Chapter 35 Midnight Masquerade
Daphne
Midnight Masquerade
I landed on something hard. Strong arms kept me from rolling to the side. My lips were still burning, and my heart was beating so loud I was afraid he could hear it.
Was he only using me to bring us back?
How could someone kiss like that only to get what they want?
“I wouldn’t mind the position, but you knocked my air out when you landed on me,” Emrys said beneath me. The world gained shape again, and I blushed, realizing I was sprawled on top of him.
I peeled myself from him. “Where are we?” Desperate to hide my flushed face, I looked around. The night was chilly, the air carrying the distant whiff of salt. A black cat perched on a pile of crates was watching us with contempt.
Emrys pushed himself from the dusty cobblestones. “A back alley of some kind.”
He was right. Gray walls surrounded us, and garbage and old newspapers littered the corners. He snuck to the alley’s entrance, his silhouette framed by the golden glow of the street lamps beyond. He peeked out and cursed in some unknown language.
“We’re still in France. Marseille. Well, close enough. Come on, little thief. Let’s get us some clothes.” And, to my terror, he stepped into the main street.
“Clothes?” I asked, hurrying to match his wide stride.
“Even immortals get cold, little thief. And you look like you got dragged through a battlefield.”
I plucked at my ruined sleeve. “Technically, I was.”
Thank God it was late, and the streets were empty, except for the occasional drunk sailor.
Nobody paid us any attention. It seemed that a half-naked man and a woman in a blood-stained gown were nothing unusual around here.
Emrys stopped before a shop window displaying elegant suits and shimmering evening dresses.
“‘Maison de Mode Vautrin,’” he read the sign above the door. “Charming. Let’s rob it.”
He was gone—disappeared into a narrow side street.
I rolled my eyes. “Damn this man!” Would I ever have a peaceful minute again?
To my horror, I found him pulling himself up through a narrow window.
Glancing at the main street, I stood alone for a moment, then followed, trying not to snag my skirt on the windowsill.
Inside, the shop was hushed and opulent—lace curtains, velvet ottomans, mannequins frozen mid-pose. It smelled of lavender sachets and expensive perfume. Moonlight filtered through the frosted glass, catching on crystal beading and soft folds of silk.
I tried to focus on the clothes, the velvet and lace and the absurdity of it all—but the ghost of his lips on mine wouldn’t leave me. I kept seeing his hands. Hearing his voice. Feeling like something dangerous had already begun.
We moved through the racks, brushing aside feathers, brocade, and impractical corsets. Emrys lifted a sequined shawl and raised an eyebrow. “What about this? Parisian vampire? Very now.”
I snorted. “That would be fitting if the goal was to frighten every sailor in Marseille and half the Mediterranean.”
He grinned, then tossed it aside and reached for something darker, more severe. “Come. Let’s not linger too long.”
Still, it was impossible not to be swept away a little. I ran my fingers over velvet capes, flowing skirts, and coats with pearl buttons. Something about it made me dizzy with sudden freedom.
We tried on the absurd things at first. Emrys emerged from behind a curtain, wearing a red cravat and a waistcoat that was two sizes too small. “What do you think?”
“Like a rakish opera villain,” I said. “Needs some eyeliner.”
I found a glittering gold turban and struck a pose. “The Duchess of Cairo.”
He adjusted the diamond necklace I’d taken from Duskmere Manor, his fingers brushing my neck. I stiffened, but he playfully gave a half-bow. “Charmed, Your Grace.”
In the end, I chose a sleek traveling dress in forest green paired with a long gray cloak lined with satin. Sturdy but comfortable boots. Emrys found a coat that made him look like a disgraced nobleman in exile—black, high-collared, with silver embroidery over the sleeves.
“Very brooding,” I said. “Ten out of ten.”
He looked in the mirror, adjusted the collar, and then muttered, “I’ll send them gold later.”
I raised a brow. “You’re sending money? What happened to good old-fashioned thievery?”
“I may be many things, Miss Daphne,” he said and brushed lint from his sleeve, “but I’m not a common thief. That’s your area of expertise.”
I shrugged. “Says the man who just looted a three-piece suit.” His smile was so disarming I was sure the shop owner would let him keep the clothes for free. “Come on, little thief. Time to go. Dawn will break soon.”
We snuck out the same way we came in. Sweet baby Jesus, how much more comfortable this dress was. A shape fluttered from the night sky above. I jumped back, instinct kicking in.
“About time,” said a familiar, smug little voice.
“Good that you found us, Nibble.” Emrys stretched his arm. The bat landed on it with a sound resembling a purr. “Were you safe?”
I walked to them and scratched Nibble behind the ears. It was so good to see someone who didn’t want to kill you on sight. Nibble’s fur was silky soft, and he made that heart-melting sound again.
He spread his wings dramatically and winked at me. “I know my way across the realms. That’s why they call me Shadow! But they’re everywhere. Some of them heading this way, too.”
Emrys frowned. “The Renegade?”
“Yes.”
I looked around; the dark street corners suddenly seemed alive, as if countless malevolent eyes peered at us from the gloom.
“I guess your ritual was unsuccessful,” Nibble said.
“We were overrun. Twisted Ones walk among us.”
“Then you should be very cautious, Master.” I never knew a furry face could express concern, but there it was.
Emrys looked at the sky, where the stars were already fading. “Listen to me carefully, Nibble. You can find your way across. Find Camille. Tell her to meet us in Cairo. We’ll repeat the ritual in Egypt. The next Surge is at the pyramids.” His voice turned low, urgent.
My stomach clenched with dread. “Excuse me?” Stepping closer, I waved a hand in front of his face. “Egypt?” I repeated.
It all came back. The screams of my mother, then those terrible bubbles. The rush of water over my head. My father’s hand slipping from mine. “No. No, I’m not doing that again.”
I’m not getting on a ship again. Not when I saw what—who—was waiting for me in the depths.
“Ooh–ooh,” Nibble exclaimed, and I suddenly got the desire to growl at him.
Emrys looked at me, his dark brows locked. “If you want your freedom, Daphne, this is the way to go. The next Surge is in two weeks, at the pyramids. It’s our only chance.”
I was shaking in a helpless rage. And fear.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before? At the Tower?” I spat.
Nibble shifted on Emrys’s arm. “Should I leave you alone to settle this, guys?”
“Yes!” Emrys and I snapped simultaneously.
“See you in Egypt then!” the bat said and vanished toward the fading stars.
I raised a finger to protest, but Emrys’s warm, grounding touch stopped me.
“This time, all will go well. I swear—on my long, cursed life—I’ll protect you.
The undyne is not as strong as you think.
It’s only five days at sea. And remember.
” He leaned in, that maddening scent of pinewood and rain numbing me.
“If you die, I die too, Miss Daphne. I won’t let anything happen to you.
” The manipulative bastard reached out and tucked a loose strand behind my ear, sending jolts of electricity down my body.
I crossed my arms at my chest. “Can’t you just take those mysterious magical roads that brought us to the Folded Tower? Those that Nibble uses?”
“It would be difficult with a mortal in tow and depleted magic. I could manifest us at the bottom of the sea or two hundred feet above the desert sand. Calibration is a bit off when I don’t have my full powers.”
I dragged a palm over my face. “We sail to Alexandria, we perform that cursed ritual, and I’m free to go?”
My thoughts raced. Will we make it there? What would happen after?
“Yes, little thief. You give me back what’s mine, and you can leave. The world is yours.” He whispered, his eyes delving into mine, studying me. Expecting something I couldn’t figure out.
Something strained in my chest. Was that sadness in his voice, or was it my imagination?
And why, suddenly, was there no rush of excitement thinking about leaving him and exploring this world alone?
Wasn’t that what I always wanted? Yet there was something else, a doubt, that spread like a poisonous vine through my heart.
To give him back his magic and walk away was the goal.
Why did his words sound like closing a door I wasn’t ready to shut?
I huffed and rubbed my forehead. Time was running short. The sky was turning pink-gold, the sickle of the moon paling.
“Fortune favors the brave.” Grandfather’s favorite saying slipped from my lips. “Emrys Ravenborn,” I said, “you got yourself a deal.”