Page 46 of Seas the Reckoning

“The witch is going to act distraught by the evening’s early end. Because she’s developed a keen interest in one of the eligible gentlemen and was hoping to solidify an offer by the end of the weekend.”

“Someone had better tell her that!” I warn him as he dips me for the end of the song.

“We will. She’ll tell her father, and he’ll want to know who it is and how to usher the pairing along. It’s just a guess, but her show of compliance, his paranoia, and his desire to let no deal slip through his fingers will tempt him to speak with her in the office. That way he can keep an eye on multiple interests at once.”

We’re banking on a lot of ‘ifs’ for my taste, but we did pull in a god of wisdom, and he speaks as though he’s got just as much insight into situations as Grammy Pearl.

Feral bows, then walks away as the musicians begin a new song.

Across the ballroom, I can see Starla. The witch has three men around her, and she fans herself with a hand while giggling.

“Do you have space on your dance card?” I whip my head around to find Claude watching me.

Arloc’s nowhere in sight, seas be praised.

I can’t afford to alienate the vampire, but I’m also curious about the warlock.

Tonight’s pin is gold, over a deep blue suit. But the symbol is the same.

Ivyrn Works.

Perhaps Leon used the symbol without even understanding its significance.

Calculating the best way to manage the situation, I settle on a hint of snark wrapped in a polite package.

“Are you certain you want to spend a dance on me? I am incredibly close to the councilman’s daughter, and it did not seem as though your family approved of her.”

He frowns.

“Excuse my sister’s incivility. Consider this an apology.” He holds out his hand, arm steady, clearly someone who has no doubt his offer will be accepted.

“Thank you.”

The two of us begin the dance, and once again I allow my partner to lead, although Claude is more forceful than Feral. The Founder moved with elegance and grace. Claude moves with muscle, each turn making it clear that he could overpower me if he wanted.

Perhaps not if I had my claws out. It would depend on his key. Could it be curses? Could I be twirling in the arms of the man whose ancestor cursed mine?

My throat is lashed with fire, and hatred burns in my gut.

Whether Inktus was a villain or not, her descendants didn’t deserve this treatment.

I don’t deserve it.

I’m shackled by my curse, and I might be standing in front of someone whose family history holds the key. I can’t even sing the truth out to him, because I might die or bring danger to those I love after overusing an ability that should be mine.

“Your sister mentioned she has a key for strength,” I venture. “Is that a family trait?”

He nods.

“It is, from our father’s side. A little brutish for the tastes of some here, but it puts me on par with any shifter, and that does come in handy. Physical strength is the only kind some of them recognize.”

I droop a bit in disappointment as he continues to guide us.

Maybe he’s lying? Or maybe he just didn’t inherit the cursing power?

We’ve got to be halfway through the dance number by now. No use being subtle. Even if I tip him off, his reaction could tell me something valuable.

“I love that pin. Is it a family crest?”