your frustrations out on me.”
His jaw dropped. “How dare you speak to me like that.”
“Likewise. Now get out of my way before you start to really annoy me.”
And before the others noticed. She had no qualms airing him out as an ass to the whole party, but their fight was on the stage. Whatever bait he was trying to throw at her, like hell she would give him the satisfaction of taking it where everyone could see.
The young man’s nostrils flared. “Funny how you act all high and mighty when you have no reason for it. I’ve only seen your kind at the underground clubs and bars, the only places girls like you belong.”
Kallia’s blood boiled. Don’t. Her fist tightened at her side, and she kept it there. Trembling. The instant Ives noticed it, his awful leer sharpened. “But none of you make it to the top, and we all know why. You’re just a spectacle, something pretty to look at—nothing more.”
“And how can you be so certain I’m nothing more?” Kallia drawled, a cold calm falling over her. “When it was the crowd who cheered my name tonight, and had all but forgotten yours?”
His face reddened. “That loose mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble if you don’t—”
“If she doesn’t what?”
Demarco had appeared at the foot of the stairs. Leaning against the bannister, unamused. Normally Kallia would roll her eyes at his official airs, but his presence exuded a force no one wanted to go up against. Certainly not the drunken magician, who’d scrambled off instantly with nothing more than an apologetic squeak.
“An unnecessary rescue, Mister Demarco. I was handling it.” Kallia inhaled, raking an exhausted hand through her hair.
“No doubt,” he said, looking up the length of the stairs. “He was shaking with fear as you were practically stumbling up.”
“You were watching me?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked at her suggestive tone. “You dropped something.” He brought around a rose he’d kept behind his back. The poor flower had lost more of its petals, its head hanging limply over the stem.
Kallia refused to smile at the beaten rose. A small scowl twisted her lips instead. “Keep it. A rose for a rescue. Now we’re even.”
“What need do I have for it?” he asked, though he held onto it while gesturing up the stairs. “I was heading in the same direction, anyway. Thought it was time to call it a night.”
“Not one for parties?”
“Not anymore.”
It was impossible to miss the hardness in his voice, and something small within the cracks. A secret. That she wanted to know it irritated her more than anything, especially after hearing those ladies gabbing on about him earlier. “Walk with me, then. We are neighbors, after all.”
Demarco cast a wary look across the sea of bodies surrounding them. “Maybe you should go first. I’ll keep a few steps back.”
“Embarrassed to be seen with me?”
“No,” he exclaimed with such earnestness, she almost laughed. “It’s just … you know, people might think—”
“That we are going up the stairs and walking to our rooms?” Kallia held her chin high before taking the first step. “If they’re inclined to spin stories, they’re the ones with the problem. Not us.”
“They’ll spin stories, either way.”
She continued on her way, regardless. A faction of the party already thought the worst of her, so it made no difference who she traveled up and down the stairs with. Though at the sound of him following behind her instantly, she couldn’t help the flare of satisfaction working itself into a small grin. “What are you afraid they’ll say? I heard you’re no stranger to the gossip papers.”
“No friend to them, either.” His tone turned cautious. “Whatever you’ve heard about me, it’s most likely false.”
“Then you’ll no doubt be thrilled to know that I haven’t heard much.” Some business with his assistant, she recalled. So vague, yet Kallia had turned the possibilities over in her head. She’d never admit it, never give him an inch of her interest, but she was curious.
Too curious.
Before she could act on it, she stumbled over a step. Instantly, his hand was at her back, steadying her. A quick, instinctive move on his part; a total halt of the body on hers.
“You’re exhausted.” He ushered her forward, sounding as concerned as Aaros. That she could endure, but not from a judge. Not Demarco.
When they finally reached the top, far from the gaze of the party, Kallia dove away from his hand. The spot remained too warm for