17. Sophia

The Gala swirls around me, a tempest of silk and secrets, as I stand before Gerard Kray. His eyes gleam like shards of ice beneath the chandeliers. Oliver”s retreating back is the last thing I see before Kray”s voice draws me in, lisping lightly through unhidden fangs. All of the paranormals are really letting themselves be seen tonight.

The Gala has always been an event where the supernatural elite can mingle and plot under a veneer of glamour. Eventually, as the night goes on and everyone gets a little drunk on brew or herb or even power, all pretense peels away. Ravencourt”s true nature is paranormal power. I know that as a human, one of the few attending, I’m getting to see a side of the elites few humans know. Only the mages, those humans trained in all of the magical arts, can equal the powers on display here tonight.

Fae wear their sigils proudly, glowing silver tattoos that dance across their skin like living constellations. Vampires, like Kray, don’t bother to hide their elongated canines as they converse over glasses of red liquid that couldn’t possibly be wine. Dragon females wear their scales proudly, matching them with sequined gowns.

Some shifters are partially transformed, allowing claws to extend from fingertips, eyes to shimmer with predatory luminescence, and in one case, a tail to swish elegantly behind a satin tux. They revel in their partial beast forms as if daring anyone to question their place in this world.

And there I stand, amidst this menagerie, my heart hammering in my chest, talking to a vampire, who expects me to unload every secret I’ve learned. My humanity seems suddenly like a disadvantage.

Kray leans closer, his breath cool against my cheek. ”Ms. Carter,” he begins, his voice a silk thread weaving through the din of conversation around us. ”I must admit, I am curious about your... association with Lord Faulkner.”

His words are deliberate. I already know about Kray”s cunning and how he can sniff out secrets as easily as prey. As his spy, I was supposed to be just an extension of that ability. But my allegiances have changed.

”Lord Faulkner has been nothing but gracious,” I reply evenly, offering him a smile that I hope doesn”t betray my nerves. ”As for our association,” I continue, allowing the word to linger between us like bait, ”it is as professional as you could have hoped.”

Kray”s eyes narrow slightly—not in anger but in calculation. He takes a step back and appraises me with renewed interest. ”Of course,” he says smoothly. ”Professionally speaking, you’ve done what was needed I presume. Pillow talk is an age-old strategy. You”ve become quite the topic of conversation tonight, Sophia,” he says, tilting his head in mock admiration. “And I hope you have some conversation you’d like to share with me.”

I cross my arms, unimpressed. ”First a question. Did you know what kind of hornet’s nest you were sending me into? A proper heads-up would have been helpful.”

Kray”s laugh is low and smooth, a dangerous sound. ”I knew you could handle it. You have a knack for navigating treacherous waters.”

I narrow my eyes, parsing his words for hidden daggers. ”Navigating is one thing; being used as bait is another.”

His expression shifts, a masterful blend of sincerity and slyness. ”The game we play is much larger than Faulkner Enterprises or any petty squabbles between families. There are those within the highest echelons of Ravencourt fighting the Covenant from within... and those who are its willing agents.”

I feel a chill despite the warmth of the crowded room. Can I trust anything this man says? Is he offering help or weaving another layer into his web of deceit?

“Mr Kray,” I say, voice steady even as my pulse races. ”if there”s a side to choose, make it clear. Whose are you on?”

Kray leans in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. ”The question isn”t whose side I”m on. I”m always on my own side. But what are my goals? I do have friends and Lord Faulkner is one of my oldest…and best friends. A great evil has taken root in his family, Ms. Carter. I am loyal to who he was, if not who he is now. So the real question is about whether you’re able to help?”

Kray”s eyes shift past me, latching onto something—or someone—slipping through the throng of guests. The shadowy figure moves with purpose, and I can”t help but follow Kray”s gaze. The man”s silhouette is unfamiliar to me though.

”Ms. Carter,” Kray says, his voice slicing through my thoughts, ”tonight isn”t a night for the faint of heart. Especially not for humans.”

I turn back to him, finding his face etched with seriousness. It”s a stark contrast to the playful malice I”ve grown accustomed to.

”You should leave,” he continues, his voice low and urgent. ”Before the moon reaches its zenith. I’m telling you this as someone who values your talent. Leave and live to fight another day.”

His fangs catch the light as he speaks, a warning that the threats tonight are real and close.

My mind races as Kray”s words sink in. Every instinct screams that this is more than just another one of his games. The danger isn”t lurking in the shadows—it”s here, dressed in finery and smiling over champagne flutes.

But leaving now? That”s not an option. Not when every fiber of my being is tied to unraveling the threads of conspiracy that have bound Oliver and me together in this dance of deception and desire.

Kray steps back, ready to disappear into the crowd as easily as he appeared beside me. ”Take care, Sophia Carter,” he says, his tone almost... respectful? ”You”re braver than most, but bravery won”t stop what”s coming. You can”t fight with tooth or claw. So I recommend you find someone who can. Oliver Faulkner has a lot to prove…to everyone. Just be prepared for that.”

And then he”s gone, leaving me alone with a thrumming pulse and a mind ablaze with questions.

What does Kray know that he isn”t saying? Is his warning genuine concern or another move in this high-stakes chess game?

I feel exposed, standing here among creatures of night and magic—beings who see humans as little more than servants. Oliver”s presence lingers in my thoughts. If there”s one thing I know about myself, it”s that I don”t back down from a challenge—not when people I care about are at risk.

Where is Oliver?

I scan the room once more, every sense heightened. The atmosphere is charged with an electric current of anticipation—everyone here senses it, a storm brewing on the horizon.

I slip through the throng, my mind a whirlwind. I need to find Oliver. As I navigate the crowd, my phone vibrates once with an incoming message. I slip into a shadowed alcove and glance at the screen.

The text message is from Jason”s number again—a number I know now should no longer be in service. My breath catches as I read the words: ”You are invited to find out the truth.”

Jason? Impossible. Yet here it is, another message from ‘beyond,’ a digital whisper from the grave. Surely it’s a trap.

But what if it”s not? What if this is the clue we”ve been searching for—the key to unraveling the Shadow Covenant”s secrets? Who is using Jason’s phone number to hide their communications? The Gala buzzes around me, but I feel a thousand miles away.

I type out a response before I can second-guess myself. ”Where?”

The reply comes almost instantly. ”The secret passage…take it.”

After one last glance around for Oliver, I edge my way towards the panel Oliver and I found that night--only two nights ago? The place where we were almost trapped, the place where instead we...truly met. I smile. I have to admit, I might have a slight kink for the scent of cleaning fluid now.

That”s the way, Fee! Cover your terror with jokes!

Before I can get there, a hand clasps my shoulder firmly. Irene, her grip demanding and cold.

”Sophia,” she hisses urgently into my ear, ”we need to talk.” Her eyes flicker with something dark and desperate. A thousand questions race through my mind as she pulls me aside just as Oliver glances our way from across the room. But he doesn’t see me and is swallowed by the crowd once again and I turn back to find Irene has the pallor of someone bearing grave news or dire warnings. Or maybe someone who isn’t feeling quite herself.

She holds out her phone to me. ”I know you know everything. So explain this.”

On her phone, the exact same text I just received.

”Irene, someone”s playing us both. I know you think it”s a voice from the beyond. But that can”t be Jason. Please tell me you understand that?”

She blinks with denial. She is not going to believe me.

”Sophia. He will come. He promised me. Tonight. The Covenant is bringing him back tonight!”

”Like coming back from the dead? No Sophia, that”s not possible, even for paranormals. I”m sorry.”

She”s ignoring my words completely, dragging me towards the paneled door with werewolf strength, not at all impeded by her high heels and green silk gown. My head”s on a pivot, trying to catch a glimpse of Oliver through the crowd but when I don”t see him, I just let her drag me towards the hidden passage.

Armand Smith has apparently left his post. We both slip inside.

There, in the dark, I find a tall man, waiting.

Thank the angels--Oliver!

”Why are you hiding from me?” I hiss.

”I hide from everyone,” the voice replies. A voice that is not Oliver”s.

A hand across my face. The sweet scent of chloroform. And then, of course, everything goes black.