The Ravenous Dark, page 22
"Don't slouch." Bailey resisted the urge to growl at River's clipped reprimand. She sat pin-straight, her expression neutral but her emotions nearing their boiling point. Bailey didn't move an inch. "Everyone's watching us. You're making us look like ill-bred fools."
Bailey sneered. "And you're making it look like we all have something stuck up our ass. Gods, when did you start talking like that anyway? You’re twenty, not two hundred."
Sizzling volatility cut through the air between them. Bailey's ire and anger spiked as she returned River's unapologetic glare.
"Enough," Sebastian hissed. His head poked between the two, breaking their eye contact as he leveled them both with a glare of his own. His glacial impression smothered the spike of anger they projected. "The court is watching. Don't make us separate the two of you like some badly behaved children. Bailey, sit up and stop whatever your face is doing." Bailey's eyes widened in a mixture of horror and embarrassment before scowling at Sebastian. His censure was already turned to River. "As for you, kindly keep your commentary to yourself." He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "And your emotions. We don't want a riot on our hands. "
"Well done, my love," Briar crooned as Sebastian leaned back. "You know how much I adore it when you get all growly like that."
"I wasn't growling." The pleased undertone of Sebastian's reply said otherwise.
Bailey peeked back at the two. The hint of a smirk lingered at the corner of Sebastian's mouth, and they gazed at each other with barely contained longing. She wanted to vomit, and the headache she'd been fighting all through the opera reared its ugly head again.
"You were about to," Briar said. Her voice dropped an octave as a hand ghosted over his chest. Sebastian's spine straightened, and he cleared his throat. "Jakob won't mind if we miss the last act, would he? Perhaps we can sneak—"
"No fucking way," Bailey snapped, swinging around fully to face them. "If we have to be here, so do you."
Both vampyrés arched a singular brow at Bailey's outburst but said nothing in return. With a huff, the she-wolf spun back around.
It was bad enough Ruby and Jax were allowed to skip out on tonight's little family outing for some much-needed "bonding" time, as Irina had stated no less than three times while plucking Bailey's eyebrows. She wouldn't stand for Sebastian and Briar ducking out to sate their wicked appetites.
An influx of voices flooded the large opera house. Courtiers were returning to their seats as the last intermission ended. From their vantage point in a private box, Bailey could scan the incoming crowd with ease. She hoped to spot a certain brooding raven shifter, but as with all her previous attempts, her search was fruitless.
She did, however, spy a familiar head of stark white hair.
Even tamed into a sleek bun, Stella was incredibly difficult to miss. If it wasn't her looks, it was in the way those nearest her parted or pulled away unconsciously. Her seat was left of the stage and several rows back under the balcony. It wasn't the best seat, but it certainly wasn't the worst.
Those had been relegated to demons and sorcerer clans.
Bailey hinged forward. "Irina?" The beautiful blonde twisted and leaned forward partly across Deval. The other hybrid tilted back to accommodate her.
"Yes?"
"How's campaigning going?" Bailey hitched her chin in the direction of the clans. "Any new developments, or is there a reason the sorcerers got stuck with seats by the demons?"
"It's going quite splendid, actually," she said with a grin. "I'm a natural when it comes to politics."
"Then what's with the seating arrangement? Most of the time, the shifters are the ones stuck by the demons."
Irina shrugged. "I didn't allot the tickets for tonight's debut; besides, it doesn't even look like all the clans are in attendance tonight." She briefly browsed the back section with narrowed eyes. Bailey did the same, spying robes of blue, red, green, and pearly black mixed between pockets of demons with horns that disturbed something deep inside the she-wolf. She returned her attention to Irina, her heart beating a little faster as seeds of anxiety tried to worm their way into the pit of her stomach. "Perhaps they snagged their tickets too late?"
Bailey leaned forward a touch more, invading River's personal space, much to the half-witch's annoyance. "Yes, but how splendid are things going?" Irina's grin softened kindly.
"I believe I said quite splendid." Irina flipped her hair off her shoulder when it fell and partially obscured her face. Her sparkling copper eyes hardened the slightest margin as she continued. "Though who knows how much better it could have been if Luka Krovopuskov hadn't run off with Patricia from the Pulzin household. It's quite the scandal. Everyone knows the Krovopuskov and Pulzins maintain the staunchest feud this court has ever seen. Anyway—" Irina took a deep and unnecessary breath "—talk of those abominable restrictions for the sorcerers is practically dead, and negotiations on designating and repurposing empty rooms on the fifth and fourth subfloor are now well underway."
Bailey’s nerves rattled. When Franklin said she and Nia would spin his disappearance, I didn’t think they’d make another vampyré go missing.
Irina frowned. "Why do you look so distressed?"
"Who, me?" Bailey tensed.
"Yes, you," Irina clarified, her forehead crinkling as she assessed the quick fade of color on Bailey's cheeks. "What's wrong?"
Bailey cleared her throat and tried to smile, but it failed. Her mind had drawn blank at the mention of Luka, and she didn't know how to respond.
Or control her facial features, it seemed.
That and something else. Bailey couldn't put her finger on it, but even as her headache faded back into obscurity, a fresh kindling of discontent writhed in her gut. She blamed it on her guilt.
"More rooms?" River asked softly as the theater lights dimmed and rose to alert the audience the opera would begin again shortly. The whine and scratch of strings alighted in the air as the orchestra tuned their instruments. "That's it?" River pushed; her brow furrowed like her aunt.
Irina gave a little humph, dipping back in her seat but not before having the last word.
"Progress has to start somewhere, girls. And small hinges can open big doors. This is precisely the type of momentum we need to start making bigger and better changes here. You'll see."
The lights departed as a hush stole over the crowd. A beat later, the orchestra began in soft earnest, with the strings taking the lead. The rush of the tempo captured Bailey's attention as she nestled back in her spot. The music inspired a sense of urgency and excitement and—
A blazing scream erupted from the center of the audience on the ground floor. And then another.
The orchestra screeched to a stop.
"What's happening?" River demanded, shooting out of her seat to peer over the edge of the private box. The others sharing the front row with her followed swiftly in her wake; Bailey, Deval, Irina, and Jakob.
Bailey squinted into the maddening crowd as the terror grew in the darkened theater. "It looks like someone is being attacked."
"Two people," Deval corrected on the other side of River. "Two people are getting attacked by two vampyrés. There and there. But why? Is this some kind of power play?"
Though some fled from the trouble, the majority hugged closer to the scene to get a better look at the more thrilling third act. Bailey's stomach curled with anticipation.
Something's wrong.
While someone hollered for more bloodshed, another cried for obedience and for the audience to please return to their seats. The audience did not.
"Should we do anything?" Sebastian asked.
Jakob turned and considered Sebastian with a pensive scowl. His head was already moving side to side when a new, shrill scream of terror surged from the crowd. A third attacker was on the loose.
"Look!"
Bailey's eyes raked the scene. Her breath caught as her eyes inevitably fell upon the dimly lit stage. It was the shadowmancer. Bailey's heart trembled.
She owed that midnight phantom a solid fist to the face after his tormenting, the night of the full moon.
More screams permeated the audience as the attackers went wild, diving for the nearest person within their reach without provocation.
"Are they mad?" Jakob hissed. "And what is that specter on the stage? Are they—"
"It's the shadowmancer." Bailey leaned farther out on the rail to catch Jakob's eye. "They were there the night of Laxmi and Eris's wedding and—" Bailey slammed her mouth shut before she could complete her sentence, but with all eyes on her, she couldn't keep up her silence for long. "And now," she blurted out. "The shadowmancer is controlling the people who are attacking everyone."
"You're certain?"
Bailey nodded.
Jakob turned to Irina, cupping the side of her face. "I'd hate for you to ruin your gown. Wait for me back at home while I help clean up this mess?"
Irina's shoulders slumped, and Bailey would bet her entire Wilding's payout that she was pouting.
"I thought we were leaving matters such as these to the Delacroix?" she replied.
Jakob glanced at the scene. His features pinched together as he sighed. "They're doing a poor job of it. It seems they've only sent Claudius and Jackson to mitigate the situation."
A tremulous scream pitched into the darkness. Bailey winced at the octave.
"You'll play the hero then?" Irina said more than asked.
"Someone needs to."
"I'll go with you." Deval shrugged off his suit jacket.
"Very well," Jakob said and then kissed Irina on top of her head as she moved to the box's exit. Sebastian, Briar, and Nova trailed after her.
"I'm going too."
The declaration stopped the small caravan as they stared at Bailey. The she-wolf didn't spare them a glance, her regard only for Jakob.
His lips twitched downward. "I do not think that wise."
"Why? I'm the only one here who's gone a round with this shadowmancer."
Jakob's lips thinned to a grim line. Below the raucous mayhem was ramping up. Spells cut through the air in blazing arcs of neon green and orange, targeting all three assailants.
Bailey thought the entire ordeal could be fixed if those same magical assaults were aimed at the shadowmancer. The dark veil shrouding its figure seemed to be feeding the chaos.
"Fine," Jakob conceded.
"If she's going, I'm going," River declared.
"Absolutely not."
"No way."
Irina and Bailey caught each other's eyes as their objections ran over each other.
"You can't go," Irina continued. A large boom ricocheted off the walls shaking the theater. Everyone flinched as dozens screamed in delight.
A hole the size of a beach ball appeared on the set stage, its edges singed and smoking. The shadowmancer was nowhere to be seen, but the possessed killers in the crowd were still racking up a body count.
River toed off her heels losing approximately three inches of height. "Sorry, Aunt Irina." She knelt partly down and ripped her skirt, tearing it until it hit her mid-thigh. River straightened and thrust a hand over the balcony. "Avi bias!"
Then she vaulted over the edge of the box and into the chaos below.
"River!" Irina sprinted over with vampyric speed, but she was too late.
Hovering magically over the rows of seating below them was River. She looked up at them and smirked. "Don't stay on my account!" She called to them before sliding off the invisible platform she'd spelled into existence to soften her fall.
Bailey swelled with pride and annoyance and then bumped an irate Irina out of her way.
"Excuse you," Irina growled, her copper eyes flashing silver.
"Don't worry," Bailey said with a sharp-edged smile. "I won't let her die." Parting words delivered, Bailey copied River, hopping over the edge of the railing and onto River's magical creation. It wasn't the first time Bailey had seen this particular parlor trick or used it.
The impact of Bailey's fall was absorbed with the barest shivers by the magical cushion.
"You know," Bailey commented as she made her way off the invisible platform, finding the edge too close for comfort. "If your aunt was still living, that would have given her a heart attack."
River's smirk deepened. "Good thing she's a hybrid and can survive anything, then." Bailey returned the smirk with one of her own, and just like that the friction between the two extinguished.
A moment later, Deval fell from the sky. He flailed slightly in the air, arms outstretched in uncertainty. He landed with a wobble before jumping off the invisible platform to the nearest chair and joining them.
"You couldn't have made it have some color?" Deval said with a scowl, straightening his suit jacket in a clear display of irritation.
River shrugged. "That's not how it works."
She leaned sideways to see past him. Their vantage point had been better from above. What remained of the audience—which proved to be a considerable sum—formed a makeshift circle around the heart of the rampage near the stage. However, its circumference was expanding as supernaturals scrambled out of harm's way.
"Where's Jakob?" River asked, peering up.
"Here."
Bailey and River whipped around. Jakob stood behind them, loosening his tie and eyeing the scene with a critical eye. When he deigned to meet their incredulous stares, his mouth twitched upward.
"I took the stairs like a civilized supernatural."
Bailey snorted and swiveled her gaze back to the action. "What's the—watch out!"
A streak of magic blazed over the heads of the foursome, who ducked just in time. Seconds later, fresh screams pierced the air. The tenor of violent delight changed to one of stark fear as the circle of those gawking began to flee.
"What the hell," River fumed, gaze darting around to find the culprit as they straightened. "We're nowhere near the fighting for a spell to be aimed our way."
"Did anyone see who fired it?" Jakob asked tersely. When no one responded, his lips curled in a sneer. "Don't get yourselves killed. Apparently, a power play is happening tonight… in more moves than one." Jakob waited until Bailey and River acknowledged his statement before snapping his attention to Deval. "You're with me since Ruby isn't here."
"I can handle myself," Deval argued.
"As your sire's sire, I'd beg to differ. Ruby would chew my head off for the next decade if she knew I let you out of my sight for even a second."
"She treats me like a child."
"You are a child," Jakob retorted. "She's over a hundred years old."
Part of the stampeding crowd angled their way in their rush to depart. Jakob locked eyes with Bailey. "We'll take one, and you two the other. The Delacroix will hopefully handle the third."
The pairs carved opposite paths through the stampeding crowd and seats. Bodies pummeled them as they fought against the tide. Bailey clenched her jaw as another courtier cut her off.
"Watch it!" she snarled, but the courtier was already charging past her away from the carnage. Bailey's nostrils flared. Magic sizzled in the air, but it was the scent of blood that drew a shiver over her skin.
There must be a lot of bloodshed for the scent to compete with the magic.
"Bailey!"
She stopped at River's sharp call and spotted her pointing to the far end of the theater at something. Bailey rose to the tips of her toes, trying to see what River spotted.
Bailey gasped, her cheeks flushing as the drive to hunt ignited in her blood.
It was one of the possessed courtiers. The victim of the shadowmancer was once more a vampyré. Black veins bulged crudely over their neck and cheeks.
"Do you see where he's headed?" River asked anxiously, as she powered down her row of seats.
Bailey's eyes shifted ahead, marking the path of the enraged vampyré. He came to an abrupt halt to sniff the air and then let out a hair-raising howl. A moment later, it darted forward with purpose, and the grand chandelier slowly came back to life. Bailey's eye scanned the crowd ahead to see what caught the possessed vampyrés interest. She inhaled sharply. Then hustled after River in the adjacent row.
The possessed vampyré was making a beeline for Stella.
Stella, who was left abandoned in her row, her eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open in the thrall of her power. She screamed silently to all, save for those who were marked for death. Bailey's chest constricted, and she increased her pace, damning the full skirt of her gown. Her eyes swung back to the vampyré whose progress stalled as it snuck in a snack from a shrieking violinist.
They neared the center aisle. Though less congested than before, there were still too many bodies pushing toward the exit to pass through easily. And with the possessed vampyré still eating its way through the crowd, the only direction the courtiers were willing to move in was out.
"Can you split the crowd?" Bailey called to River.
"On it!"
River thrust both hands out. Electricity charged the air.
"Brast!" she shouted, hands jutting apart as if she was physically separating the crowd. Cries of distress hurtled through their numbers as River's unnatural divide held out against them.
They rushed by in the slim margin River created, ignoring the threats crying out after them. Once across, Bailey kicked off her shoes and tore down the row just as Stella started to sway on her feet.
"Hold on, Stella!" Bailey vaulted over the row of chairs to her right, cutting diagonally across the floor to reach Stella.
The banshee's eyes fluttered open weakly as she collapsed into the seat behind her. Tears streamed down her face as she cupped her throat.
Bailey cursed. The sound of her rushing blood filled her ears. She stole a look over her shoulder; River was still working on undoing her spell that split the crowd.
It shouldn't take her this long.
"Let's go, River!"
River spun. Her face was ashen, and her movements sluggish as she began to climb over the rows, angling toward Stella as Bailey did. Fear lanced through her as she watched her best friend struggle.
