Erthri — damnit, Tzanith — glanced to the center of the hall as more people started to gather there.

  “Do you know how to dance, my lord?”

  “I learned,” I muttered and folded my arms. I was half distracted trying to figure out how many monsters were hiding in the crowd. “Most of twenty years ago.”

  The elf’s eyes narrowed in amusement. “So long?”

  I shrugged. I’d learned how to dance in Rosanna’s court, but she’d kept me around to scare her vassals, not to waltz competently. There’d been some functions after I joined the Table as well, times when I needed to mingle with the houseborn, but it certainly wasn’t a passion of mine.

  Tzanith held out a hand, fingers outstretched and palm facing forward. I stared at that hand with trepidation.

  “I will lead,” she promised me. “Being a wallflower will only draw attention, and this will make it easier to talk without eavesdroppers.”

  I took the hand and let her lace her fingers through mine. She had long, thin fingers — artist’s fingers. They were cool to the touch, but not cold, and tingled like she were some charged apparatus in an alchemist’s laboratory.

  I relented, and the elf tugged me along as we melded into the dance. There must have been near three hundred people in the room already, and that number would only grow as the night lengthened.

  “You’re not that bad,” Tzanith said after a few minutes.

  She wasn’t a shy partner, pressing her slim body against mine as we moved through the same motions as those around us in time to the music. I felt huge and clumsy next to the elf, who moved with a literally inhuman grace that I could feel through our contact. I knew she was slowing herself down on my account.

  “I’m a swordsman,” I said. “Footwork is important in both, so it’s not like I’m afraid of tripping over myself. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  I glanced away. “Embarrassing.”

  “That’s a sight to see.” Tzanith’s cervid eyes narrowed in quiet mirth. “The Headsman of Seydis, blushing.”

  “I’d rather you keep it between us. My reputation wouldn’t survive.”

  “Why does it embarrass you?” Tzanith asked as I twirled her. When I shrugged, she clucked her tongue. “Come now, I wish to know!”

  “I wasn’t born into the nobility,” I admitted. “When I first started participating in these kinds of gatherings, I felt like an oaf, and I guess part of me also thought it looked foolish, seeing all these painted aristos twirling like pixies. That’s how I felt back then, anyway.”

  “And now?” Tzanith asked.

  I remembered standing guard while Rosanna trained with her tutors. She’d danced until her feet bled, and even after.

  “It takes a lot of skill and hard work,” I said. “Just like it’s not easy to use court speech under pressure without giving offense, or recall the heraldry of every House in a whole realm by memory. I’ve learned more appreciation for all the pomp and ceremony, and I don’t think it’s foolish anymore. I just don’t like feeling clumsy.”

  “You are not clumsy,” Tzanith said. “I think you only pretend to be the brute.”

  “If people think I’m only good for hacking at problems with a blade, then they underestimate me.”

  In truth, I’d brushed up on my courtly skills during my year at Garihelm. I’d known I might need to participate in functions just like this one, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself. There were many things I’d become rusty at during my years as a vagabond.

  It would be easier to just let Finn Nu take over — somehow I knew, instinctively, that he was an elegant dancer. But I didn’t want to get lost in him again, not when we were surrounded by threats like Marcion and an unknown number of other potential enemies.

  Tzanith didn’t respond at first, and I felt something in her hold change as we danced. The tension was subtle, but it altered her step, made it harder for me to keep up so I had to put more focus on the movements.

  “I am sorry,” I said. “For whatever it’s worth.”

  Tzanith glanced at me sidelong and pursed her lips. “Is Alken sorry, or Finn Nu?”

  “I am sorry,” I said more firmly. “What I said to you… It was cruel.”

  “Yes. You were.” Her voice held a noticeable edge.

  “I can be cruel,” I said with the air of confession. “Especially when people try to trick me. I have a history of letting myself be betrayed.”

  Her voice had a slight quaver to it. “This is twice now you’ve rejected me. I think I might hate you, Alken Hewer.”

  “I’m not sorry for that,” I told her.

  When her expression hardened, I continued before the glamour could distract me — the theater of it wanted me to leave things there, to let us wallow in misunderstanding, but I refused that. I wasn’t going to make an enemy because this damn magic thought it would add to its narrative.

  “I’m not sorry for setting a boundary with you and your queen, Lady Tzanith.”

  “And yet you apologize?” She asked, sounding confused.

  “Some of my comments were out of line,” I admitted. “You have been an ally to us, back at your queen’s court and now. We’re on the same side, whatever my disagreements with Maerlys, and I don’t think we’d have gotten this far were it not for your help. Not without more blood.”

  “Well.” Her words were clipped. “You have said it, my lord.”

  I nodded. “Are you going to curse me?”

  That seemed to bring a smile to her eyes again. “I have not yet decided. And I’m not sorry for striking you. How dare you compare me to a demon?”

  I recalled then that Tzanith’s mother had been devoured by demons, and felt some shame. That chagrin was tempered by the fact that she’d tried to take advantage of me while I was confused by the equivalent of a magical drug. It wasn’t out of the norm for faeries, but that didn’t mean I had to forgive it.

  But given our circumstances, I decided to extend an olive branch. “As a knight, I should offer a penance to you. Short of agreeing to your queen’s offer, what can I provide to balance the scales?”

  “Dangerous,” Tzanith murmured. “To owe a debt to one of the Sidhe.”

  “Just tell me.”

  She considered the offer as the music changed and we shifted into the next dance. Strange, but I didn’t see Erthri just then, even though she maintained that being’s appearance. Her hair was a mane of dark curls with white flowers woven into them, her gown thin and elegant in contrast to the more cumbersome outfits worn by many others present, done in shades of pale silvers running between blue and green. It showed off her neck and shoulders, darkened to bronze in her current disguise, though I knew Tzanith’s preferred form had a paler complexion, if not an entirely natural one.

  Hell, I was a knight. And there are some things worth saying aloud. “You look beautiful. I mean that.”

  Her brow knit. “But it doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t dislike you, Lady Tzanith. In fact, I think you’re probably one of the most honest and forthright faeries I’ve ever met. Even back at your father’s hall, you were the only one there who actually approached me with honest intentions, even if they were… forward.”

  “And yet,” she repeated. “I do not catch your eye.”

  “That’s not it. I just…” I sighed. “Not long ago, I had a relationship that I valued end badly.”

  “The malcathe?” She asked.

  “Please don’t call her that. I know it’s an insult.”

  “…Right. Yes, it is. I apologize.”

  I nodded. “I let her get close, even though I knew it was dangerous, and she paid the price for it. An enemy got to her, and it did… terrible things. She suffered, and I couldn’t help her.”

  Tzanith was quiet as we turned along with the surrounding dancers. Her expression remained closed.

  “It’s not just that,” I continued. “I have done some things I’m not proud of. I don’t really understand all the consequences yet, and between that and the fact that half the Onsolain consider me a threat… I’m being very cautious. Trying to learn from my mistakes.”

  “And you consider me a mistake?”

  “Your queen kidnapped my godson and tried to dominate my mind. I’m also suspicious about the true motive for this glamour. Neither do I like how she seems to be using you. And yes, I’m aware that human nobles do the same thing. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Tzanith gave me a direct look, and for a moment her right eye took on a brighter shade. “To repay the debt, I want you to forgive my queen.”

  My expression closed. “That’s asking a lot.”

  “Even so,” Tzanith said in an equally firm voice. “She has taken the burden of my people’s pains upon herself. It might seem monstrous to mortal eyes, but she is a worthy monarch and one I am proud to serve. She made a bold play, you challenged her, and now you’ve taken the measure of one another.”

  Her voice softened. “Let it go. We both have enemies in abundance.”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled. To let that go… Was that monstrous in itself? Would it simply open the way for a repeat of the same trial? I wanted to be strong enough to fight every battle, to think of myself as the type to not forgive or forget evil. Wasn’t that what being a paladin meant? To fight all injustice?

  Part of me still wanted to be the knight, to fight the monsters, even though I’d long since accepted that I fought on behalf of monsters.

  I hated doubting. Doubting is slow death.

  “If that is your true request…” I said slowly.

  “It is.”

  “Then I will forgive it. But I won’t forget it.”

  Tzanith nodded. “I can accept that. And us?”

  I considered a moment. “Perhaps, one day — maybe sooner than later — I’ll need to bind myself to someone in the way your queen is asking. Maybe that one will even be you, Tzanith Balesdotter.”

  We turned, and I pulled her close in a firm enough motion that she gasped softly. Perhaps there was a bit of Finn Nu in that, but the words I whispered into her ear were all me.

  “But Maerlys will never be my liege. I will never let either of you own me. I’ve already been down that road, and my loyalties remain where they are.”

  Tzanith’s cheek almost brushed mine as we looked past one another. In one of the windows on the hall’s western face, I saw Finn Nu looking back at me. He wore the expression of a different man. An angrier man, a less happy one.

  I’d made my choices. I would not hide from them behind another face.

  Tzanith lowered her face, so her nose almost brushed my shoulder. “I doubt my loyalty to a mate will ever surpass my devotion to my queen. I would not have understood that when we first met, I think.”

  Such a short time for an elf to change, but we were in a time of change. I’d seen stranger things.

  “So we are at an impasse?” Tzanith asked me.

  “Maybe not.” I glanced at her sidelong as the music came to a brief pause, all the dancers locking their steps as though caught in a moment of frozen time. “We don’t have to be wedded to be allies.”

  She sniffed. “Naive. That is not how either the nobility of my kind or yours work. There must be collateral.”

  “I’m not talking about anything formal,” I assured her. “You help me when you can, I do the same for you, and we cooperate so long as it doesn’t infringe on either of our loyalties.”

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  Tzanith snorted, and might have suppressed a fit of laughter. “Are you asking me to be your friend, Alken Hewer?”

  “And why not?” I asked. “It’s hard enough to find those, for people like us.”

  The music started again. Tzanith was quiet as we moved into the next steps. The Dusk Dance was almost over, and after that the partners would shift, the ceremony growing more complex.

  “I will consider it,” she said at last.

  Just then there came a change in the music, and the arrangement of the dance floor began to shuffle, partners being traded to the command of a keening violin.

  “Excuse me.”

  We glanced to the side. As we’d talked, we had stepped outside of the circle of dancers so we didn’t get trampled on, though we remained right at the edge. Marcion’s wife, Selene, was smiling beatifically at us.

  “I would like to dance with your elf,” she said, blushing fiercely through her makeup. “May I?”

  Marcion of Kell chatted with another group away from the dancers. I glanced at Tzanith, raising an eyebrow, and saw she had the same thought. Dangerous, if they mean to separate us, but we might get more information this way.

  Tzanith made the choice herself. “Of course, Lady Selene. I would be honored.”

  She gave me a pointed look as the vampire led her back into the dancers, and I got the message. Stay on your guard.

  Tzanith could take care of herself. I passed my “wife” off with good grace, as was traditional for the Moonrise Dance. The Corpse Moon was beginning to rise through the windows, an argent sliver on the distant horizon beyond the lake.

  What’s your play, Evangeline? I thought. What’s all this pomp and ceremony for?

  And where was she? What was Olliard doing? Had Hendry and Lisette found him? I looked for Penric and Emma, but the more I pushed Finn Nu away the more their masques confused me. I suspected I might not recognize them.

  I wasn’t satisfied with this. I wanted to know where my companions were, what the play was, be precise in our actions. But that wasn’t how glamours worked. I’d had to leave the details to my allies, because the masque of Finn Nu would have muddled my memory of the specifics anyway.

  There were good reasons I avoided relying on powerful glamours, chiefly that the magic had its own life and was not trustworthy. It took constant concentration to keep the Wyldedaler from taking over. He was right there, ready to drown me again.

  I wondered who around me was a threat. How many vampires were here? How many of them were Evangeline’s thralls, staring back at me with her eyes, and how many were third parties like Marcion and Selene?

  Were Lillian and Ildeban here? I looked for them, and wondered if they hid behind illusions just as I did.

  Again, I felt a prickle on the back of my neck that warned me I was being watched. There was evil here, but the glamour and the sheer number of auras present muddied the sensation, made it difficult to pinpoint. I feared that if I tried to use my powers, the effort would burn the glamour away completely. I was the lynchpin, and the last thing I needed was to cause a chain reaction and ruin the disguises of my group right in the middle of their own private dramas.

  My scars were itching, had been since I’d entered the room.

  Through my internal strife, I listened to snippets of conversation around me. People were talking about the new queen, discussing the ball, the state of the realm. It all sounded like gossip. I didn’t sense the “fear” Emma had alluded to earlier.

  The Bannerfolk seemed excited at the prospect of change, of having a strong ruler again. No one mentioned dead villages or monsters stalking the countryside.

  I took a new partner as the Moonrise Dance began, though I hardly saw her through my distraction. She seemed to know what she was doing, and I let her lead us through the first steps.

  “It isn’t what you expected, is it?”

  I looked down at my partner. She was a bit taller than average, but not dramatically so, and moved with athletic confidence. Instead of the traditional gown, she wore a white shirt beneath an ivory corset over close-fitting leggings that showed defined muscle, one leg black and the other white. Her waist was belted by an arrangement of delicate silver chains, and a checker-patterned cape fell around her shoulders to trail along the floor.

  I couldn’t tell the color of her hair, as it had either been cut down short or carefully packed beneath a silver skull cap, which sported a ridge of rose-gold spikes left-to-right. A high, stiff collar enclosed her neck, swooping low on one side and almost to her cheekbone on the other.

  She stared at me with unblinking eyes the color of freshly spilled blood. My heart skipped a beat.

  While I’d never seen her out of armor, and only gotten a close look at her face twice, I knew those eyes. We’d been nearly this close less than two weeks ago, when I’d almost taken her head at Fife.

  “Did you not hear me, Lord of Mandrakes?” The Queen of the Bannerlands asked. She spoke softly, those ruby eyes narrowed in amusement.

  I slammed down on my reaction immediately, keeping my expression neutral, though I could not keep my heart from stuttering for a moment. I know she heard it by the way she smirked.

  “Your Majesty,” I said, and somehow managed to keep my voice steady.

  “You came in with the Hare.” Evangeline said. “Have the Fair Folk taken poor little Amelia under their wing?”

  Does she not recognize me? I wondered, thinking furiously. She was looking through that constable at Estival Bawn when I — when Finn Nu — purified him.

  How much did she actually perceive then? Had it been like a strange dream to her, or was this some kind of intimidation tactic?

  I sensed no hostility in her posture. She danced well and gracefully, though my shock had almost caused me to lose my own step. Where dancing with Tzanith had been like dancing with air, Evangeline had a sense of controlled power to her, like I followed the movements of a well fed tiger.

  “You are afraid,” Evangeline observed with satisfaction. “Do not fear, Lord Finn Nu. I am not hungry at the moment.”

  “So the rumors are true,” I said in Finn Nu’s melodic voice, deciding to play along with this charade. “You aren’t even trying to hide it.”

  When I nodded to her eyes, Evangeline let out a soft laugh that displayed sharp, white canines. “And why should I?!” She asked. “All warriors thirst for blood. Should I be ashamed now that it’s become more literal?”

  We performed a whisk, so we both faced the western wall. I thought furiously about what to do — I hadn’t expected to have an arm wrapped around the Vampire Queen’s waist when we finally confronted one another. She wasn’t wearing sword or armor, and I could summon my axe with any patch of shadow wide as my splayed fingers.

  But I wasn’t just here to kill her. Perhaps I might get a hint about Rysanthe’s whereabouts this way. Besides…

  In the ballroom windows, I stood alone amidst the other dancing couples. Evangeline did not cast a reflection. And she wasn’t the only one. Perhaps a little less than a third of the nobles reflected in the glass seemed to dance alone with ghostly partners.

  I was surrounded by the undead.

  Evangeline did not miss my realization. “An annoying quirk of my new condition. I have to trust servants to dress me. How do I look to your eyes, my lord?”

  I let her pass under my arm and waited for her to face me before replying. “Dangerous.”

  That pleased her. “I had the strangest dream not long ago. You were in it.”

  “Oh?” I raised my eyebrow as we continued to move through the steps. “I’m afraid I am a married man, Your Majesty.”

  “Perhaps I do not care. I have taken a kingdom in a year. I could take your heart right now, with but a single movement of my hand.”

  I’d watched her do it. That was how she’d killed Randal Brightling. If Evangeline decided to kill me here and now, I doubted I’d have the reflexes to stop her, and the threat wasn’t subtle.

  At this distance, she may as well have held a sword to my throat.

  “If I have done something to offend you, Majesty…”

  “I have no patience for innuendo, so I will speak plain — you and that creature you brought obviously represent the Sidhe. I want to know your intentions. Do you intend to protect the sad remnants of the Brightling clan and their allies? I promise you, I shall not take kindly to intrusions in my territory.”

  Either she was a very good actor, or she did not remember our confrontation at the Brightling castle. A dream, she said. The glamour must have interfered with her memory, just like it had done to mine.

  Which meant she would immediately realize I was false if I did anything to disturb the spell. Cautious, Al. Act the part. Finn Nu isn’t a distrustful monster slayer, he’s a charming sorcerer who bears mysterious gifts. She needs to believe that.

  A more difficult prospect at the moment, since I had to deny Finn Nu’s influence in order to keep my head clear. However, I wasn’t without my own cards. I knew Evangeline had an ego, for example, and suspected she would respond well to flattery.

  “The Sidhe go where they will, O’ Night Queen.”

  I could tell I’d said the right thing by the way her mouth twitched, her eyes flashing with pleasure. She liked that title.

  The next step in the dance required me to turn her around and pull her back to my chest, but she tried to reverse the motion in such a way that would have left me bending my arm awkwardly and lose time. I managed to recover the series of motions, barely, and we ended up back to back instead.

  Evangeline made a noise of approval. She was the better dancer, and the more aggressive one. If I hadn’t gained some confidence with Tzanith before, then she would have been walking all over me.

  “Perhaps once,” she said. “Times are changing, and mortals do not fear you as much as they once did.”

  We turned to face one another again and pressed close. Somewhere inside, part of me recoiled at the sickly sense of cold the vampire exuded, but it was buried inside the glamour and muted enough to ignore.

  Catrin felt like that too. You just got used to it.

  I didn’t like that comparison. Aloud I asked, “You think I’m an elf?”

  “You smell of one. You came here with one on your arm. Perhaps you are something else, but you are not human. Not entirely, at least. I see how the shadows bend towards you, Lord Finn Nu… The same way they do for me.”

  “Judging by your other guests,” I said, “I can hardly seem unique.”

  I nodded to Loveless Marcion, who stood some distance away and spoke with that short-haired woman dressed in red.

  “They are all here to watch me fail,” Evangeline said in a low voice. “But I will show them that their time of skulking in darkness and thinking themselves wise to do so is at an end. Ten years ago, they could not even cross into this land. Now they walk right into this place and act like lords… Does it not gall you?”

  I hadn’t expected this attitude towards her fellow night creatures. For a moment I said nothing. “And what is their alternative? What do you want from all of this, Your Majesty?”

  Evangeline showed her teeth in something that resembled a smile, fully revealing her sharp fangs. “A kingdom. A future free of false gods and weak men. A new world.”

  “Dangerous,” the Wyldedaler murmured. “There are powers greater than you, O’ Queen.”

  “Like you?” She asked sweetly. “I know you purged my spy in the Hare woman’s court. Ah! Your eyes tell the truth of it! So that wasn’t a dream.”

  I did not have a response, but Finn Nu did. I let him speak it.

  “I meant what I said to you then, Evangeline Ark.”

  A complicated series of emotions flashed through the vampire’s blood-tinted gaze. Hate, foremost, and I knew she considered killing us right there on the dance floor.

  But there was also confusion. Doubt. We took advantage of it and spun her as we hit a refrain in the song, firmly pulling her back against our chest. She hissed in frustration, but did not embarrass herself in front of witnesses by trying to pull away.

  Finn Nu spoke into the Vampire Queen’s ear. “What you meddle with will destroy you.”

  “I will prove you wrong,” she spat. Her angry eyes were fixed forward, away from ours. “How many know you still live?”

  “I do not live,” Finn Nu said. “This is but an echo of me.”

  “Because you failed. You were weak, an ineffectual fool who let your kingdom rot. I will surpass you.”

  The music changed, and every one of the dancers stepped back from their partners and took a bow or a curtsy, depending on their style of dress. Finn Nu did the same with the Queen, and she begrudgingly dipped her own head.

  “Watch what happens tonight, O’ King.” She showed her fangs again. “I cannot wait for you to see it.”

  She stalked off as the next song began with a sweep of her checker-patterned cape. Two armed guards in coats decorated with white feathers fell into step behind her. None of that group cast reflections in the windows.

  Another took our arm then, a girl a year shy of twenty with reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. This one wasn’t a vampire.

  “Are you still insane?” The young woman asked.

  It took me a moment to process the question and muster a reply as we moved into the next dance. “Yes, at least partly, but I’m me for the moment. That’s you, right Em?”

  “I’d rather you not call me that,” Emma said from behind Lady Maeve’s face. “I’m fairly in sync with her, but we are just different enough to create dysphoria if I’m not careful.”

  “She kind of just seems like you in a dress,” I noted.

  “You’d be surprised. She just spent the last twenty minutes flirting with those fops dressed in leaves. Terrible taste.”

  “I just had a conversation with our host,” I told her.

  Emma, or Maeve, widened her eyes. “And you’re alive?”

  “I got lucky. She wants my alter ego to see her scheme play out. I think she’s doing a lot of this to prove a point.”

  “Always convenient when our enemies hand us the next move. So what now?”

  “We need to figure out if Rysanthe is here, and where she’s being kept. Do you know where Penric is?”

  “Skulking about. That’s actually why I came to find you. He needs us for something, seems to believe it’s important.”

  I nodded. “Play time’s over, then. There are a lot of vampires here, along with interests from the continent. Maybe two or three wild elves, too. I think Finn Nu also just pissed off the queen, so… Stay on your guard?”

  Emma and Maeve sighed, and somehow I knew they both did it in sequence. “Wonderful.”

  I traded glances with Tzanith, and she nodded. Emma and I exited the dance as smoothly as we could and I let my squire lead me to an exit on the hall’s eastern face. There was a passageway there, some servants milling about, and tables with drinks and food items. All fairly normal.

  Penric wasn’t hard to make out. His glamour was barely more than surface level, giving him a healthier complexion and fading out his scars. He’d doffed his hunter’s cap to reveal a thinning fringe of gray hair.

  “You back with us, boss?” He asked me without preamble as we approached.

  “For now,” I said. “No idea when that will change. What do you have for me?”

  “Lady Amelia’s being watched, so there’s not much she can do for us, but she has allies in the city running messages to her people. She’s good at this.” The archer shrugged at the admission. “Apparently they’ve been building a network here since last summer. No clue what Lisette and Hendry’s situation is, so we’ll have to hope they’ve found the hunters and will make a show when they can.”

  That was all expected. “What else?”

  “There’s a sublevel beneath the palace, according to the servants. Old vaults, catacombs, armories. I tried sneaking down there, but our royal host has guards on all the passages below where we’re standing. Seems a bit suspicious, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded, feeling a surge of excitement. That could not be coincidence.

  “Problem is,” Emma said in a warning tone, “we don’t know who in this place can warn Evangeline from a distance.”

  “We’ll assume all of them,” I said. Evangeline had proven back at the Brightling castle that she could enthrall the living as well as the dead. It was very likely that she could see and act through everyone in this palace, from the guards to the maidservants.

  But not all of them at once. I’d spoken to Sans about it the same day I’d consulted him about how they planned to use Rysanthe. No matter how powerful a vampire Evangeline was, her mind was still mostly human, and it wasn’t possible for her to infest multiple slaves at once without shattering her own psyche.

  Or so the necromancer theorized. That could change with time, and if she was in fact possessed by a demon then her powers might be harder to predict, but I recalled that back in Fife she had only spoken through one mouthpiece at a time.

  “Her servants might be able to call her attention,” I said. “But if we’re cautious and don’t give them the chance, I think we can get down below without drawing her wrath. It’s going to be risky as all hell, though.”

  “Eh.” Penric spread his hands out. “What’s life without risk? Lisette and Hendry took themselves out of our faerie spell to connect with Olliard, and who knows what trouble that loon might be stuck in. We have to earn our keep, too.”

  I nodded. “Penric, I want you to stay up here and keep appraised with Amelia’s people. I also don’t want to leave Tzanith alone in the middle of all these vampires. Emma and I will go down below. We both look like nobles right now, and I doubt we’re the only ones wandering the grounds.”

  “Right,” the archer agreed. “I’ll watch the elf’s back. Luck.”

  Penric sidled off, leaving me alone with Finn Nu’s little sister.

  “Are you alright?” Emma asked me.

  I was rubbing at the scars on my face again. They itched terribly, to the point of burning. “There are too many monsters here,” I admitted. “It’s making it difficult to sense who actually is one. Evangeline was literally dancing with me before I realized it was her.”

  Concern flickered over Emma’s face at that. “Well, I can’t sense demons and undead like you can, but we’ll watch one another’s back. Just like with the Briar, right?”

  “Right.” I smiled. With that, we delved deeper into the Vampire Queen's palace while the nobles danced, the band played, and the full moon rose higher into the sky.