Page 109 of Shades of Silver City

I won’t fit in.

I’m tempted to turn and bolt down the stairs—away from all this nonsense—but Archer releases my arm, steps ahead of me, and pushes the door open.

“Tasia,” he says softly. “After you.”

Cool air washes over me the moment I step inside the venue. The door softly closes behind us, and Archer approaches me from behind. He draws me in, pulling me tight to his side.

“Hey,” he murmurs. When I glance up at him, he’s staring down at me, reverence and adoration simmering in his gaze. He reaches up to trace the skin beneath my mask. “You are absolutely gorgeous.”

“Right back atcha, handsome,” I say, smiling softly.

“I’m serious.” His eyes roam my face. “Any man would be lucky to have you at his side.”

My heart thumps wildly. As I wait for it to calm down, I study the deep honey-colored hue around his body, and I realize that maybe he truly doesn’t belong here either. As cruel and lawless as people think the Phantom is, and as rich and arrogant as people probably think Archer Acciai is, he is none of those things.

To me, he’s simply Archer.

The man who’s protected me, fought for me, and made me feel safe and seen for the first time in my life.

Longing swirls in my stomach, and it’s suddenly so strong that it aches.

The lights flicker and go out, and I gasp. Archer tightens his grip on me as frantic muttering echoes through the hall.

A voice comes over the loudspeaker, effectively silencing us all.

“Thank you, citizens of Silver City, for joining us tonight in honor of Mesmeric Laboratories.” The lights flicker back on, but this time the illumination is a dim, red hue. I blink a few times, letting my eyes adjust. “As you may have heard, there was an unfortunate event this evening, rendering a portion of the labs useless. We thank all of our patrons, vendors, and donors for being here, and we implore you to consider the implications of our loss. Our community is only as strong as our weakest, so we must work to rebuild as one.”

Polite applause rings out, and I glance at Archer, trying to follow his lead. The soft expression he wore a moment ago is gone. His jaw is set tight. Without a word, he leads me toward the ballroom.

I blink again, taking in the sight of Splendor Hall. A wide hallway adorned with chandeliers leads to an open ballroom. Flowing fabrics cascade from the ceiling down to the walls, where they’re tied to either side of the hallway.

Everything—the hallway, the ballroom, the twirling people and their excessive gowns—are bathed in a deep red hue.

If the masks weren’t enough to keep our identities mostly hidden, this new, eerie lighting helps. It’s aggressive and sensual, but it muddles the dozens of soul-shades around the room. Instead of vibrant, glowing colors, everyone has a barely noticeable fog wafting around them.

“Archer,” I whisper, panic gripping me once again. “I can’t make out any soul-shades in here.”

He glances down at me. “The lighting?”

I nod.

“I’ll get Pixel on it.”

“She’s here?”

He nods, scanning the ballroom. I assume he’s searching for her.

On the dance floor, couples and groups dance elegantly, practically floating around one another in perfect sync. It blows my mind how they can twirl so fluidly in their billowing layers and teetering heels. A slow, lazy beat plays loudly but crisply throughout the ballroom, dictating the pace of the dancers.

Massive chandeliers made of jewels and gilded chains hang above the dance floor, and off to the sides, more excessive drapery trails from the ceiling, down the walls, and all the way to the floor. It’d be overstimulating if it weren’t for the fact that all the textures, layers, and adornments bask in the same red glow.

Servers carrying trays of beverages mingle with the crowd. They wear identical, bland dresses with high necklines and skirts that skim the floor, and their masks have dark feathers on them.

When one of the servers offers up a tray to us, I politely turn them down. Archer follows suit.

“You can drink,” I say. “Not that you need my permission.”

He laughs softly, his eyes still darting around the room. “Not while I’m working.”

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