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Smoothly, I stepped in front of Bianca.
“Another dance?” I asked. “I’d like to converse with you a little more, get to know you.” I used my most seductive voice, one that implied I had but one thing in mind, even if I’d just met her. I couldn’t let King Maximus see that I felt anything more than lust for a female—a beautiful stranger I would be more than glad to ravish, not someone I knew, someone who captured my interest deeply and truly.
As I stood in front of her, my back to the King, I placed a finger under her chin and forced her eyes to meet mine.
“Calm down,” I mouthed, gripping her left hand and squeezing.
I pulled her close, roughly, and spun her in a circle, dancing as exuberantly as the other couples, slowly guiding her toward the door. She fought me, her body stiff, her attention going back to the King and her friend every time I twirled her in a different direction.
As I circled, I allowed myself one glance toward Maximus. His gaze was luckily not on Bianca, but on me. He gave me a complicit smile as if he approved of my less-than-proper behavior toward a lady.
Still holding her close by the waist, I released Bianca’s hand and thumbed her lower lip, wiping away the blood. This daring move finally brought her gaze to mine. I nodded slightly and held up my thumb for her to see. She blinked in surprise. Her tongue darted out, licking at the small wound. My insides tightened at the moisture she left behind. I inhaled sharply and twirled her once more, tearing my gaze from her sensuous mouth.
When we made it to the door, I pulled her out of the ballroom, my arm firm around her back. I resisted the urge to look back once more and see if the King’s interest was still on us.
Bianca walked with stuttering steps as she resisted my pull, but I managed to guide her to a closed door I hadn’t noticed when I first passed through here. The knob turned as I twisted it.
Making sure the room was empty, I bullied her inside, feeling terrible about treating her this way, though, for all intents and purposes, I was saving her life. I shut the door behind us and pressed her against the wall, caging her in with my body.
“Please,” I pleaded in her ear, not daring to say anything else for fear the King could hear through walls.
She fought me, but only weakly. Tearing away the mask, she threw it to the floor and wiped tears from her eyes. All over again, I was taken by the beauty of her features: her small nose, high cheekbones, and perfect eyebrows. My hands ached to caress her face, but I kept them at my sides.
Her chest heaved, trapping errant sobs, keeping them hidden from anyone’s enhanced hearing. I nodded, letting her know she was doing the right thing, waiting for her to rein in the jumble of emotions that must be wreaking havoc inside her. I could only imagine the courage it took for her to come here. Bloodshade or not, the Black and White Courts were no place for a Trove.
When she finally got her emotions under control, I slowly pulled away. It wasn’t easy. I wanted to stay close to her. In fact, I wanted to—
I shook my head, pressed a finger to my lips, even though it was clear she knew to keep quiet.
Removing my own mask, I turned and glanced around more carefully. We were in a drawing room from the looks of it. Several fully-lit, four-arm candelabra stood in the corners, casting a warm light on the gilded sofas and chairs, marble-top tables, and the large fireplace in the back wall.
A portrait painted in dark hues sat atop the mantel, its surface reflecting the light. I stared at it, wondering who it could be.
“King Brun,” Bianca said behind me as if she’d read the question from my mind. “I saw a similar portrait at the museum once.” Her voice shook a little, but she managed to cage in the bulk of her emotions.
I glanced down at her, then back at the portrait. So this was King Maximus’s predecessor—the vampire he had killed in order to get the black throne.
Like those paintings I’d seen in the foyer earlier, the man in this one appeared human. He cut an impressive figure and appeared tall and broad, far stronger than Maximus did. I scrutinized him longer than I should have, until a certain edge appeared on his face, something cold and wicked that reminded me of the Black King himself.
The sound of Bianca’s steps behind me broke me out of the trance. I turned. She stopped in front of a small table, looking down at a wine bottle and glasses set atop it. I imagined that at some point when the night grew older and the guests grew tired of dancing, they would file in here to lounge and taste the wine.
Bianca’s attention shifted, her head swiveling toward a door in the far corner. She glanced back at me, then headed for the door. She was here to spy too, it seemed. I picked up her mask from the floor and followed her lead.
Very slowly, she opened the door to a long, dimly lit hall. We left the drawing room and closed the door behind us. Dozens of doors lay close at either side. I moved toward the first one and tried to turn the knob. It didn’t move. Sounds came from within, giggles and bedroom voices. Bianca and I exchanged a glance. Her cheeks turned red. Her bosom rose and fell, and I couldn’t help but notice.
I turned, pushing away the instincts stirring inside of me, and tried the door across the hall. This one opened, revealing a bedroom lit by hundreds of candles, its bed topped with a white duvet and sprinkled with red petals.
Come in, the room seemed to say.
I slammed the door shut and avoided glancing in Bianca’s direction, shoving away the sudden desire to push her onto the bed and rip her dress off. My own lust surprised me. No one had ever had this effect on me, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
We marched deeper into the hall, passing closed doors, not daring to open them. They all seemed the same and likely were.
Timotei’s room had been on the first floor before, but he’d been moved. Rook Sanda had made sure to inform me shortly after I became Fourth Pawn. “The King dares you to try to find your brother again,” the Rook had told me, a glint of cruel joy in his eyes.
Where could he be now?
Impotence filled my chest, making me feel like raging, like tearing all the candles off the wall and setting fire to this place, if only I’d be able to find my brother before everything burned down.
Bianca was looking up at me, I suddenly realized. There was a question in her eyes and, for the first time, I wondered why she was back here with me. I was a Black Pawn, and she belonged to the White Court. She was unaware of my reasons for being here and yet she trusted me when she should have been afraid.
I took her hand, interlaced my fingers with hers. Together, we pressed forward. No words, only quiet glances, and slight nods.
Two paths forked from the corridor when we reached its end. They were lined with windows that faced the backwoods. We’d traversed the width of the palace. We turned left, kept walking. I took mental notes, memorizing everything.
I searched for stairs to go up or down to other levels. I saw none.
They must be hidden, I realized.
A place like this must have secret doors and passages, levers that made walls slide out of the way. But how could I find them? The palace was so big. It would take days, weeks or more if one didn’t know where to look.
My frustration grew. I took a deep breath, let it out through clenched teeth.
Bianca tugged at my arm, her beautiful face bathed in the moonlight shining through the windows. Her eyes wavered with sympathy as if she could read my frustration and understand what caused it.
She took a step back, tentatively guiding me the way we’d come. I followed her, turning corners, passing landmarks we’d seen before. Like me, she’d memorized our path. As we went, she put her mask back on and tied it with a delicate knot as I watched her hands move dexterously. I replaced my mask as well.
We made it back to the first drawing room. A few people were there now, drinking wine, laughing. They didn’t pay us any mind as we passed, likely assuming we’d been using one of the many bedrooms down the corridor.
When we exited the room, Bianca got ahead of me, hurried to the stairs, and descended them on light feet, her entire body looking as if she wished to fly out of here, soar like a bird through the opened front doors.
I followed, wishing we could fly away together, disappearing past all the walls that kept us imprisoned.