Page 82 of Riot of Autumn

The Fae’s face is almost the same color as his hair. I wonder if he’s embarrassed or angry.

“You will come with—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Let’s get this over with. If only to get this asshole out of our faces,” Davis snaps.

He shoves the blustering Fae out of the way and pushes through the crowd, Miri’s hand clenched tight in his. Archer and Lena fall in behind them, followed by Rhys and Zara. Ruby and I bring up the rear. Ruby’s hand is tucked tightly in mine. My costume has a piece that goes up over my head. I push it back, wanting to be able to hear as clearly as possible, and to keep my line of sight clear.

I spot one of Rhys’s bartenders, Greta, twirling through the crowd, handing out little bottles of specialty shots to everyone she passes. She weaves around our group, handing out the party favors to the eight of us with a wink. She skips the Fae, ignoring them like they aren’t even there. Everyone downs their little shots, even Davis. It’s a good thing it’s not alcohol in the bottles, since he doesn’t drink.

It’s surprisingly tasty. I toss my bottle and Ruby’s in a recycling bin as we walk by, keeping an eye on the crowd. They’re rowdy, but not out of control. The sheer amount of Fae milling around the party and sticking close to the Duke is eye opening. We knew there would be a lot of them here, but to see them all in one place is slightly daunting. Unlike with Emric, every single one of these Fae makes my skin itch. There’s something off about them. I smell it in their magic.

Our group stops in front of the area where the Duke has set up court. We spread out in a line, the Fae behind us moving in to form a cage around us. Now that we’re up close, I see the Duke’s long blond hair has been intricately braided, and he’s wearing a half mask that looks to be made of bone. It’s probably not from the Party Supply Store, and I don’t want to know what animal it came from. Fuck, I really hope it was an animal and not a person.

He’s wearing a billowy shirt and, I’m like eighty-five percent certain, breeches. I’d say it’s part of his costume, but I suspect it’s not. His icy blue eyes nearly glow beneath his mask, and the beast inside me wants to burst free and rip him to shreds.

“You rang, your majesty.” Ruby gives him a comically exaggerated bow, made even more ridiculous by her costume. I’m pretty sure the Duke believes her reverence is sincere until my friends and I start snickering.

His jaw clenches, the smirk falling off his face. Straightening in his gaudy chair, the Duke composes himself and gestures across the party. “Welcome to the Samhain festival.”

Lena clears her throat, making a loud, very irritated sound. “Excuse me, I believe it’s us”—she points to Archer and then at herself—“that should welcome you. We organized this party. Feel free to throw your own party at your stolen house.”

Oops. There goes Lena’s to-do list, completely fucked up. According to her bullet points, we were to fly under the radar and avoid provoking the Duke. I guess she doesn’t like someone else taking credit for all her hard work.

The Duke slouches back in his chair, staring her down with his frosty eyes. I think he’s waiting for her to wilt, but he doesn’t know Lena.

“Soon I will own this entire island,” his voice booms, sounding regal and commanding.

“Oh, are you thinking of getting into the real estate game?” Archer turns that sunny smile of his on the Duke.

“What’s real estate?” the Duke snaps.

He has no idea what to do with us. I’m sure in Fairy he’s used to deferential subjects that lick his boots. He needs to lower his expectations.

“Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that. I dabble. Okay, fine, you got me. I’m pretty much the go-to guy on this island,” Archer goes on cheerfully, as if the Duke didn’t snap at him.

“Stop talking,” The Duke commands and I feel a brush of magic. I’m tempted to tell him to fuck off, but that doesn’t work with our plans. “No wonder you didn’t complete the bonds. You’re imbeciles.”

The Fae surrounding us shift and murmur, like they are hoping for a fight but have been told to stay still.

“What’s that mean?” Ruby blinks her eyes up at the Duke, her face blank like a doll.

Behind the Duke, Anthony’s irritated face makes him look like someone is rubbing salt and lemon juice in his paper cuts. Seraphina’s scrolling through her phone, a bored glaze over her eyes, but Colton looks pissed. He knows exactly how we’re messing with the Duke, even if the Duke is too oblivious to realize it himself.

Scott has his hand on his ever-present baton. His eyes roam over the crowd, intermittently flitting back to our group like he’s waiting for us to attack. Like he’d be able to do a damn thing about it, anyway. Not to mention the Duke is the one who summoned us over here. We didn’t wander over to pick a fight.

We’re saving that for later.

“It means you will do exactly as I say.”

“And what is it you want us to do?” Rhys asks, his voice even and cool.

The Duke looks pleased, as though he’s been waiting for someone to set him up with this question. His stony gaze turns toward me and Ruby. “At midnight tonight, in this very town center, the two of you will bond and finalize the Axis.” The Duke is pushing so much power into his words that they pulse and vibrate against my ear.

The magic buzzes against my skin, trying to burrow in deep and dig its claws in to control me. Before any of us have to come up with a reply, a shout goes up behind us. The Duke rips his gaze away from Ruby and searches the crowd.

“Oh, ancestors of old, protect our island on this night of mischief,” Octavia Beauchamp’s voice rings out loudly through the town center. Someone has turned down the music to make sure she can be heard.

“Just as the Sentinels from Fairy once protected us, we ask you to do the same tonight.”

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