23
Lucius
“No … I just had it.” The man with the lime green mask leans over and peers into the bushes by his greeting station as I tuck his iPad into my jacket.
This was easier than I thought. A little misdirection, and now I have the keys to this fucked-up kingdom.
Edging away, I skirt around the fountain as Lime Green, panic in his tone, calls to the sentries out front. “Did anyone come through here?”
I keep going into the foyer, a skip in my step. Now all I need to do is collect Evie and get the fuck out of this shark tank.
When I enter the ballroom, I see the Sovereign up front on a small stage. A gasp goes through the crowd—everyone looking at something up ahead and to the right.
A sinking feeling swirls in my gut, and I edge my way forward. I can’t find Evie. Even in this dim room with everyone in masks, I would know her the moment I saw her. But she isn’t here.
“Charles?” Beau Corrigan calls from his spot at the front of the room. “What are you—”
“She’s with him! With Lucius Vinemont!”
The people in the room hiss, and some even cross themselves unironically. I push my way forward until I see her. That blond motherfucker has one arm around her waist, squeezing her against him as he walks her forward. He’s surprisingly spry for a man who was holding his guts in his hand only hours ago.
“Charles, I believe you’re mistaken. Come, let’s talk about this.” Beau steps from the stage and hurries through the crowd.
Charles is bruised and bloodied, a white bandage wrapped around his middle.
“Get your hands off me!” Evie stomps Charles’s foot.
“Shit.” He shakes her like a doll, but he doesn’t let her go. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
If I didn’t already intend to kill this man, those words would’ve sealed it. No one speaks to her that way.
“Move.” Beau steps in front of them. “Now, Charles, please release Evie. She’s our guest.”
“She’s a fucking traitor. I saw her with Lucius. She helped him.”
Beau frowns, his ridiculous feathery mask drooping a bit. “Is that true, Evie?”
“Of course it’s true.” She struggles against Charles’s hold. “How do you think I’m going to take him down? I have to get close to him.”
“Bullshit.” Charles grabs her hair and pulls it.
She shrieks, and I tense to strike.
“Charles! I demand you release her this instant!” Beau bellows.
Charles glowers, but he puts her on her feet. She sways for a moment, then moves to stand by Beau. Smart.
“She’s lying.” Charles presses his hand to the bandage at his waist. “They’re together. She helped him do this to me.” He tilts his head up and scans the crowd. “He’s here.”
“Lucius?” Beau asks.
The fear in his tone is so satisfying, just like the whoosh of dismay rippling through the crowd. Some are already slipping out into the foyer, perhaps fearing a repeat of five years ago.
“Yes, Lucius is here.” He turns toward the quartet. “Knock that shit off! Everyone, turn on the lights. Take off your masks!”
“Charles, please.” Beau strides to him. “You’re embarrassing me.” He hisses.
Evie backs away. She’s limping, her foot probably killing her right now.
“I’m saving your goddamn life.” Charles glares at him.
I follow her trajectory as she tries to melt into the small crowd.
“Masks off now!” Charles yells as the lights overhead flicker to life.
Fuck. I cut through a group of people and get to Evie.
When I touch her, she somehow knows it’s me, because she leans into me.
“We have to get out of here,” she whispers, her eyes huge beneath the mask. “If they see you…”
“I know.” I take her hand and pull her away from Charles, away from the people who are removing their masks.
We’re almost to the foyer when the doors slam closed.
I skid to a stop and turn.
“Shit.” I pull Evie behind me.
The entire room is staring at us. Maskless faces with hearts full of spite.
Charles stalks through the middle of them, parting them like a cursed red sea. “There. You see? She’s whoring herself out to a fucking Vinemont.”
I whip my mask off and toss it to the floor. The gasp that quakes through the room is once again, so, so gratifying. “I’m going to make you eat those words right along with this knife.” I pull out my blade.
Charles brandishes the same knife I used to stab him. “You aren’t leaving here with her.”
“You aren’t leaving here at all.” I itch to destroy him, but I wait. He needs to move a little closer, deeper into the spider’s web.
“How did you get in here?” Beau jogs up behind Charles, his eyes practically popping out of his pale face.
“Does it matter?” I smirk. “Just send your little fuckboy over here so I can put him out of his misery. I hate leaving a job unfinished.” I point the tip of my knife at the blood blooming along his bandaged midsection.