Page 62 of An Assassin's Death
“Mason says you need to leave in exactly seven minutes.”
My eyes widen.
“You’ve been up here for at least five.”
His hands wave before him. “You’re the one making small talk, not me.”
I shove off from the soft carpet, and the heels I’m wearing catch on the hem of my dress causing me to stumble forward. His palm skims against my lower arm, steadying me and caressing me all at the same time. His thumb sweeps slowly over the tender skin of my wrist.
“You’re ready. Wipe the anxiety from your face. You can do this.”
I swallow hard from the sound of his reassurance and suddenly my breathing is calm and steady.
Just as I take a single step forward, his arms skim against my bare shoulders, his body aligns with mine and in front of me he presents the diamond encrusted mask. The lighting glitters against the jewels even as he settles it in place. With perfect posture, I wait as he circles around me, tying the silky ribbons behind my head. His hands brush against the back of my neck, making me shiver as he works. At the last moment, he steals my fancy sunglasses from atop my head and I turn to him as he tosses them on the mattress.
“You look perfect now.” His quiet approval washes over me and there’s a hint of awkward tension in the air.
I’m definitely going to be thinking about that kiss for the rest of my life.
* * *
Every detail Mousegave me is one hundred and ten percent accurate. The pews of the church have been removed, leaving an enormous room laid out before me. There’s more people here than I’ve ever seen at the Lifeless League. The room is filled wall-to-wall with silky dresses and pressed suits. Hundreds of people are here. But where did they all come from?
Some are assassins, and I can feel the charged atmosphere around me as the presence of their powers wash over me. I can only pray my mask is doing a hell of a job every time I make eye contact with someone I recognize.
Armond is nowhere to be seen.
The building may have been remodeled along the empty space that the patrons are using as a dance floor but at the front there still stands an altar. A cross demands my attention, and I just know that’s where he will stand when he does make his grand appearance.
I peer up at the balcony, hoping to see familiar dark eyes looking out for me.
But he isn’t there. A few people mill around the second floor but the one person who could bring me comfort right now isn’t there.
The feeling that sinks low in my stomach twists in rhythm with my emotions.
Warm palms run down my arms as a rasping breath fans against my ear. The pulsing feel of familiar power tingles over my skin, and I know who it is before I even lay eyes on him.
“You look fucking stunning.” Mason’s words shiver all through me as his chest melds against my spine.
“What are you doing down here?” My tone is harsh but my body language directly contradicts it. I melt back into Mouse, stealing any comfort his closeness offers me.
“You looked too beautiful to leave alone. Had to come see you.” A hand trails down my arm to my hip, settling possessively on my curves, while the other slides upward, pulling my long hair to the side as he leans in. “Plus, I figured you could use a dancing partner.” His breath caresses the back of my neck, sending a shiver through my body.
I look pointedly around the room at all the other males in attendance. “I didn’t realize I had a lack of options.” It’s true, but I secretly love that Mouse is here with me. Especially after last night.
“Like I’d let another man touch you.” Each possessive word touches my heart and lights me on fire.
“Jameson touches me,” I say. “So does Tylin. Rory—never mind.”
“That’s different.” The statement is just that. A fact. He doesn’t sound conflicted about the relationship that’s forming between all of us. And neither am I. I’ve never had anyone to care about me, and I’m not about to let something like societal convention get in the way of my rapidly growing happiness. If I survive this, that is. And if Rory doesn’t kill me himself for infiltrating his precious team.
The sharp sound of the small orchestra pierces the air as another song strikes up.
Without another word, Mason places a hand low on my back and guides me to the dance floor, sweeping me up into his arms. I settle my hand into his and let him pull me closer than etiquette demands.
The lighting makes his smooth skin more olive, his features sharper, and his eyes impossibly darker.
I hold my breath as we start to move, staring at my feet and trying to remember the steps that Tylin forced me to learn. Although I will never admit it to Tylin, I’m glad he made me learn. I’m glad I got to share that part of him that he never would have shown me if not for this event. This event brought the five of us together really.
