A Dance with Darkness
Page 3

 Courtney Allison Moulton

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It took quite an effort not to guzzle the whole bowl without using a spoon. He was right, though, as he was about everything.
He brought the washbasin to the table and dipped a rag into the water. He lifted the rag and squeezed out the excess water before wiping the blood from my healed skin. “You’re lucky I have such a convenient friendship with a dressmaker. Tell me what happened.”
“I followed one back to a chandler’s shop,” I said between mouthfuls of soup. “Right into an ambush.”
He dunked the rag into the bowl. My blood swirled in the water. “How many were there?” He wiped at more blood.
“I killed six and kept one alive, but he didn’t talk.”
“Did you torture him for information?” He gave me a serious look.
I glared at him. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
“One who gets her job done.”
“Nathaniel,” I murmured crossly. He was my dearest friend—my only friend—but sometimes he took the business side of our relationship a little too seriously.
“There have been over two dozen powerful demonic reapers to arrive at court in the last month,” he said. “We have to find out why they are here before they outnumber the humans at court.”
“Do you think they’re here to pick off the nobles one by one for their souls? To completely annihilate the English court?”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shrugged. “I can’t say, but the situation is quickly becoming dire. We need more forces.”
“What about the Preliator?” I asked. “Can’t we call for her?”
“She’s in Africa,” he replied. “I saw Berengar not two weeks ago and he told me she was in Ghadames. It would take her and her Guardian months of travel by sea and land to get here. We’re on our own until then.”
“I thought her Guardian was dead.”
“This is a new one.”
“Ah,” I said dimly. It was an enormous honor to be chosen by the archangel Michael to become the guardian of a relic, but the greatest honor was to be Guardian of the Preliator, the most powerful creature on Earth and the only one able to wield angelfire. She was reincarnated each time she was killed in battle, but it was her Guardian’s duty to protect her mortal vessel. The honor was the greatest indeed, but it also came with a very short life expectancy.
“Did anything else happen?” Nathaniel asked as he finished up and dropped the rag in the bowl.
“Bastian was there.”
His eyebrows lifted in curiosity.
“Bastian did not engage, but I’m sure he orchestrated the meeting between the demonic. He left before I could fight him.” What I didn’t say was that Bastian had let me live. I wouldn’t have stood a chance against him after that battle. Though I ached to know why he spared me, especially after I killed his underlings, I wanted even more to know what he was doing in London.
“His presence isn’t unexpected,” Nathaniel said. “There will be a ball held at Lockmoore Castle tomorrow night. A masquerade ball. Evantia has apparently purchased this castle and is living there. She is rumored to be in charge of the demonic at court.”
“Evantia,” I repeated grimly. She was even more infamous than Bastian. He did her dirty work. I should have known if he showed up, she would not be too far away.
“You don’t sound surprised,” Nathaniel noted.
“Of course if Bastian is in London, his mistress would be too.”
“The masquerade allows us an opportunity to infiltrate,” he continued. “You are our best fighter and so I think it should be you alone. There’s too much risk in sneaking in a group. I imagine humans will be in attendance, but don’t be surprised if the castle is full of only the demonic. I know you can handle it, Maddie.”
Infiltrate a demonic masked ball? This sounded like possibly the most dangerous mission I’d ever undertaken and possibly ever would.
3
NATHANIEL HAD ARRANGED FOR ME TO ARRIVE AT Lockmoore Castle in a carriage. I preferred to sneak my way in through a servants’ entrance or a hidden passageway, but Nathaniel was sure I’d be detected. Better I waltz in as if I’d been invited, but not attract attention. Blend in. The demonic in attendance would be less suspicious of me if they saw me arrive rather than appear out of nowhere. They would know I was a reaper, but if I kept to myself, no one should be alerted of my more celestial heritage.
The swing of the horses’ gaits pulling the carriage along gave me something to focus on so I wouldn’t work myself into a panic. I was stepping barefoot into the vipers’ den. But if I succeeded in deciphering the motives of the demonic, then we could run them out of town, or more preferably wipe them out. But as my driver pulled into the path leading up to the house and I spied the vast numbers of the demonic elite filing into the castle entrance, my nerves tightened and my heartbeat raced. I drew a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs until they could stretch no more, and I held it, prolonging the moment when I’d have to let it all go and abandon the safety of the carriage.
I still held my breath as we rolled to a stop and my driver hopped down from his perch, his boots padding softly on the well-trod dirt. He lifted the latch on the door and swung it open to let the fresh air, voices, and music rush into me. He lifted a hand to mine to help me down the unsteady carriage steps to the ground. I lifted my skirts—made of a deep violet brocade threaded with silvery green detail—as I walked, and then let them trail behind me as I continued up to the castle. My mask, simple with violet plumage and the same silvery green thread, concealed most of my face and would hopefully prevent me from being recognized. My dark hair was braided and knotted in a net of matching thread and pearls. I wondered why Nathaniel had given me such a beautiful and striking costume. There were too many pairs of eyes fixed on me.