Page 77 of Find My Way Down to You

“What? Am I just a shiny toy to them?” I ask.

To yourushes toward my lips, but I hold it in.

His eyes trace my face. “Some will think you are a marvel. Others will believe you strange and fascinating. A puzzle to solve.” His gaze stops at my mouth. “And some will think you are something else.”

My pulse is a heavy bass note in my ears. Cary lets go of my wrist. A muscle in his jaw ticks.

For some reason, my fingers itch to touch it. To feel it under my skin. Just once.

“What else?” I say on a quiet breath.

His eyes find my face one last time, but his lips stay pressed together. He sweeps past me. His honeyed scent sticks to the back of my throat, his warmth a ghost haunting my skin.

The door shuts and silence blankets the room.

All I hear is my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

11

When I walkinto the hallway, I’m startled to find Cary waiting. He leans against a wall. Quiet as midnight.

“Wear this.”

A rose gold masquerade mask dangles from his fingers. The cool metal is lightweight in my palm. Elegant flowers decorate most of it. I recognize them—more daffodils. Etched along the mask’s edges are musical notes.

I hold it up for Cary. “Really?”

His shoulder rises for a half-hearted shrug. “I told you. My brother loves drama.”

Cautiously, I slip the mask on, tying the silky ribbon behind my curls.

Cary eyes me. His jaw moves like he wants to say something else. He doesn’t.

We follow floating globes of light through the serpentinehall. This place is a maze. Locked doors and shadowed corners. I want to ask Cary about all of it. Except, he’s back to being a silent, broody dick.

I should be used to it by now. I shouldn’t be so frustrated. So…confused by him.

One moment, he’s straightening my suit, strong hands resting gently on my chest. Turning me in slow circles as he teaches me to dance. Ink black eyes never leaving my face. Confidently drawing me closer to him. Warm breaths near my cheek.

Then he’s like ice again. A lake frozen by winter’s touch.

Inside the elevator, Cary’s fingers flex at his sides. Those fingers were on me. Gripping my hand. Teasing along the dip in my spine. I shut my eyes, grimacing.

Cary’s an unwanted distraction. I have no time for him.

Another minute passes before the doors yawn open. I gasp, my eyes unable to pick one place to look.

The grand ballroom is massive. Guests are everywhere. In gowns and suits or a combination of both. Extravagant masks on their faces. Laughter sails above bouncing symphonic music.

I step inside. White marble floors gleam like pearls. The brocade wallpaper is stamped with silver filigree designs: keys and flowers and crescent moons.

To my left, a grand piano plays on its own. The keys depress, untouched. My own fingers wiggle as I try to follow every note and chord. On my right, crimson petals drift down from the air, evaporating before ever contacting the ground. Servers in burgundy clothes move around me with glasses on gold trays.

I inhale a mix of fresh fruit and earthy dark chocolate. Flutes of red liquid are handed out. Tiny seeds sit at the bottom like glimmering rubies.

The entire scene is stitched from magic found in storybooks. Sewn together by the promises of dreams. A tapestry of myths and lore.

And I’m standing here in the middle of it.