And a little creepy, I added silently. Very Eyes Wide Shut.
And very Venetian. That’s a medico della peste, he said. It’s based on a mask that was used by doctors to protect them from the plague.
It’s disturbing.
Some find that to be part of the appeal, Ethan said, but sidled closer as the masked man circled us, his eyes trained on us like a ballet dancer even as his body spun.
“That was creepy,” I said as he finally moved away.
“It was,” Ethan said, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. He handed me one, then tapped his glass delicately against mine. “Sentinel, I’ll say it again: You look ravishing.”
Because I agreed with him, I shared his smile. “You have excellent taste. And I’m not just saying that because we’re dating.”
“But it doesn’t hurt.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” I agreed, and sipped. The champagne was smoky and peachy at the same time. An odd combination, but it worked. I hadn’t yet seen a snack tray, but the drink gave me hope they’d also be good.
“Do you see him anywhere?”
I glanced back at Ethan. “Reed or my father?”
“Either. I’m surprised Reed isn’t making the rounds—and your father isn’t at his side.”
“What do you know about this Towerline project?”
“Not a lot,” Ethan said, shifting to avoid the swoop of a juggler snatching an errant baton. “I’ve read about it, seen the plans in the paper. It’s reportedly the biggest deal your father has ever closed.”
“And he wants Reed as an investor?”
“That would be my guess. A project that large will take a lot of financing.” Ethan touched my arm, nodded toward the other side of the room. “And I believe we’ve just received our summoning.”
I followed his gaze. A man on the other side of the room—also tall and lean, but with dark hair and pale blue eyes that matched mine—gestured with two fingers, beckoning me to him in the same fashion he called his servants.
I managed not to growl.
“Beware, Sentinel. Humans are the fiercest predators of all.”
“Well aware,” I said, using one of Ethan’s favorite phrases.
With Ethan’s hand at my back, we crossed the ballroom.
“Joshua,” Ethan said when we reached him.
He offered Ethan a handshake. “Congratulations on your promotion.”
“Thank you.”
“Merit,” he said to me, without pleasantries.
“Dad.”
Always charming, Ethan said silently, then gestured to the room. “This is quite an affair.”
“Adrien enjoys a good show. He’d like to meet you. I’ll take you upstairs.” He turned on his heel, headed toward the staircase. My father was undeniably absorbed by business, but for him to act as majordomo for anyone was utterly out of character. And oddly sycophantic.
The deal must not be done if he’s doing Reed’s business, Ethan said silently.
My thoughts exactly. But we’d come here for a purpose, so we followed him to the stairs, climbed treads of pink marble warped with age and the wear of thousands of footsteps. Thankfully, going up was a lot easier than going down, so Ethan didn’t have to bear the burden of my purse.