Page 58 of Desperately Yours

Reginald intercepted me, oblivious to the task at hand. “Up next you’ll be dancing a waltz with the Princess of—”

“I need a break.” I didn’t wait on permission but kept walking. “Play something American that people can dance to.”

“American?” Reginald looked ready to pop every button on his waistcoat. “How uncivilized.”

I shrugged. “Go Canadian then. German. Put on polka. I don’t care. Just buy me five minutes, yes?” My palms hit the doors and the cold air welcomed me into its embrace. I hadn’t realized how hot I’d become in that oppressive room. Though massive, I feltthe walls were closing in on me, my future inevitable, and the world crumbling.

“You have news.” It wasn’t a question I posed to my cousin, but rather a demand for answers. “What did you find?”

“First of all,” Bishop put up his hands as though he needed to calm me, “remember I had no way of knowing she was onto something.”

My heart sank as my stomach tied into a knot. Fists clenched tight, I strode toward him. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” His hands came up farther, blocking his pretty boy face from damage I badly wanted to inflict. “But all things considered, maybe I could have listened a little better.”

“Out with it.”

“The cellar, at first it looked normal, but then…” Bishop’s shoulders slumped. “I turned the corner and clearly there had a been a struggle. Crates are busted and it’s a mess. I found Michaela’s phone under some of the rubble.” He didn’t want to say the rest. “Close as I can tell, someone dragged her out of there.”

Stunned, words raced through my mind but wouldn’t form in my mouth. How long ago had she been abducted? Where had they taken her? And what about—

“The note?” I asked aloud. “Did she—”

Bishop shook his head. “I doubt it. My money is on someone forcing her to write it.”

Sincerely, Michaela.

It was a cry for help. Something so far off our normal, she wanted me to know she was in trouble.

“But where is she?” I asked. “Do you have any ideas?”

Bishop shrugged, obviously hopeless. “I’ll keep looking, but it would help if you would stall a bit. Dance more than you should, demand the wedding at midnight, whatever it takes. I know your mother is eager to get this done but—”

“I’ll do what I can,” I assured him. The cold started to get to me. I shivered and bounced to get my blood moving. On nights like tonight, no one could stay outside long without risking hypothermia or frostbite. “Take Kabir. Tell him what you found. You’re the only two I trust.”

“You better get back in there,” Bishop cautioned. “Someone didn’t want Michaela here tonight and the last thing you want is to tip them off.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. My feet started to return to the ball, but my thoughts remained locked in on what Bishop said.

Someone didn’t want Michaela at the ball. Unfortunately, that list was longer than I wanted to admit. Remaining undeterred by the night’s events might spare Michaela’s life so that Kabir and Bishop could find her. But with everyone I knew in attendance at the ball, who was responsible?

Who would want to hurt Michaela?

Who could be that cruel?

Michaela

My back collided with the metal roof first. Tumbling, rolling without brakes, I flipped down the sheer slope of the neighboring roof. The world swirled in a haze of stars and citylights, unable to tell the difference between the two. I tried to grab something, anything. Determined to slow my momentum somehow but my grasp was too slick and I found no handhold, just terrifying descent.

The edge of the roof cut into my shoulder and I had seconds to react. I locked my grip around the metal lip and clung tight. My legs slid off the precipice, dangling below me, but my grip remained true. Oxygen rushed in and out of my lungs as tears carved down my cheeks in exhausted relief. A delirious laugh rocked my frame, but sobs threatened to take over and I clamped my mouth shut, determined to ignore both.

I dared not look down. Even with the fall and the distance I’d gained in my early climb down, I knew I was still way too high to let go and drop. Instead, I stretched with my toes, hoping for some kind of ledge or outcropping. The toe of my shoe caught stone. My breathing turned heady and desperate, eager to feel something solid underneath me again. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t keep a hold of the stone with my toes.

Within a second, I knew the answer.

Once more, I had to drop. Only this time, the landing zone wasn’t directly underneath me, it was angled inward. I needed to swing and drop at once, all without losing my balance.

The metal cut into my hands. Blood curled down my wrist, the injury from the gargoyle’s teeth torn open by my fall on the roof. Every second it oozed, my grip turned slippery. Within seconds, my body would make the choice for me and I would have to give the reins to gravity again.

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