Page 78 of Burn for Me

Sam lets go of my hand, allowing me to slide into his side as his arm wraps around me.

“Names.” It’s the same bald man from the club, but this time, a curvy woman stands close to his side, so he waves his hand to dismiss her. Unlike the people strolling by in the large-pane windows, he is the only one wearing a black surgical mask.

“Morana,” Sam says casually.

“Any weapons?”

Sam nods, using his free hand to pull aside his jacket, revealing a pistol. The man looks at me, and I freeze.

“You have to show them. They’ll pick up on the scan either way. If you lie, problems will arise.”

I know Tide just shut up.

Sam picks up on my anxiety and drops his jacket, brushing his fingers against the slit in my dress to reveal the red gardener's knife pressed tightly against my thigh. The man stares momentarily, then nods, allowing us to pass.

With each step, I glance around out the corner of my eye, studying our surroundings without being obvious. Hopefully, we won’t need backup because everywhere I look, there’s a man or woman dressed in all black, with straps open at their hips and walkie-talkies attached to their shoulders. If it’s serious enough that they have the place surrounded, then I don't even need to search for the cameras that I’m sure are securely positioned all around.

“Just got past the hard wall. Ladies and gentlemen, we have eyes.”

I take a deep breath through my nose, and Sam huffs louder than before. Moe may be trying to lighten the mood, but this isn’t a show. This is a dance with death, and quite frankly, I’m not ready to see his face.

“Two coming through!” The man yells behind us as the doors swing open, revealing a grand staircase that stretches through the center of the large room. The gorgeous gray wood steps perfectly match the sleek, shining floors below.

I am drawn to the chandelier high above the ceiling as we pass through a white archway that looks simple enough to be an undercover metal detector. When I was younger, I naively thought I wouldn’t have to crane my neck as much to see the silver tassels or make out the shimmering black diamonds hanging from the metal bars. However, I was mistaken.

“Enjoy your night.” A woman sings the words lightly as if this place isn't filled with people who could start getting trigger-happy at any moment.

Sam squeezes my hip, and I glance around at the crowd dressed in extravagant clothing, ranging from simple mermaid tail dresses and black tuxedos to more elaborate princess corsets and intricate suits, all complemented by masks.

This might be harder than I thought. Without seeing anyone's face, we're truly going in blind.

“Well, shit. Hold on. I highly doubt people change their masks yearly, so maybe I can pinpoint a few.”

Sam guides us through the area, and I spot a group of men wearing similar half-face masks that cover their eyes and extend down the sides of their cheeks. From the stiff, straight posture of their shoulders and the relaxed position of their hands on their pistols, I realize I’ve just identified the Bosses. I clear my throatand glance up at Sam, but he doesn’t look back at me; instead, he focuses on picking up a glass from a passing tray.

I swear, this man and his damn whiskey are going to be the death of me.

Turning, I step in front of him, and he glares down at me as if offended that I pulled away from his hold. My hands slowly trail up his chest to tug at the collar of his tux, urging him to bend down at least a little so I can lazily wrap my arms around the nape of his neck.

“That means put the damn drink down, Sam. This is a mission, not a party.”Tide huffs. Judging by Sam's mask's tightening, I’d almost say he’s amused.

Another waitress passes by, and he sets the glass back onto a tray before wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. It's different from the first time we were in this position. He’s much more relaxed now; his hands don’t hesitate to wander along my waist and the small of my back. The music is louder than before, especially since it’s not coming from a phone off to the side. Instead, it feels like the sound surrounds us, creating a soft buzz in the air, almost as if it’s floating down from the ceiling.

“Eleven o’clock,” I whisper, taking a deep breath as I try to follow Sam's steps instead of overriding them. Thank goodness I’m not barefoot again; I don’t think my big toe could handle another crush under his weight.

Sam traces his fingers lazily along my spine as he nods in understanding.

“It’s not them,” he grumbles.

Surely, if someone is doing the bidding, it’ll be them. I play with the end of his mask tucked into the back of his collar, trying not to be frightened by the skull so close to my face.

“How would you know?”

“Wouldn’t make sense.”

I gnaw at my bottom lip and nearly fall over when his taste invades my mouth again. I don’t need to see his face to feel his chest puff out a little more.Laugh all you want, jerk.

“He means it wouldn’t make sense, considering the only people you've interacted with are the successors,”Tide says.

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