Jin kept an eye out for Rose Ashby. Though a line had begun to form at the door, most of the vampires loitered beneath the fractured stars, deep in conversation. Jin had seen his fair share of the undead on Spindrift’s floor, but he’d never seen this many and in so posh a setting, no different than a ball on Admiral Grove.
He bit his tongue to stop from spiraling down another memory: his mother in a dress as pink as the sky’s first blush, his father in a suit sharper than his cheekbones, their hands clasped, their conversation rife with blood and needles and bacteria and teasing, even en route to a dinner party.
A hush fell when a girl of twenty started up the path to the Athereum doors, her hair the same vibrant red as her voluminous skirts, drawing every eye that wasn’t already on her. Jin’s heart squeezed. This was it.
“Rose,” Jin said, stepping past a pair of vampires to catch her eye.
She stopped walking, the billow of her skirts coming to a halt. Dread fleeted across her brow. “Jin? Are you turned?”
“Not yet, love,” Jin said. “I don’t like the idea of never savoring a pastry again.”
Had she been any other vampire, he would have chosen his words with more care.
“Oh,” she said, envy wrapped around the word. “Are you here with someone, then?”
“I’m not,” Jin admitted, and cast a glance around the garden. “Or rather, I was, before I was abandoned.”
Rose laughed, a tinkling that drew them unneeded attention. “I find it hard to believe anyone would leave you, Jin.”
The words struck him with a pang.
“If you can give me a name, I can go looking,” she offered.
“That wouldn’t be necessary, really,” Jin said, and then, as if he’d just had the thought, he added: “Although I am much more in favor of seeing the sights than leaving without the night I was promised.”
“Sweet Jin, I would be your date if I didn’t already have arrangements,” she said, and Jin didn’t think the sympathy in her tone was false. That was what he liked about Rose. He looked away, mustering as much of a sulk as he could.
He could almost feel Arthie’s gaze from the crowd, counting every precious second. The line into the Athereum shuffled forward, and if this took any longer, they’d be the only ones left for the doorkeeper to scrutinize.
“But if you’re here for the night you seem to be alluding to, you wouldn’t need me, would you?” Rose asked. Her expression spoke of devilry. “You only need to reach the right wing.”
“So I’ve heard,” Jin said. He had every intention of avoiding the right wing and its dedication to debauchery. He cast a look at the light spilling from the Athereum’s double doors. The hope and longing he conjured was only partially a lie. “I need to get inside the Athereum for that.”
She paused, a furrow in her brow. He’d spoken the words too quickly, hadn’t he? It was the pressure, the worry, the weight of this night as heavy as the clouds in the sky. She knew he was a Casimir. She knew the mischief he and Arthie were about.
And if someone like Rose Ashby could get him inside without a hitch, no one would doubt her if she sounded an alarm either.
Come on, Rose. Come on.
With a sprightly laugh, Rose held out her arm, and Jin exhaled in relief. “Well then, allow me the honors.”
He took it, calming the restlessness in his limbs as they joined the slow-moving line. Before long, the pair of them were bathed in gold before the doorkeeper, Elise Thorne, and Jin was once again grateful that he’d run into the other sister at the Thornes’ house on Admiral Grove.
Matteo had been spot-on with his descriptions and depictions. It was exactly as Jin had imagined. He watched as Rose dropped her marker through the slot and introduced him as her human date for the night. Elise chastised her for not having him vetted, ignoring him like he was some brainless arm candy, and Rose apologized in good form. When the bouncer finally frisked him down, he had to bite his tongue against a comment or two.
And then he was in.
Jin stopped just inside the doors to leisurely button up his jacket and scan the space at the same time. The area was lit by lamps shaped like open palms gripping bulbs, the walls a deep, dark crimson patterned in damasks. Eerie, but fitting. Farther inside, there were silk-wrapped settees, tufted cushions, and scattered armchairs. He saw vampires sitting far too close to one another, others lounging with flutes of crimson. There was a quartet playing cards and another tittering over an engagement ring.
Wicked knives, he was inside the Athereum.
Something clinked beneath his right foot. He glanced down to the lacquered wood floors and saw the pair of channels set feet apart and covered in glass, just as Matteo had said. As he stood there, two markers shot in the direction of the archive room. A lone, freestanding accent wall rose up ahead, bedazzled with pearled tiles behind a massive flowerpot.
The marker archives room was just beyond it to the right. The mezzanine extended high up on his left, letting in the cool night air. On it, the dormer guard was pacing back and forth.
There will be at least one blind spot, Arthie had said. They’re not worried about anyone messing with the chutes once they’re already inside.
Easy for her to say.
Jin tracked the guard’s line of sight, trying to find Arthie’s blind spot. He needed to get to the other side of the freestanding wall. If only that toxin lasted longer than ten minutes. She could shoot the guard now, and Jin would have more freedom to wander around.
“Don’t worry about him,” Rose said, following Jin’s gaze to the guard. “He can make the foyer feel like a prison. Let’s get to the party.”
Jin laughed. “I think I ought to sit down for a bit. Feeling a tad overwhelmed. Never thought I’d be here in the Athereum, you know.”
That, at least, wasn’t a lie. She gave him a look. Ah, she’d forgotten he wasn’t a vampire.
“This way,” she said, gesturing toward the small alcove beneath the guard’s mezzanine. Perfect.
It’ll be empty ninety-nine percent of the time because the fun is inside, not in the foyer, and no one likes to be watched, Matteo had said.
At least not by a guard, Jin had thought.
Rose led him to the settee and released his arm. Jin held on.
“Thank you, Rose.” Of the emotions he’d displayed since meeting her tonight, this one he meant, and he hoped she could see as much.
“No,” she said with a bittersweet smile. “I will always have you to thank, Jin.”
Such a strange thing, to be appreciated by a woman for killing her beloved brother.
He sat down. Rose disappeared down the hall.
Jin took off his specs and got to work.