didn’t boast their father’s name.

  Free publicity, I guessed.

  Soft classical music billowed through the room, from a small ensemble orchestra nestled between the bar and French doors that led to a terrace. Cecelia’s eyes lifted to the ceiling where a renowned dance ensemble from Roman’s quadrant leapt and twirled from one end of the room to the other. The turnout was massive like I expected. Crossing this threshold of five-hundred years postbellum was significant to both sides for very different reasons, and Ianites saw fit to celebrate. Having studied abroad a few years, encountering all sorts of people with all sorts of ideals, I developed an interesting viewpoint on the whole of our history. I wasn’t attending this event in acknowledgement of one side’s success, nor the fall of the other. I was here because I was expected to be.

  “I say we make a couple quick rounds to make an appearance, speak to a few people who matter, and then bail. Should take an hour tops. I spotted at least six bars on the way over,” Roman leaned in to say, as he adjusted his bowtie. His expression suggested he equated it to the likes of a noose as opposed to an accessory.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Levi seconded. He scanned the room and it was obvious he was no more interested in being here than me, or the others, despite his push to get us to attend. It all boiled down to social obligation.

  “While cutting out early sounds good in theory,” Silas interjected with the voice of reason, “we’d never make a clean break. Too many eyes,” he added.

  Levi shrugged and donned a vague smile. “Perhaps you’re right. Besides, there’s always a chance the evening could take an intriguing turn.”

  Silas passed a glance toward him, but said nothing.

  I wasn’t sure about the latter statement, but Silas was absolutely right about the first. Keeping a low profile had never been easy for us, it certainly wouldn’t be any easier now that so many were keeping us on their radar with the elevation taking place in one short year. With the realization, I settled on the idea of being stuck here at the precise moment I locked gazes with my father several yards away. He paused from schmoozing to give an approving nod in my direction, before sipping his champagne.

  There were familiar faces all over the room—friends of the family, a few from my years at the academy. A short wave from the other side of the room caught my attention, and I waved back when I spotted Priscilla among the crowd. Cecelia stared down her nose as I dragged her toward the girl whose free spirit and sense of humor singlehandedly got me through a night course I’d taken a year ago. Had it not been for her, I would have slept my way to an F.

  A solid embrace made it clear I’d been missed, too.

  “Well if it isn’t the next Emperor Westower, in the flesh,” Priscilla greeted me, offering a shallow curtsey.

  I laughed off the embarrassment of being referred to in that way, although I guessed I should get used to it soon.

  “It’s wonderful seeing you. How’s Gerald?”

  Priscilla nodded, her smile growing at the mention of her fiancé.

  “He’s excellent. Would’ve been here, but his team’s been working around the clock since the blood recall. They’ve been running all kinds of tests, hoping to figure out how the tainted supply slipped through the cracks.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize he transferred to the Tine Facility.”

  Another nod. “About four months ago. He loves it, and the hike in pay has been great, but the added demand on his time has been hard.”

  Her expression dimmed, and with the change, I sensed an air of sadness I wasn’t sure she meant to reveal.

  My lips parted to speak. In fact, I already knew what I’d say next. It would have been something thoughtful and sympathetic, before moving on to see what other info she had about the recall. However … those words stalled in my throat, leaving my friend hanging as my vision tunneled, zeroing in on a target several yards away.

  It baffled me how, even at an event where everyone had been asked to wear the same color, one girl somehow managed to stand out from all the others.

  And … I couldn’t look away.

  Not even for a second.

  Wondering if our paths had ever crossed before and I’d somehow forgotten, I watched her. Unashamedly, I watched her.

  She was deeply engaged in conversation with another, a man with dark hair just beginning to gray around the temples. It was hard to say whether the tone of the discussion was pleasant or not, but that was due in part to her intensity, that unrelenting stare as she drank every single word he spoke.

  I was hit with a strange sensation I couldn’t shake, an unwavering desire to steal her attention from whoever that man was, the one somehow blessed to stand so close to such a beautiful creature.

  Large eyes framed in dark lashes eased into a slight, upward arc. It only added to an already overwhelming air of femininity that made me breathe unevenly, harder, like some Neanderthal. And her lips … full with a subtle pout. The sultry curve was still somewhat visible, even when she offered the man a smile.

  The lucky bastard.

  A silver dress with narrow straps plunged between her breasts and I swallowed when my mouth went dry. The thin material hugged a slender, womanly figure just past her hips where a generous slit that stretched to the ankle offered a peek at toned legs that went on for days. A thick, dark mane just shy of reaching her elbow revealed its length when she pulled it over her shoulder.

  My breath had literally been stolen and I realized I’d gotten lost in this fantasy in silver heels, pausing mid-conversation. I closed my mouth as I focused again, still stealing glances every few seconds.

  Priscilla smiled when my gaze finally returned to hers, laughing a bit when I struggled to pick up where we left off.

  “I uh … I understand, but hopefully things will slow down when they figure this thing out,” I rambled vaguely.

  Priscilla nodded. “Well, here’s hoping that’s sooner rather than later.”

  I agreed. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for that wedding invitation.”

  “You better. I’ll be expecting you,” she smiled as the orchestra closed out another set and we parted ways.

  It wasn’t until I was nearly all the way back to Levi and Celeste that I realized I’d held a full conversation and never thought once to introduce Cecelia. Partly because the mysterious beauty I just glanced at again had stolen every single thought from my head.

  Apologizing to Cecelia for the oversight would have only called attention to the faux pas, so I decided against it.

  The music changed. Not just the song, the sound as a whole, the genre. The classical pieces I guessed Lord Wilford preferred for the light social portion of the evening were swapped out for a still tasteful jazz band.

  “This is marginally better,” Cecelia muttered. “These things are always such snooze fests.”

  The complaint reminded me of another reason I hadn’t called after that first date—she was under the delusion that the world around her was supposed to keep her entertained. Like now, she hated the music, so she’d resorted to pouting.

  Seeing my expression shift from tolerant to annoyed, Levi immediately created a buffer.

  “Gentlemen, I think the four of us should get these ladies some drinks,” he suggested, passing Silas a quick glance before turning to lead us all to the bar.

  My gaze drifted toward the woman again, going mad over the fact that she hadn’t noticed me yet, not even with how I could hardly stop noticing her. Whatever the topic of her conversation, it must have been heavy.

  “Please tell me one of you knows who she is?” I had to ask, the second it was just the four of us.

  Three sets of eyes followed my gaze across the
room, toward the exquisite woman who made my nearly-dormant heart beat twice inside my chest when I glanced over again.

  None jumped to respond and it didn’t take long to realize this was because they, too, had been entranced by her magic. There was just … something about her.

  “Anyone?” I said, hoping to prompt them to answer.

  Beside me, Silas blinked several times to regain his composure. “Uh … no, but … she has to be someone important. I mean, Pierce Cooper wouldn’t lend his time to just anyone.”

  “Pierce? Is he someone I should know?”

  Silas shrugged, and I noted that he and the others had yet to take their eyes off her. Whoever she was …

  “He’s Clifford Vol’s righthand guy,” Silas explained distractedly. “The research facility couldn’t run without him.”

  “Levi? Any guesses?” I asked next, only caring a little that I might sound a bit desperate at this point.

  Through my peripheral vision, I noticed him shake his head. “No, but I’d be willing to take one for the team, ask her to dinner to get whatever information I can,” he joked. “And, who knows … maybe breakfast the next morning if things go well. You know me. Always willing to do what I can to help out a friend.”

  I chuckled and made myself turn away. Pining over her from a distance wouldn’t do me any good.

  The others turned, too, dropping down onto three stools that lined the bar beside me.

  “Four shots of something strong,” Roman ordered, when the bartender asked what we’d have.

  Levi scanned my expression. “You seem bothered. What’s the problem?” he asked stupidly.

  I passed a look his way but said nothing, leaving him to guess.

  “What … Cecelia?”

  Again, I didn’t even bother answering.

  “What more could you ask for, Julian? Roman and Silas certainly don’t seem disappointed with their dates,” Levi reasoned.

  “Well, it probably doesn’t hurt that I don’t care one way or the other,” Roman rebutted with an indifferent grin, straightening the lapel of his jacket.

  Levi ignored the remark and started in on me again. “Cecelia’s beautiful, her family name carries weight, and she’s on your level, Julian. And let’s face it, the only thing more pathetic than showing up to one of these events with some dog-faced nobody, would be coming alone,” he reasoned. “So just admit that I saved you embarrassment by fixing you up with Cecelia, and we’ll call it even.” His usual devious grin was present.