Page 18 of The Blood that Binds Us

I bite my lip as I fail to come up with an excuse quickly enough, and after an awkward number of seconds later, I slip my hand into his. Fine.I already put on the damn dress. His smile stretches too wide for his face, and he leads me towards the center of the floor. We separate so we face each other from opposite sides as the musicians play an opening piece, a warning the number is about to begin, sending the last of the ladies scurrying to take their places.

The dance is simple. Bennett and I step towards each other, and placing our palms together, we move in a slow circle. First one direction, then the other, before dropping our hands and switching sides. As we step around each other, I notice Bennett is rather handsome, if you are attracted to noble men who look the part. And judging from his wandering eyes sweeping from my neck to the ties of my bodice, I am willing to wager he finds me attractive too. We join hands again, and he spins me away from him, his hand finding the small of my back as I twirl back. Nervous laughter spills from my lips, and I regret the awful sound immediately. As we sidestep, my feet perfectly in line with the ladies who have undoubtedly danced at dozens of balls, Bennett angles his head towards me.

“You look as delicious as the feast, Lady Wren.”

I smile with forced sweetness. “Do you always charm ladies by comparing them to beef pies, Mr. Langston?”

He laughs quietly and presses his lips against my ear. I stiffen at the contact. “Only the ones I’d love to taste.”

Oh, royal men, how they take my breath away with their scintillating compliments.

Saving me fromthatuncomfortable exchange, the music slows to a close, and we bow to one another. Bennett reaches for my hand and kisses the back of my knuckles again.

“Mr. Langston.”

I never thought the sound of the Black Art’s voice would bring me relief.

“Your Grace,” Bennett says, his attention snapping behind me as he dips into a deep bow.

“I see you’ve met my friend.” Sin’s mouth twitches into a slight smile as he steps up next to us, and I’d be surprised if the forcedness of it didn’t cause him pain.Is my presence truly that disgusting to you, Your Grace?

“She was just doing this fool the honor of dancing with him.” Bennett shoots a coy wink in my direction.

“I was visiting with your father. He appears to be keeping sound health, as do you, Mr. Langston.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. We are keeping well indeed.”

“May I steal a dance with our lovely friend?” Sin asks, as if Bennett could refuse if he wanted to.

Bennett leans at the waist once more and glances my way. “My Lady,” he says in farewell before turning and leaving us.

I hold in the smirk. I have spent my life pretending to be something I’m not, but never once have I pretended to be a lady. While grateful for the distance between Bennett and myself, I swallow hard before turning back to face Sin, who has already assumed his place on the gentlemen’s side of the floor. Taking my spot opposite him, I lift my chin and set my feet in the proper position to begin.

The weight of the room presses in on me as heads turn and stares burn into my back. No one here recognizes me, and they are no doubt wondering who the mystery woman is, and why the Black Art has asked her to dance. I share in their curiosity.

Slowly, he drags his stare up my body and back down again, and I swear layers of my skin begin to melt away everywhere his eyes peruse over me, lingering on the fit of my dress and the lines of my neck.Sad you didn’t get to rip my throat out, Your Grace? I fix him with a molten leer of my own.

His black hair, secured at his neck with a leather tie, falls down the back of his reddish-brown coat. His jacket fits snuggly in the shoulders and arms, showing off the swells of muscle beneath, and his black pants are tighter than the baggy ones I’d seen him in before. If Bennett is handsome, Sin is something darker, wilder, and infinitely more dangerous. He raises a dark eyebrow at me, and I can almost hear his question in that stupid, low voice of his—like what you see, witch?

The wailing of violins fills the space, and I step towards him, the skirts of my gown sliding across the stone floor behind me. He exposes his palms and I don’t hesitate pressing mine against them. Something reminiscent of a static charge pulses between our hands, as if the magic in mine is reacting to the power in his. I’m not certain he feels it too, but I swear his narrow eyes widen slightly as if he does. Or maybe he is just repulsed by the thought of brushing skin with a bloodwitch.

“Do you know who the Langstons are?” Sin asks.

“I don’t know who anyone here is.”

“They manage Aegidale’s trade, domestically and with our neighbors across the sea. Their support—particularly Bennett’s father, Sterling Langston—is very important to my father and I.”

“You want me to get a read on this Sterling?”

He shakes his head. “I want you to stay very close toBennettfor the evening. If the Langstons are up to something, he’s privy to it. Find me immediately if there is anything indicative he is conspiring with…” he cuts himself off, glancing at the dancing couples on either side of us. “Conspiring withthem,” he finishes.

“Do you think he might know anything about my family? If…they… have come for them?”

He spins me away from him, and when I whirl back, he slips one hand to my waist and pulls me closer to him. “Unlikely he does, but I might,” he purrs, his voice too low for anyone but me to hear.

“What do you know?”

“There isn’t a lot I don’t know, Wren.” His voice sounds almost disinterested, but in the few encounters I’ve had the displeasure of sharing with the Black Art, I’ve come to recognize the forced levelness of his tone right before he proposes a one-sided bargain.

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