the house slammed his palm against the wall, the House shuddered.
There was no way they would leave her be tomorrow. Not in that house, at night, at a party so much like the ones they used to throw.
It made him sick, the way history circled itself. The farther he thought he’d gone, the closer he was.
Inevitable.
That’s what Sire always told him, with the way he ran the city of mortals. How he ran this House by day, and the club at night.
Memories.
His specialty, and his mercy.
His mistake. No matter how much he took, it always came back, a story far too ugly to be retold and remembered. One he thought could die if no one spoke of it again.
He was wrong.
And she was in trouble.
The master clenched his fist against the wall, running his thumb against the black brass over his fingers. Perhaps it was always meant to happen—this unavoidable game, one that began long before she stepped into that damned city. It would come alive like a risen hell and swallow her whole, back in a cage without even the grace of a lock and key. Only bars.
He couldn’t bear the thought.
Beyond his fear, he feared for her more.
That night, the candles of the House went dark. He laid to rest his loyal illusions, destroyed the path that led to his club as best as he could. There was no longer a need for it. No need for guests or their business or secrets. No more masks, no more hiding.
No more.
The master said his good-byes to the kingdom he’d built, and prepared to return to the one he’d once served.
47
The Alastor Place was a force of splendor against the night. No longer the shadowy towering structure of ruin Daron remembered upon first seeing it. No longer the stranger on the street you wanted nothing to do with, but the one across the room who intrigued you.
The ornate exterior held its same dark hold against the dusky sky, but inside, it burst with light. Life and laughter bubbled from the main entrance like champagne fizzing into sparkling flutes. Not unlike the audiences that flowed through the building before, but Janette had purposefully ordered the show hall to remain locked. Tomorrow, the last performance would begin.
Tonight was all about celebration.
Of what, Daron didn’t know anymore. All the accidents culminating into this, all the participants missing an event meant for them, only added to the mounting wrongness of tonight.
At the first set of doors, a servant stopped him to pin a bright rosebud on his lapel, a token every attendee bore. Daron joined the sea of red roses, just as floored as those exploring the Alastor Place for the first time, all gaping mouths and eyes tilted up to devour every inch of lushly painted ceiling. Small chandeliers hung like sparkling bushes of crystal flowers, gradually increasing in size down the trail to the opened double doors leading into the Court of Mirrors.
Immediately, two bodies flanked him.
“Demarco, you’re looking sharp.” Erasmus patted him swiftly across the shoulder while they descended the grand staircase. “Not escorting anyone tonight, are you?”
Figures he would aim straight for that. “Didn’t realize I needed to.”
“Of course not,” Lottie chimed in. “We both came alone, but do you think either of us is leaving the same?” Once they reached the bottom, she straightened the rose latched to her ex-husband’s breast pocket before laying a hand on his chest. If Daron didn’t feel like he belonged in this conversation before, he definitely didn’t feel so now.
“Where’s my star magician?” The proprietor eagerly lifted a flute off a passing tray. “I thought surely she would’ve arrived with you.”
A knowingness laced his tone that prickled at Daron. He had nothing to hide with Kallia. In times like this, though, he was relieved that as much as people assumed, they controlled the truth. At least it was theirs.
“I’m her mentor,” Daron scoffed. “Not her keeper.”
“Fine, fine. Absolutely nothing is going on with you two down in the Ranza Estate.” Erasmus winked. “So dedicated, practicing at every free moment. Hope you’re ready to dazzle us with a spectacular act when the time comes.”
They’d been practicing far more than any other pair, from what Daron could gather. But what they had up their sleeves couldn’t compare to what he had with Kallia. A true partnership. The act was hers, but the stage would be theirs.
But after that, what then?
“We’re ready, don’t you worry.”
Erasmus let out a noise of delight as he gulped down the