Verum (The Nocte Trilogy 2)

“Some things are best left alone,” he reminds me at my door.

“But what it…”

He shakes his head, interrupting me.

“Trust me.”

I wish I could.

But he did a terrible thing.

And I have to know.

Chapter 22

When I stare into the mirror, a woman looks back. A woman draped in red silk, a woman with thick lashes and full lips.

“You look beautiful,” Finn tells me as he straightens the clasp of my necklace.

“Thank you, but anyone would look good in this dress.”

He can’t argue because he’s not real.

“What do you think will happen tonight? A dance? A sacrifice? Will you have to drink goat’s blood or bathe with a thousand virgins?”

I roll my eyes.

“Doubtful. But if you were here, you’d have to do the Macarena.”

He grabs his chest and falls onto the bed. “I would refuse.”

“Then it’s a good thing you aren’t here.”

“You’ve got this,” he announces. “Even without me.”

I’m not so sure.

But I have no choice other than to just go.

I find the great room and discover that it’s been transformed into a ballroom.

It’s draped with white tulle and sparkling lights, with candles and pungent flowers.

I find Eleanor, dressed in a conservative black dress and pearls, chatting with a small group of men in suits. Her lip is as stiff as her back, and I decide she must never relax. I scan the room for the most important face, and it doesn’t take long to find him.

Dare is in the back, sitting at a table in the shadows.

He’s here just like he promised.

He’s watching me, his dark gaze impenetrable. In his black tux, he’s impossibly handsome and I find I can’t look away.

He’s got a glass tumbler in his hand and he sips at the amber liquid, and it looks to be something strong, like scotch.

My breath is shallow and I can’t quite catch it. I take a step in his direction, then another, then I pause. Because his expression is so unreadable.

Without breaking our gaze, he thunks the glass down on the nearest side-table, and then turns his back, walking to the open veranda doors. He steps into the night, and I desperately want to follow him.

Not just because I want to be with him, but because it’s away from here, away from Eleanor, away from the prying stares of the people who are wondering who I am.