fairly good job of concealing everyone’s identity. If not for his voice, I’d have never recognized Rand in the hallway.
It isn’t long before we reach Makaio, who waves us inside.
“Master Blackthorne would like you to start playing in about twenty minutes, or so. That’s when the orchestra is due for a break.” As soon as Rand says it, I notice the music beneath the din of laughter and conversation. A stage has been set up toward the back of the room, where a small orchestra sits, and beside them, the piano that I’ll be playing.
“Got it.” The scenery continues to lure my gaze, drawing my eyes toward the ceiling that I can see, now I’m inside the room, has been made to look like the glow of a flame overhead. Still, I can’t make out what’s in the cages, but the spectacle of it enthralls me so much, I don’t notice Rand is no longer beside me.
Curious, I cross the room, ignoring the unwanted stares of those I pass, both men and women, as I make my way toward one of the beautiful, gilded cages. It’s only when I’m up close that I can finally make out the dark creatures fluttering around inside. Large moths from the looks of it, and on their backs is a strange marking that resembles a skull.
“Acherontia atropos.”
The deep, rich sound in my ear sends a flutter through my chest, mirroring that of the moths’ wings against the cage. My blood sizzles, and the air seems to grow thinner. I turn to find a tall, handsome figure rounding the cage from the other side.
Wearing a demi-mask, and a perfectly-tailored black brocade coat over a gray vest and white shirt beneath, Lucian looks both handsome and diabolically wicked, like something out of a gothic novel. “It’s named after Archeron, the river of pain and sorrows, and atropos, eldest of three fates who cut the thread of life. More commonly known as the death’s-head hawkmoth,” he continues, and my cheeks flush at the sight of him. The mask completely covers the scarred half of his face, leaving only the too-handsome side of him exposed. “People once believed they were an evil omen.” He runs his fingers along the outside of the cage. “Two moths were discovered in the bedchamber of Mad King George the Third during a bout of psychosis. It’s said the incessant squealing sounds they made plagued on his weakened mind.”
“And you keep them in beautiful cages as pets.”
“I appreciate things that others tend to fear and cast off as evil.”
Stepping to the side, he lifts one of the candles from a cluster on a nearby table and holds it up to the cage. The moths flutter and climb the spindles of the cage toward the flickering light.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?” he asks, keeping the candle just far enough away so as not to harm the insects inside. “The way they flock to torment. Death. A fatal attraction.”
“Can you blame them? Fire is warm and inviting.”
“How tragic, to crave the very thing that can destroy you. If I opened this cage, we’d watch them burn alive.”
“That’s … macabre when you put it that way.”
Twisting around, he sets the candle back down alongside the others and turns his attention back to me. “You chose this dress?” Beneath the shimmer of appreciation in his eyes lies a shadow of annoyance that mirrors the tone of his voice.
“You don’t like it?”
“Everyone is looking at you.”
Over my shoulder, I glimpse a few gazes in my direction, one of whom comes from the man I followed inside. “This bothers you.”
“Yes.” He steps around the cage until he’s standing beside me, and a shiver skitters down my back when his lips feather my ear. Heat blooms inside of me, the dress suddenly too hot and tight against my skin. “It’s as if they want to consume you alive. Or perhaps it’s the other way around, like the moths to the candle.”
I turn just enough that our lips nearly touch. “You were looking at me, too.”
Scintillating amber eyes dip to my dress and back. “If I suspected any one of these bastards were thinking the same thing I was when I first saw you, I’d kill them all.”
“I’m too young for you, remember?”
“You are.” The gentle brush of his knuckles along the edge of my neck has my heart hammering inside my chest. “And too tempting.”
“What torture that must be.”
“You have no idea. Particularly with how ravishing you look tonight.”