Page 125 of Savage Blood
“They’re Umbric tokens Roman enchanted,” Roxie said. “Barric is sending them as invitations. They’ll allow the attendees to access Karn’s manor during the party.”
Fane closed the distance, warming my side. “Only two?”
The former raven sneered. “I could only steal two without Jax noticing. He’s been eyeing me a lot these last few days.”
“What about Hawk?” If this mission went sideways, I couldn’t leave him imprisoned in the Underworld.
Roxie rubbed the demon tattoo absentmindedly, dragging Ruin’s attention back to it. “While Barric is distracted at the party, I’ll get Hawk out.”
“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” My talons slid out and blended into the ebony marble counter as I leaned over Roxie. “I’ll be right where Barric needs me.”
“I’m handing you a way in to kill Barric and free Hawk. Once you do”—she jerked his chin toward Ruin—“he’ll let me go.”
If the possessive look Ruin sported a few minutes ago was any indication, I wasn’t so sure he would let Roxie go. Ever.
“I guess we’ll have to take what we can get,” Fane said, his pupils thinning as he glared at the raven. “But if itisa trap, be prepared to die, Roxie. I will find you anywhere.”
Chapter
Thirty
Unease crackledover my skin as Fane and I walked right through the colossal front doors of Karn’s—now Barric’s—manor. The gothic décor was just as grand and ostentatious as usual, but now every silver and gold adornment shone as if someone had spent hours cleaning and polishing it.
And a massive silver tree with branches and roots webbing out—The Collective Hunt’s symbol—hung high on the left wall, shooting chills down my spine.
We were deep in enemy territory. There was no turning back.
Black and white floors gleamed under the crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the grand room, and dozens of candles burned in iron candelabras, in sconces, and along the food-bearing tables.
Speaking of food, the aroma of freshly grilled and smoked meat perfumed the air. Gold platters lined the tables against one wall, brimming with all types of delicacies, and red wine flowed from a fountain in the corner.
At least I hoped it was wine and not blood. There was no telling how twisted The Collective Nosterium had become.
“There are way too many enemies here for my liking,”I muttered into Fane’s mind, touching the black lace and satin mask covering the top half of my face.
What were the odds that Barric was throwing a fancy masquerade party? We didn’t need to disguise ourselves with a ton of glamours and spells when we blended right in with masks. Of course, Jess, a witch from Maleor Supreme, performed an enchantment to cloak our scents and another to change Fane’s blue eye so that it matched his golden-brown one.
He still looked ridiculously hot.
No one knew Fane and I were here except Ruin and Roxie, of course, and Wrath and Logan. The more people involved, the easier it would be for someone to slip up.
We also didn’t tell Saint.
My heart clenched at the thought of him. He wouldn’t want to speak to me anyway, and I rejected our bond to keep him safe. Telling him about this operation would be the opposite of that.
Fane slipped his fingers around my hand and lowered it back to my side.“Stop fidgeting. No one will suspect anything unless you don’t calm your racing heart and stop sweating.”
I flipped him off, ignoring the rumble in his chest. No one stood guard at the door to take our coins, but we wouldn’t have been able to walk through the door without them.
“I had no idea this many shifters were still part of The Collective Hunt,” Fane mumbled under his breath as he took in the guests lingering around the balcony above. “They’ve been flying under the radar for a long time.”
I recognized a few of Barric’s Collective Nosteriummembers. Onyx buttons gleamed on Wes’s charcoal-gray suit, his silver mask covering only the area around his eyes. He spoke to Amelia, who wore a navy tux. The plain white mask on her face did little to hide her constant scowl.
Logan was devastated when I wouldn’t wear the scarlet gown with flowing silk and taffeta and a gold-beaded bodice. I had to remind him the point was to blend in and that the dress would call attention to me like a neon sign on a dark street.
He pouted for ten minutes before finally throwing me a pair of black leather pants, a corset with red lace, and a leather jacket that covered the tattoos on my arm and neck. The fingerless lace gloves hid most of the delicate designs on my hand.
The combat boots were nonnegotiable. I was wearing them.
