Page 12 of A Dance Macabre

Gemini’s gaze lands back on mine. “Anyway,” he says with a hint of boredom. “What was I sayin—” He snaps his fingers. “Right!” His stare turns slightly pointed. “With the Conclave next week, I’d be remiss not to ask if you and Wolfie will manage to behave.”

My scoff is mocking. “Look who’s speaking.”

Gemini snickers, a hand to the chest. “All part of the Foley charm, love.”

“Besides,” I add with a bite, “We’re not the only families feuding.”

His eyes narrow as if I’ve said something daft. “Ofourgeneration, you two are the only ones who are taking it so —” His lip curls as if appalled by the word itself. “— seriously.” Taking another sip of champagne, he adds, “Look at me and Tinny for example.”

Their families have been feuding for as long as mine and the Vainglorys.

I cross my arms. “Whatever happened to respecting long-standing traditions,” I mutter haughtily.

Gemini scoffs, his grin turning cocksure. “Since when have we ever been known to follow rules, love?”

8

WOLFGANG

Constantine’s mansion, in the north end of Pravitia, would already be hard to miss just by its sheer size, but paired with the all-pink exterior, the monstrosity can surely be seen from space.

Aleksandr strolls up the white steps and opens the front door without knocking. I follow him inside at a leisurely pace, hands in my trouser pockets.

“Honey, we’re home!” Aleksandr calls out from the large foyer.

He turns to me, cracking a smile and winking as if expecting me to laugh at his doltish joke. I don’t, keeping my face neutral as I hear Constantine’s voice from a few rooms down.

Since their families have been on friendly terms for the past century, the two have never had the hurdle of age-old feuds to overcome. Their friendship has been steadfast for as long as I can remember.

Constantine appears shortly after, looking like she tore herself out of a vintage housewife magazine. Her blonde hair falls in perfectly styled waves, a white apron wrapped tightly around her pink poodle skirt dress.

“Finally!” she exclaims, giggling loudly when her blue eyes land on Aleksandr. Running up to him with arms wide open, he catches her midway, twirling her body around before setting Constantine back on her feet. His outfit seems to mirror hers, the slacks and collared baby blue shirt echoing decades past.

“Miss me?” he drawls.

“Always,” she replies with a beaming smile.

I give Aleksandr a searing side-eye but he doesn’t notice, so I clear my throat. “Pleasure to see you too, Tinny,” I say as I pick an invisible piece of lint off my sleeve.

Constantine’s breathy giggle is unbothered. “Silly Wolfie, I’m always happy to see you,” she says as she leans in to fix my silk ascot tie. I swat her away like a pesky mosquito.

Ignoring my grievance, she claps her hands together, looking at us both. “Drinks in the weapons room! Come, come.”

Spinning around, she signals us to follow her down the long hall, as if we both haven’t been to her house countless times.

Pink ornate sconces illuminate our path as we pass countless open doors. From the corner of my eye, I catch the room full of Victorian dolls locked away behind glass cases, it’s immediately followed by the one designated for her vast human bone collection. Finally, before arriving at the aforementioned weapons room, we walk past the room stuffed with medieval torture memorabilia—my favorite.

“The gang’s all here!” she chirps while traversing the threshold.

“What gang—” My words fizzle out in my throat when my gaze lands on Mercy daintily perched on a chair, a large array of throwing stars fanning behind her on the wall.

“Tinny,” she hisses, green eyes narrowing to slits. The curl of disgust on her red lips and hard grip around her glass tells me she’s just as cornered as I am.

“It was Gem’s idea!” Constantine volleys back, pointing a manicured finger toward a grinning Gemini sprawled across a white chaise. His hair is dyed pink for the occasion, small diamonds affixed near the corners of his eyes sparkling as bright as his gaze.

Mercy’s glare flares before she turns sharply around, reaches for one of the throwing stars, and launches it at Gemini’s head. Belladonna lets out a high-pitched shriek, the weapon narrowly missing her as she tucks her head behind her arms. Gemini snickers beside her, gracefully ducking out of the way, the star lodging itself in the wall behind him.

“See how entertaining this already is?” Gemini says with a debonair wave of his hand.

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