Chapter Fifty-Four

"Kierse, stop fidgeting," Torra hissed at her. "You already look out of place. Try to glaze your eyes over and look a little more drugged."

Torra had suggested that Kierse sneak into King Louis's Winter Solstice party with the rest of the people from Red Velvet. Though she would have much preferred Kierse not go at all, it was their best chance of getting Torra out on the other side. Plus, Torra had been dealing with King Louis for a year. If she said the invitation that Graves had wasn't going to get her in, then she believed her.

Graves had agreed, too, and he planned to get in through the underground tunnel she had mapped out that day with Walter. They would meet up once they were inside, with Torra escaping to the tunnel before the carnage occurred and meeting Kierse and Graves at the exit after they retrieved the spear.

All of the heist planning came down to this moment, when Kierse had to convincingly look like a Red Velvet girl.

Except that Kierse didn't look like one at all. She'd seen the sun and didn't appear to be wasting away. But with a ton of makeup, the scanty outfit, and heeled boots, she thought she did an okay job of fitting in. It helped that all the workers were wrapped in white Red Velvet cloaks with high collars as they were escorted toward a back entrance. The cloak did the job for now, but Torra had insisted she tell everyone she was new if they noticed she had no bite marks.

Kierse held her breath and tried to look more like a zombie as she reached the front of the line. The vampire guard scrutinized her. "You're from Red Velvet?"

She dipped her chin and looked back at Torra with what she hoped was timidity and concern. "I'm new," she whispered, barely audible.

"What was that?"

"She's new," Torra spat, forcing his attention back to her. "Just a new debtor hoping to pay her shit off with this tonight. Can we move along? I want to get paid."

The monster glared at Torra, and Kierse hastily slipped through the door. She'd worn many costumes and disguises in her line of work, but this was next-level. There was a slim margin of error for this to go right and a huge window for it to go terribly wrong.

Torra touched Kierse's back, and they scurried into the entertainment holding area. It was a diverse group being housed in what appeared to be a seldom-used warehouse. Boxes were stacked high against the walls, and the rest of the room was full of humans who would be the main course and entertainment for King Louis's party.

"At least try to be careful," Torra hissed into her ear.

"You know me."

"That's why I'm telling you."

"Just stick to the plan," Kierse told her. "And if all goes well, we'll both be on the outside before the end of the evening."

They were closer to the party entrance now. Workers from Red Velvet shucked off their robes, revealing various tiny white lingerie—a white satin baby doll on one, white leather briefs and nipple tassels on another, a sheer lace bodysuit on the next—and passed them to a handler before stepping across the threshold.

Torra turned to Kierse then. Their eyes met across the short distance. She looked pained, as if she wanted to say more, to tell her to stop, go back. But she said none of it.

She just nodded her head with wide doe eyes. And then it was her turn. Torra shrugged out of her robe, showing off the white teddy that buttoned up to a choker around her neck, and entered in front of Kierse, who had no option but to do the same.

As soon as Kierse discarded her robe, she felt exposed. With Kierse's muscle mass, a lot of the lingerie was too tight on her. They'd had to go with a white corset that lifted her breasts practically to her throat. Graves had gotten the outfit tailored with slots for throwing knives, since they were sneaking in the back way now. The corset was coupled with a frilly panty-and-garter set attached to white thigh highs. Her white boots came up just over her knees, where she'd hidden two handled knives that were better for fighting. Torra's eyes had gone distant when she saw the outfit, swearing they were never going to believe she was one of them.

Now she was here. And she could be nothing but one of them. So, she swayed forward down the hallway and into King Louis's Winter Solstice party.

Kierse hadn't known something so beautiful existed in the underworld. Everything was usually so dark and mysterious. An air of staleness and vulgarity. But this ballroom held none of that. The marble flooring had been polished until it gleamed. Tall, towering columns lined the room made of the same white marble. The ceiling was something out of one of Graves's storybooks. An intricately detailed painting stretched across the length of the domed ceiling that was half glorious, winged angels fighting a godly war—blood rippling down bodies and pain written across faces—and half angels lying naked in comfort and luxury. The message was clear. Only through war, death, and suffering could the comforts of life endure.

Kierse tried not to get swept up in the rest of the gilded hall. Gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Waiters carried golden goblets on golden trays. Monsters lined the room, predominately male but some female. Gold pins were on the lapel of every monster in the room. As she peered closer, she saw it was a set of wings with an arrow struck through them. The mark of the Men of Valor.

She had assumed that it would be only vampires at the party, and while they were the majority, they were far from alone. Shifters rippled at the periphery. A mer spun a Red Velvet girl in a circle. A troll trudged through the hall. A goblin downed a bottle of wine with her compatriots. Nymphs danced to a tune only they could hear. And wraiths were everywhere. They were only missing werewolves in their midst. It appeared even monsters didn't want to deal with a wolf on the full moon.

Her breath caught as she realized that she recognized one of the wraiths—Gregory Amberdash.

Her face flushed. He was in the Men of Valor? He wanted to end the Monster Treaty? Her vision blurred at the edges at that thought. He'd sold her out to Lorcan, but she hadn't thought he was stupid enough to want this.

She backtracked away from Amberdash. The last thing she wanted was for him to compromise her mission. But as she turned to escape, she nearly ran into a vampire. Her gaze snagged on her Men of Valor pin.

She grinned at Kierse. "Are you admiring our signet pins?"

She cleared her throat. "Quite."

"They mark us as the Men of Valor."

Kierse forced herself to keep smiling. "What is the meaning of it?"

The woman ran a bloodred nail down Kierse's jaw. "It's a reminder that wings can always be broken. That those who attempt to fly free can be cut down. More importantly, it's a symbol to remind us of where we belong—monsters ruling once more."

"As you are doing here?"

"Rightly so," she said, passing her a goblet. She thought it would be blood but saw that it was just wine. "Have a drink, my angel."

"I have no wings."

"Not anymore," she purred.

Kierse pretended to take a tentative sip of the wine and then handed it back to the vampire. "Thank you. I must go find my benefactor."

"Oh? I thought all of you were up for grabs." She clutched Kierse's ass to make his point.

She had to brace herself not to draw the dagger from beneath her snow-white corset and ram it into her throat. "Almost all of us," she said with a conspiratorial wink and then hastened away from the vampire.

Thankfully, she didn't pursue her. But when she flicked her eyes back to her, she had already entertained herself with a young boy. Kierse cringed. It made her think of Ethan, and she didn't like that one bit. Not any of it.

She just needed to remind herself of the plan. Just... where the hell was Graves?

He should have been here before she had to parade around this party in nothing but lingerie. It was a disguise, but it wouldn't hold long if he didn't make it inside. And she had no intention of being bitten tonight... or ever.

Kierse made a slow circuit of the room. Her training as a thief had taught her how to work a room and remain unnoticed. It was harder to stay in the shadows in a white corset, but it wasn't impossible. Most of the workers wanted to be noticed. It was their job. So, she took in the sight before her. The horde of monsters and their meals for the evening. How quickly the Red Velvet workers were snatched up. No sign of Torra, though. Hopefully that meant she'd gotten out already.

There was still no sight of King Louis. Perhaps he planned to make a grand entrance. It seemed his style. He liked the mystery that surrounded him all while he ran things behind the scenes.

Kierse ground her teeth together and slunk deeper into the depths of the colossal ballroom. She was halfway to the other side of the room, nearest the dais, when a hand snaked around her wrist.

"Hello there, pretty thing," a man said from the shadows. He was tall and fair skinned, with eyes like those of an eagle about to catch a mouse. "What is your name?"

She stilled and tried to appear coy and drugged like the others. It was hard as she stared into the eyes of a vampire. "Hello," she purred. "I'm Kendra. And you are?"

"Wilson Bellack," he said evenly as if it should mean something to her. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Off to?"

"You were sneaking about the ballroom. Looking for someone?"

He was closer than she liked to admit. But he didn't know it.

"I'm promised to someone," she said breathily. "He is of high rank among the Men of Valor."

"Is he now? Then perhaps I would know who he is."

"Perhaps," she said. She twisted her wrist gently, and her hand slid out of his.

"Then who is he?"

"When I find him, I'll introduce you."

"I think not," he said instead. His hand slid around her waist, holding her tight against him. She fought to keep from shivering as he radiated cold. "All of you lot are available. It's his fault that he left such a wild rose free to bloom alone."

Kierse batted her eyelashes. "I think that perhaps..."

"We didn't pay for you to think," he snarled.

Then he slapped her across the face.

Shock stung her more than the hit itself. It wasn't to cause pain. It was to keep her in her place. He had clearly done it many times. He'd probably even known exactly how hard to hit her so that it wouldn't leave any kind of mark. She knew, because Jason had hit her like that more times than she could count. She pushed down the familiar memory of that hit. Pushed it far, far away.

Her hand went to her face, but she kept her eyes carefully away from his. Because she knew that in them smoldered a dark intensity that said she would kill him where he stood for touching her.

"Now, you will be with me. I already have a room," Wilson said, grasping her upper arm with more force and shuffling her toward an exit.

Kierse almost sighed with relief. Yes, a room would be lovely. That would mean she could incapacitate him somewhere private instead of in front of everyone in the ballroom. She'd have to be sure not to get too much blood on her corset. Though with this crowd, who would even notice?

She was nearly to the door when a hand clamped down on the man's shoulder, dragging him to a halt. "Wilson Bellack."

Kierse had to fight to keep her face neutral when she saw Graves standing before the sniveling vampire.

"Yes? Are we acquainted?" Bellack asked.

"I don't believe that we are," Graves said, dominance on full display. The force of his magic made him nearly blinding to look at. She hadn't realized that the fear he inspired was, in part, a product of his magic. It was easy to see why others shrank from him. "But you do seem to have my property."

"And who the hell are you?"

Graves just smiled at him. Something cold and lethal. "That's not any of your business."

"Are you of the Men of Valor?"

Graves nudged the winged pin at his lapel in answer. "Now, would you release my property?"

Wilson flung her arm aside as if she were a doll. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but he just strode away furiously.

"I don't think he likes you," Kierse reasoned.

"No, I suspect not," Graves said.

"What took you so long?"

He flashed the pin at her. He must have taken it off of someone.

"Miss me?" He drew her closer. His eyes skated down the skimpy outfit.

"Hardly," she teased right back.

"I approve of the outfit. Wear it for me later?"

She wasn't sure if he was joking. And part of her shivered at the thought, but she couldn't consider it here.

"We're wasting time," she told him.

He nodded just as a hush fell over the room and the exits were barred. Kierse swallowed and glanced at Graves. He shook his head minutely.

"His Royal Majesty, King Louis," an attendant declared.

And onto the head dais strode the King of the Underworld.