Chapter 43
THE FOUNDER'S DESCENT
Istand on the balcony with my hands on the rail.
Below, Mayor Ridley gives the opening speech while a stringed quartet plays softly.
Flickering candlelight casts a haunting glow upon masked guests in their formal attire.
It feels like I’ve stepped into history, until I glimpse Twig on the edge of the crowd with his arm in a sling, dressed in a suit that’s a little too short and a little too modern.
I set my hand over the bodice of my dress, as though doing so might calm the butterflies in my stomach. The dress arrived this afternoon after the Harvest Festival, delivered in a vintage box with a handwritten note.
You said you didn’t have anything to wear. -J
For a moment, I wondered if it wasn’t the dress from the wardrobe.
But then I pulled it out, and there was nothing faded or moth-eaten about it.
When I tried it on, it fit to perfection, a fact that makes me blush even now.
Because how could Jude know my size so intimately?
I adjust my mask, pearl white with gold filigree, and run my hand beneath my hair, which is half pinned up.
The rest falls in loose curls down my back with a few carefully placed tendrils framing my face.
All credit to Naomi, who came over with her curling iron.
I look at her and Harper next to Twig, and not too far from them—Mr. and Mrs. Calloway and Dad. After Rafe’s ominous words about tonight, I made a quick and definitive decision.
“I’m going,” I told Jude. “I’m sorry if that upsets you. I’m sorry if you don’t want me there, but I can’t sit in my bedroom while people I care about step into danger unknowingly.”
He didn’t argue.
He didn’t even let me finish.
“Obviously, the circumstances have changed,” he’d said.
I was going to the ball.
And he was going with me.
Jude stands at the bottom of the staircase in a black coat with a high collar, his gloved hands folded behind his back, his black mask simple but striking.
He paints such a flawless picture, it seems obvious that he’s part angel.
A dead giveaway, honestly. Like I should have known this upon first sight.
His looks are quite literally from heaven.
When he looks up at me, the fluttering in my stomach multiplies.
Mayor Ridley receives a round of polite applause. He hands the microphone to Miss Applewhite. She thanks the mayor and begins the Founder’s Descent.
“Don’t you look ravishing.” The words belong to Lainey, who prowls toward me, breathtakingly gorgeous in a blood-red dress and a golden mask. She stops beside me at the railing, toying with a necklace at her décolletage.
It’s the ruby.
I nearly choke at the sight of it.
She smiles. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? When Rafe gave it to me to wear, I could hardly believe my eyes.”
“Lainey,” I say, unsure what to add, my unease curdling to dread. Whatever role Rafe has picked for her, I’m positive it won’t end well. “I don’t think you should wear that.”
“Of course you don’t.” She slides the amulet up and down its chain. “You know, you sure do have a lot of nerve sitting on your high horse, trying to villainize Rafe when you’re the thief.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He told me about the onyx and the pearl. It’s really rude to hide something that doesn’t belong to you, Selah.”
“He told you about them?”
“Rafe tells me everything.”
I turn to face her fully. “What did he ask you to do at the parade?”
She lifts her chin.
I’ve never been Lainey’s biggest fan. But not for one second do I blame her for what happened to Twig. I didn’t yesterday, before I knew who Rafe really was. And I certainly don’t now. “He made you hurt Twig, didn’t he?”
“He didn’t make me do anything.” Her eyes are glowing, almost fevered. “I don’t know what you have against him, Selah, but he loves me.”
“Twig broke his arm,” I shoot back. “He ended up in the hospital.”
It could have been so much worse.
But Lainey only glares, like I’m the enemy. “He told me you would do this.”
“Do what?”
“Try to turn me against him.” She twirls a strand of dark, silky hair, gazing down at the object of her affection. Raphael Vandenberg. A harbinger of evil. A wicked shadow. A beautiful lie who has snared Lainey Sikes in his web.
“What does he want you to do tonight?” I ask her.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” With a coy smile, she shoots me a wink. Then she turns and nearly runs into Becca Lynn at the top of the stairs, waiting to be announced.
Lainey’s never been mean before. Absurdly dramatic and overly emotional, always.
But never cruel. And yet, she looks Becca Lynn up and down, a peacock next to a sparrow, and says in a sickly sweet voice, “You’re so lucky you don’t care what people think, Becca.
To show up in a dress like that on a night like this is just … so brave of you. Admirable, even.”
Becca Lynn’s face falls. I can see it behind her mask.
Miss Applewhite calls her name.
She stumbles over the second step.
Lainey laughs, loud enough for Becca to hear.
I turn and glare at her.
She shrugs demurely, then she grins a grin so reminiscent of Rafe, my hands curl into fists.
“I hope you don’t mess up the dance, Selah. Having missed the dress rehearsal and all.”
Before I can offer a retort, Miss Applewhite’s assistant sweeps in with her clipboard in hand and earpiece in place, telling me to stand straight, shoulders back. I’m next.
I come to the edge of the stairs. I set one hand on the railing, the other over my stomach as Jude’s eyes find mine and lock into place with an intensity that makes me forget all about Lainey Sikes.
“Miss Selah Whitlock,” Miss Applewhite announces, “escorted by Mr. Jude Vandenberg of the Vandenberg Family.”
I walk down the stairs to the sound of gentle applause. I don’t trip. I don’t stumble. I don’t take my eyes off of Jude. And I don’t breathe until I reach him. He offers his arm. With my hand safely tucked in the crook of his elbow, we descend the rest of the way together.
At the bottom, I’m forced to walk past the other Vandenberg, his blue eyes gleaming behind a serpentine mask. His predatory gaze follows me as I walk with Jude onto the dance floor.
Lainey’s name is called.
The ruby amulet resting in the dip of her clavicle catches the light and the muscles in Jude’s arm tighten.
Lainey and Rafe join us on the floor, the last of the founding couples. The guests gather to watch the opening dance. The stringed quartet begins to play a light and lyrical melody.
With my heart still racing, I curtsey.
Jude bows.
The Waltz of the Hollow begins.
The six of us come together. We circle left.
We circle right. I don’t look at Lainey or Rafe.
Neither does Jude. It’s just us—me and him.
Even when we come apart, his attention remains fixed on me, and although he’s wearing gloves, I can feel the heat of his fingers when the dance brings us back together.
We step close, our bodies nearly touching.
He turns me in a circle one way, then turns me again in the other.
And I have to let go. The dance demands it. I take Rafe’s hand with gritted teeth.
The strings rise in cadence, a dance from another century resurrected under flickering candlelight.
A melody spun like a spell as Jude and I are drawn together like magnets, like destiny, then pulled apart as we progress down the line and follow the steps.
Every departure a heartbreak. Every return sweet relief as his touch lingers and his gaze smolders.
I’m left spinning.
And wanting.
More of him.
All of him.
But then the song ends.
And the crowd claps.
And the spell is broken.
Beside me, Lainey’s face is flushed as Rafe pulls her to him. He tells her she looks stunning. Lainey smiles coquettishly then bats her eyes at Jude. “Tell your mom thank you for the mask, by the way. She’s the one who lent it to me.”
“Isabel isn’t my mother,” Jude replies.
“Oh, really?” Lainey says, all false surprise.
I want to step on her toe. Lainey knows Isabel isn’t Jude’s mother. She’s made this mistake before. Just like it got under his skin then, it clearly gets under his skin now.
“You’re so forgetful, Lainey,” Rafe admonishes, his arm sliding around her waist. “Jude’s real mother died, remember? Giving birth to you, right, Jude?”
Like a drawn bow, Jude’s spine stiffens.
“So technically, you’re what killed her.
” He leans close. “Or I guess it was your father’s love.
The curse and all. Better be careful with Selah, yeah?
” He casts a slow glance toward me, as though checking my reaction as much as Jude’s.
Then he whirls Lainey around, and with a whisper in her ear, sends her off toward a group of our classmates.
She prowls toward them like a lioness on the hunt.