Page 124 of Tainted Souls
Above the basin, I find a small cabinet cluttered with a few modest toiletries—a porcelain hand mirror, a small tin of face powder, a pot of dark red lip salve, and a delicate hairbrush.
I lift the brush and comb the mess that’s my hair in a futile attempt to tame it, smoothing the wild strands as best I can.
Then, with measured strokes, I lightly dust my face with powder, softening the weariness etched into my skin.
Lastly, I apply the lip salve, its deep hue anchoring me to the woman I’m steeling myself to be.
When Saul returns hours later—dressed in formal black, his long coat sharply tailored, and masked—I’ve worked myself into a state of anxious anticipation.
He brings clean attire and the same mask I wore before.
I change quickly, the fabric clinging just enough to feel like a second skin, whispering against my legs as I move. It’s an elegant black dress of soft velvet, fitted at the waist and flaring slightly at the hem, with subtle rhinestone embroidery along its square neckline and tight sleeves.
“Mother’s dress,” he explains when I twirl. “Thought it might bring you some comfort.”
I stop, then smile, putting on my mask and stepping into a pair of simple black stilettos that are surprisingly comfortable.
While I carefully arrange my hair, securing the front strands at the back with a diamond hair brooch the shape of a feather, Saul watches me with something like nostalgia in his eyes.
“What?” I ask, self-conscious under his scrutiny.
“You look like her sometimes,” he says. “When you’re thinking too hard about something.”
The comparison sends a strange pang through my chest. “I wish I could remember her better.”
“Maybe after tonight, you will.” He offers his arm. “Ready?”
I fill my lungs and nod, linking my arm through his as we move into the halls.
CHAPTER 26
THEGRANDDINING HALLis unchanged—a congregation of vampires and bloodmaids engaged in their ritualistic exchange. Yet something feels different tonight.
The quaint serenity has been replaced by a palpable stiffness, their behaviors more measured and guarded, if that’s even possible.
Conversations that once carried a graceful, almost indulgent flow are now restrained and hushed. Laughter has all but vanished, replaced by murmurs passed behind deft hands and downward glances.
Kale is swirling his wine, but doesn’t drink, his eyes remaining fixed on nothing, as if seeing something the rest of us can’t. Irene’s eyes dart across the room before every sip, as if she’s bracing for something to shatter. In an alcove, Palina moves with a certain caution, as if weighed down by invisible chains of dread. In another, a bloodmaid winces as Reece’sfangs pierce her neck—not from pain, but from the absence of intimacy. The bite is perfunctory, less tender.
Something is coming. And whatever it is, they all know it’s already too late to stop it.
Next to me, my brother halts. I follow his gaze to where Ace stands, his imposing figure unmistakable despite the mask. He wears a tailored burgundy shirt tonight, the severe cut emphasizing his height and the lean strength of his frame. His hair catches the candlelight, creating a halo effect that feels almost mockingly angelic. He’s watching us, and even from across the room, I can feel the weight of his attention.
“Remember what I told you,” Saul says, urging me forward with his hand on my back.
Ace’s stare remains unbroken. When we near, he inclines his head slightly in either a silent command or a warning—I can’t tell which.
I simply mirror the gesture, hoping it’s enough to pass for civility.
He pulls aside the silk drape of the alcove behind him, revealing a petite blonde bloodmaid waiting inside. Her eyes are downcast, hands clasped before her like a child awaiting instruction.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry, the memory of Oliver and my loss of control vividly in my mind. I turn to Saul, our eyes meeting in silent communication. I need him there. Need someone to pull me back if I go too far again.
Preferably without rattling my skull in the process.
Understanding my unspoken plea, my brother takes a step toward the alcove, but Ace’s hand shoots up in one swift, decisive motion.
“She needs someone to stand watch,” Saul insists, glancing between us with obvious concern.
