A tall man with unruly black hair and a dark complexion stood at the edge of the dance floor idly swishing a glass of wine. When I came close to the floor his dark eyes swept over me, and he sauntered over. “May I have this dance?” he briskly asked me.
“I-I can’t really-” He didn’t wait for me to finish before he wrapped his arm around me and whisked me onto the dance floor. I blushed and tried to pull from his grasp, but he held me with all the strength of an alpha werewolf. That didn’t stop me from growling at him. “Do you mind?”
“No, do you?” he teasingly wondered. There was something familiar, and irritating, about this guy.
I clenched my teeth so hard the noise could have been heard through the noisy crowd to the south of us. “Yes, now let me go or-”
“A little quieter or they’ll hear you,” he warned me.
I frowned and glanced around. There was a crowd growing on the outskirts of the dance floor, but I didn’t see anyone suspicious among the masked people. “Who will hear me?” I asked him.
“The spies from the patrols,” he whispered. I whipped my head up to him and my mouth fell open. He smirked. “Don’t be surprised. I keep tabs on all the criminals in my city.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned him.
He chuckled and leaned down so his lips brushed against my ear. “It means I know you’re Rebecca Laughton.” I felt the color drain from my face. “You don’t have to worry about me. The trouble you’ve been making hasn’t affected my interests.”
I pulled back and scowled at him. “I’m not a criminal,” I protested.
He smirked and shrugged. “That’s not what the rumors in my city have told me,” he countered.
“What makes you think this is your city?” I snapped at him.
“Owe, just some investments here, there, and everywhere in-between,” he replied. His eyes swept over me, but I wasn’t flattered. “I might want to invest in other places, too,” he hinted. The man chuckled at his own joke until I stabbed my heels into his toes. He winced, but didn’t release me. “Do you have two left feet?” he asked me.
“And a lead heel,” I added. “Besides, I tried to tell you I couldn’t dance.”
He smirked. “Oh, you’re not doing too bad a job. I know I’m enjoying myself.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking, but I’m already taken,” I growled. I glanced at the growing crowds around the dance floor, but didn’t spot my missing mate. More and more couples joined in the dance and soon we couldn’t twirl without brushing against another pairing.
“I know, Lord Laughton has you, but I can’t resist a pretty face,” he cooed. He lifted his mask just slightly and showed off the face of a dashing man a little older than Luke. “And I’m sure you can’t resist me.”
My face fell and my tone became so dry my mouth felt like a desert. “I bet I can,” I challenged him.
The man’s face twisted into surprise. “Don’t you know me?” he asked me.
I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “No, should I?”
“Yes, but you won’t recognize him for long,” a voice spoke up. Luke sprang from the crowd of dancers and slammed his fist into the side of my partner’s face. The man flew back a yard and slid along the floor a few more, colliding with a half dozen pairings and causing a chain reaction of collapsing dresses and puffy suits.
Luke wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed me against his side. His lips curled back and he growled at the man as the stranger struggled to his feet. The guy wasn’t happy, at least judging by his balled fists and quivering shoulders. “I don’t care if you are a lord, nobody touches me and doesn’t get as good as he gave!” the man roared.
The man dove at us, but Stacy stepped between us with a masked, wizened old lady at her side. Stacy crossed her arms and the man skidded to a stop in front of them. “That’s enough, Cal,” she scolded him. My eyes widened, and I whipped my head between Luke and the stranger. I’d just stomped on the fee of Frederick Callean, the richest and most powerful man in the city.
Callean opened his mouth, but the masked old lady took a threatening step forward. I realized then that it was Leonor, and she wasn’t happy. He clacked his teeth shut and glared over their heads at Luke. “You’re not worth the trouble you’re causing around here, Laughton,” he snapped.
“That’s enough, Cal,” Stacy warned. She slid up to him and looped her arm through his. Stacy turned to the gaping crowds and smiled at them. “You all know how Cal is. He always like to be the life of the party,” she joked.
A laugh rippled through the crowd and Stacy led Cal off the floor. She wound her way through the crowd with Leonor in tow and us close behind. Luke looked like he’d rather walk us both off a cliff rather than follow Cal anywhere, but we had more important things to do than a lover’s suicide. Stacy guided our group into the entrance hall, and from there she took a right down a hall beneath the right side of the grand staircase.
The hallway was narrow with wood panels and doors on either side of us. Stacy walked forward until we were at the back of the house where stood an exit out onto the wonderful gardens. The sun had set and outside was a veil of darkness wrapped in a chilly wind with clouds to top off the cool night. Stacy opened the door to her right and shoved Cal ahead of her. Stacy and Leonor were in front of Luke and me, and I peeked around them to see the room was an old-fashioned study. Bookshelves lined every wall and at the far back was a large, paneled window looking out on the grounds. In front of the window was a large wooden desk with a cushioned chair with its back facing us.
Cal swung around and glared at the four of us. His eyes flashed with anger and his hands were clenched at his sides. “Is this some kind of conspiracy?” he growled.
Stacy strode into the room and took a seat on the corner of the desk. “Yes, but we’re not in on it,” she replied. The rest of us stepped inside and Luke shut the door behind us.
“Mind making sense?” he demanded.
Leonor stomped up to her son and looked him in the chest. He was a lot taller than her. “Don’t you dare talk to Stazia that way!” she growled. She growled just like her son, and vice versa. Emphasis on the vice. Callean rolled his eyes, and she tore off her mask to show off her angered wrinkles. “And don’t you dare roll your eyes at your mother,” she snapped.
Cal threw up his arms and took on a less genteel accent. He sounded like a rough gangster just off the streets. “What are you even doing here, Ma? Didn’t you tell me you were going to stay home and wash your eyes of newt?” he quipped.
“And let Stazia get herself into trouble alone? Not likely,” she huffed. Luke and I glanced at each other. We wouldn’t have called ourselves non-company.
Stacy removed her mask and showed she had a troubled expression on her face. “Cal’s in a lot more trouble than we are. Isn’t that what your note told us?” she asked the old woman.
Leonor raised an eyebrow. “Note? What note?”
Stacy’s voice held a hint of panic. “The note about Cal going to be assassinated by Cranston.”
The old woman wrinkled her nose. “Cranston? Your father’s secretary? What’s he got to do with this?” she wondered.
Stacy’s eyes widened and she whipped her eyes over to Luke. “Then the note-”
“Was a fake?” a voice asked. The chair swiveled around to reveal Cranston seated in it with his fingers intertwined on his lap. He didn’t have a scent on him which explained how none of us knew he was there.
Luke grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door, but it slammed open and a half dozen patrols swept into the room. All of them wore a red armband. They grabbed us and pinned our arms behind our backs, then turned us toward Cranston still seated in the chair. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave. You see, you’re very important to my plan tonight.”
“To kill Cal?” Stacy guessed.
Cranston wrinkled his nose. “Oh, not just kill. Kill is such a base word,” he argued.
“Then it fits you,” I quipped.
He chuckled. “How very entertaining, but I prefer the term assassination. That’s why it was in the note I sent you.”
Luke frowned. “Another fake note?” he guessed.
Cranston gave a nod. “Yes, and you fell for it just as easily as the first one. Didn’t you ever stop to think that if we knew Miss Stevens’ secret messaging to you then we could easily find her connections and repeat the ruse?”
“I’ll have to remember that the next time I receive a message,” Luke replied.
Cranston clucked his tongue and stood. “I’m afraid there won’t be a next time. Well, unless the message is from your attorney, that is.”
Luke frowned. “Attorney?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Cranston replied as he sauntered around the side of the desk. “You see, I could have my men kill you right now, but that would make you a martyr for the green cause, and we can’t have that. You see, I, and your brother Lance, have something much better planned for you.”