The bartender slid a glass to me, and I raised it to my lips. The gloss was sticky, leaving a film on the rim of the glass, but I didn’t dare wipe it off. I sipped it, pretending to look around the club, watching Silke like a hawk from the corner of my eye.
My head was buzzing pleasantly when the door behind Silke opened, admitting a tall figure to the balcony. I stiffened in my seat, but it wasn’t Brightkin who walked out.
He was Gentry, though. Tall, handsome, with dark hair that brushed his shoulders, wearing a crisp white shirt that said he’d gotten out of work and come straight to Myrage.
I watched him descend the stairs and disappear into the crowd, and was about to get up when he reappeared, pushing through the lighter crowd at the bar.
There was no way I was leaving this club without something for Robin. All I could do was hope this Gentry was into nymphs as much as Brightkin was.
I pushed my empty glass back across the bar, just enough to tip it over the edge. The glass hit the floor with a sharp crack. It didn’t shatter, but the sound was enough to catch the dark-haired Gentry’s attention.
He looked up and met my eyes, and I smiled flirtatiously at him before making an apologetic face to the irritated bartender. His dragonfly wings were buzzing behind him in agitation. “I’m like, sooo sorry!” I giggled. “I’m a lightweight.”
I let my voice rise at the end to make it into a question and felt a spear of panic when I glanced across the bar. The Gentry was gone.
A warm hand descended on my bare shoulder, tracing around the jeweled chains. He wore a silver band around one finger, marked with carved waves.
“You’re new here,” a male voice said. I looked up into eyes as green as emeralds. Up close, his dark hair was actually the same shade, verging on black. The Gentry smiled, spinning my seat around to face him, and the blue light caught on his teeth. “I’d remember seeing you before.”
Something about him made me feel gross, but he was a one-way ticket to Brightkin. I lowered my lashes, ducking my face. “I just got here from Mag Cíuin. My brother wouldn’t come out with me, but he told me Myrage was the place to be.”
Fingers brushed the underside of my chin and tilted my face up. When Robin had made this gesture, my heart had turned into a butterfly about to fly from my chest.
When this guy did it, the vodka tonic sloshed around in my stomach like it was about to fly all over his shirt.
“He was right. Got a name, pretty girl?”
I shyly tucked my hair behind my ears. “Cress. What about you?”
He gave me another blinding smile. “Call me Fionn. Come on; you’re not getting the best of Myrage by just sitting here.”
I let him pull me off the stool, barely managing to keep my balance on the killer heels Robin’s wardrobe had provided for me. When I stumbled, I clung to Fionn’s arm, smiling up at him like a starstruck waif who had no idea what she was in for.
We slipped into the crush of dancers, disappearing into smoke and dizzying lights, and I immediately felt Fionn’s hands at my waist.
I wanted to slap them off, but just giggled instead. The sound was swallowed up by the thumping bass that vibrated in my chest, and Fionn was suddenly pressed against my ass, grinding against me.
I kept dancing, gritting my teeth. It was easy to get inside Cress’s pretty, empty little head: just another party-mad nymph looking for a good time, looking for the magical Gentry prince who would pick her up out of the Lesser masses like a diamond in the rough, even though her dreams were just a castle in the air.
Through a sudden part in the crowd, I caught a glimpse of Robin. He was sitting at a table in a dark corner, spinning a nearly full glass around on the table with his long fingers as he watched us.
He didn’t look happy at all. The false face he wore was set in a faint scowl.
Robin blinked and seemed to realize I was staring back at him. The scowl deepened and he looked away, surreptitiously glancing at the balcony where Silke stood guard.
Well, he could scowl all he wanted, but I was the one out here with some Gentry bastard putting his hands all over me.
The image of the photo flashed through my head. The girls’ glazed eyes were burned into my skull. It’s for a good reason, Briallen. Grow a pair and get in that room.
The crowd swallowed us again, and I flung myself back into dancing against Fionn with renewed purpose.
My feet were screaming and my skin sheened with sweat when I finally stumbled out of the fray, Fionn on my heels.
“I need a drink,” I said, my throat raspy with thirst, and Fionn glanced at the bar. His eyes flicked upstairs, an almost imperceptible movement.
He was still pressed against me. I felt his erection through his pants and suppressed a shudder.
Fionn leaned down to talk in my ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll get you a drink there.”
Both excitement and dread ripped through me. I just let my eyes widen. “Oh, my trees, really? I thought you had to be like, a really big deal to get a VIP room here.”
Fionn’s overconfident smirk grated on my nerves. “Babe, I am a really big deal. I’m fifth in line to the Seelie Throne.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes and gaped instead. “No way.”
“Absolutely. Come on, pretty girl. Let’s go.” He took my arm and led me to the curving stairs on the edge of the dance floor.
I had the feeling he’d already forgotten poor Cress’s name. He led me up the stairs, and without thinking, I glanced back over my shoulder at the lonely table below.
Robin’s eyes followed us all the way up. I wanted to give him some sort of sign that I was okay, that I was good with this, but Fionn and I were now in full view of Silke.
Her eyes were almost white and icy cold. I tossed my hair over my shoulders and clung to Fionn, wrapping my hands around his arm.
The huldra held up a hand as we approached, as implacable as a stone wall. “Who is this?”
Fionn stared at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing, confirming my suspicion.
“Hi!” I burbled, holding out a hand. “I’m Cress Willowtree! You’re like, so pretty, why are you up here instead of down there?”
Silke gave me a withering look, her upper lip curling in a sneer and showing a very pointy incisor.
“Yeah, this is Cress. Lay off the ice-queen act, Silke. She’s invited in.” Fionn tried to push past her, but Silke’s hand was suddenly planted in the middle of his chest, forcing him back like he weighed no more than a feather.
“This is protocol,” she said. There was no arguing with that tone of voice.
A moment later the huldra was whisking her hands over me, impersonal and cool. The search was over within seconds, considering the tiny dress didn’t leave much to hide, but she even slipped her fingers into my hair, searching my scalp for hidden weapons.
Her eyes were narrowed when she stepped back. “Open the bag.”
I obediently opened the wristlet, letting out a breathless giggle. Silke peered in at my phone and lip gloss and plucked the fake ID card out.
She held it up, looking from my face to the ID, and her lips flattened.
The huldra handed it back and I made to close the wristlet, but her hand was still outstretched. “No phones allowed.”
A twinge of misgiving went through me, but I had to get into that room. I plucked the brand-new phone from my wristlet and dropped it in her palm, forcing another laugh. “Just be careful! I just got it and I can’t afford another.”