Despite the cold, the front doors were flung open to the outside, framing the party within. People danced and swayed and flew in the grand hall. Enough greenery had been brought in to create a forest. Cedar and fir garlands adorned the doorways and ceiling cornices. Branches were twined around pillars and woven through the balustrades of the staircase leading to the second floor. Sprays of mistletoe hung from the enormous chandelier, and white roses overflowed from tall crystal vases. On the upper balcony overlooking the room, an orchestra played traditional Yule music with flutes.
Tibbet found me before I left the vestibule. She wore a floor-length dress in maroon velvet, her hair in a tangle of long, thin braids with amber crystals threaded through them. She wrapped her arms around me, spinning us both in a circle as we kissed, before pulling away with a huge smile on her face. “You look dashing, sir.”
Her words made me feel better about my outfit. Gone were the days of high-end designer fashion on a regular basis. I was wearing a deep violet silk jacket that I had had for years. I was actually surprised to discover I still had it. Most of the good stuff had gone long ago to consignment shops. A simple black shirt and pants finished off the outfit. People don’t notice old black unless they look more closely than they should anyway. I couldn’t not smile at Tibbet. “And you, my love, look more gorgeous than ever.”
“Promise me we will dance later?”
I slipped my arm around her. “If you promise it will be something slow.”
She rested her head on my shoulder. “Or we can just stand like this and be the envy of everyone else.”
I kissed her temple. “Thanks, Tibs. You always say the right thing.”
She smiled up at me. “Get yourself a drink and mingle. Manus is holding court by the fireplace. He said to tell you he’ll meet you upstairs later.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
She did a little twirl away and pointed at me as she slipped back into the crowd. “And we will dance, handsome.”
The bar was set up under the stuffed elephant. Around me, glances slid away before I made eye contact. The fast fall from grace meant a long climb back up, and three years was nothing in the fey world. I had made matters worse by not wanting to climb in the same direction again. It was still uncomfortable to be snubbed.
I lingered near the back of the hall in a recessed alcove by the French doors, watching Eagan greet his guests. Even though he was near a roaring fire, he had draped a blanket on his lap. Despite his pale and gaunt face, he seemed to be enjoying himself. I didn’t begrudge him the opportunity to be fawned over. He didn’t leave his house for months at a time anymore. I certainly didn’t envy him the apprehensive looks people gave him, like he was going to die any moment.
“I never pictured you as a wallflower,” someone said next to me.
With all the fey folk in the room, keeping track of body signatures was pointless. I hadn’t realized Moira Cashel was standing near me until she spoke. “I’m waiting to speak to someone.”
Moira was decked out as only the rich fey could be. She wore a midnight blue gown shot with white crystals and an evening wrap of gossamer-thin white cloth. More jewels glittered on pins in her hair—true diamonds and sapphires. A glamour completed the outfit, a soft, gauzy halo of golden light that made her look like she floated in a cloud of sunshine. There was no denying she looked incredible or—for that matter—that she knew she did. She sidled closer. “If only it were me,” she said.
I glanced down at her. “What do you want, Moira?”
She lifted a champagne glass to her lips. “I think the moment you could do something for me passed in your apartment, Connor.”
I chuckled. “Yes, well, if you need a good lay, I’m sure you can find someone else here.”
She gave me a tight smile. “Bastard.”
I shrugged. “You’re not the first to call me that, so I’ll ask you again. What do you want, Moira?”
Essence rippled as her face shifted to Amy Sullivan’s softer jawline, and her hair lightened. “A piece of the past, Connor. A piece of me that I’m afraid doesn’t exist anymore. Can you look at this face and feel nothing?”
“Oh, I feel something all right, just not what you intend. I’m going to walk away if you don’t stop using that glamour,” I said.
Tears—real ones, I think—sprang into her eyes. “Why? Because I’m destroying some kind of delusion you had by revealing that perfect Amy Sullivan was more than you knew? That she was a woman with a life and a home that you knew nothing about? That she was in pain, and you appeared at the right moment?”
“I did not seduce you,” I said.
A cold light crept into her eyes. “We seduced each other, Connor. You may not have been a man yet, but you weren’t a child either. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
I shook my head and laughed in disbelief. “If you were a man, I’d knock you on your ass for that. You know nothing about what was between me and Amy. You’re just a manipulative creature from Tara working for an egomaniac who’s afraid that I know she’s responsible for what happened here on Samhain.”
She seemed genuinely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”
I stepped closer to her, forcing her to step back against the wall. “Maeve abandoned us to save her own precious skin, and if not for me, this entire city would have died, too. So spare me the feeble little guilt trip about who I slept with years ago. If you really are Amy, then you made your bed and, yeah, you slept in it. And if you want to get in bed with Maeve now, you’ll suffer the consequences. I don’t give a damn, and I sure as hell am not going to fall for whatever game you’re playing now.”
Tears flowed free. She slapped me across the face. “You are a bastard.”
I frowned. “Yeah, well, maybe you helped make me one.”
“What the hell is this?”
Moira gasped and extinguished the Amy glamour. Behind us in a formal tuxedo, Commissioner Scott Murdock looked more angry than I had ever seen him. He wasn’t looking at me, but at Moira. “Commissioner, I’m sorry if—” I began.
“Shut up, Grey.” He shoved me aside and grabbed Moira by the arm. “I asked you a question.”
“Scott, I—” she began.
He shook her. “Scott, is it? Scott?”
I pulled at his coat. “Commissioner, I can explain.”
He dropped his hand, then grabbed me by the shirt and pushed me against the wall. “What game do you think you’re playing with me, boy? Is this another Guild game to make me a fool?”
I’d seen the commissioner angry before, even angry at me, but this came out of the blue. “Excuse me?”
Moira grabbed his arm. “Scott, stop it.”
“I think stopping this is very good advice, Commissioner.” Tibbet’s voice was low and sharp. Behind her, two brownie security guards waited with polite expressions on their faces.
The commissioner released me with a shove. A few guests had noticed the commotion but were pretending they hadn’t. Tibbet tilted her head down and toward one shoulder as if listening to something behind her. “The Guildmaster requests that you join him in his study in a few moments, Commissioner. My assistants will provide you with whatever you need in the meantime.”
Scott Murdock adjusted his jacket. “Tell Eagan I’m leaving. I will speak to him tomorrow.”
Tibbet clasped her hands at her waist. “I respect that desire, sir. However, I believe it will take some time to retrieve your vehicle, and I am sure you would not wish to break protocol and neglect to thank your host while you wait.”
The commissioner set his jaw and glared at Moira. “Get this . . . person away from me, then.”
Tibbet nodded with a smile at Moira. “Please wait in the back hall until I arrive, will you?”