Page 105 of It All Started with a Bite

“Bet you want to take your alpha for a ride right about now, huh?” my dog sassed.

Samuel’s shoulders trembled.

“Can you please not,” I told Bo coolly.

Gavin’s voice crackled in our earpieces as we headed for the entrance.

“Three of the valets are vampire mercenaries,” the dragon newt warned. “Nigel just ran their faces through his databases.”

Caroline and Kent tensed. Samuel’s expression darkened.

I focused on the scents swarming the air. It didn’t take long to clock the vampires. They weaved a thin red trail of nervous adrenaline that stood out among the chaotic bouquet rising from the supernatural creatures arriving for the ball.

“I see them,” I murmured.

The Hawthornes followed my gaze discreetly.

“They smell like trouble and cologne,” Bo huffed.

“Cheap cologne,” Pearl added acerbically.

The grand foyer was already full of figures in evening wear.

I observed our surroundings curiously as we followed them through the mansion. Though the decor was fancy, there was something off about the place. Maybe it was the way the shadows seemed deeper than they should be. Or maybe it was the magic I could feel deep beneath my feet.

Bo moved closer to me. “I don’t like this place.”

“Indeed.” Pearl flicked her tail irritably. “The ley lines are making my fur stand on end.”

I looked at the cat, surprised. “You can feel them too?”

Pearl blinked, tail freezing for a moment. “I’m more surprised that you can.”

“It’s probably because you’re a white wolf,” Victoria murmured uneasily. “I believe Elizabeth was similarly sensitive to magic.”

I sobered at that.

We emerged into a vast ballroom with a domed ceiling that offered a beautiful view of the night sky. Elaborate flower arrangements dotted the long tables brimming with appetizers and champagne towers along the walls. Waiters circulated across the floor, silver trays full of sparkling flutes and canapés. A string quartet played on a raised dais at the head of the room.

“They really went all out, huh?” Caroline murmured.

“The Holts had a reputation for holding the best balls in our community,” Victoria observed. “Before the incident with Arthur, that is.”

I recognized many of the guests from the tea party at Château Montmartre. The Tremaines were deep in conversation with the Lincoln sisters across the way. Helen held court near a massive fireplace, the usual crowd of sycophants around her.

Pearl sniffed the air. “I smell caviar.” Her tail swayed happily.

“Want to go check out the menu?” Bo huffed.

Pearl hopped onto my dog’s back. “Take it away, maestro.”

We watched the pair disappear toward a catering table, the assembled guests startling and moving out of the way when they clocked their presence.

Hugh grimaced. “Anyone else think they make a freaky couple?”

“Yes,” we replied as one.

“Are they going to be okay?” Kent asked worriedly.

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