Suddenly Sam (The October Trilogy) by Killough-Walden Heather

Author:Killough-Walden, Heather [Killough-Walden, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-10-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The dancers formed a circle around Logan and her partner, shifting back and moving out, their eyes never wavering as the stranger moved Logan to the very center of the masquerade floor.

The music began once more. It was slow and tender, the melody of a single, sad violin. The stranger took Logan’s hand and placed it meaningfully upon his chest just beneath his shoulder.

Logan swallowed. He felt hard and unyielding beneath the black material of his clothing.

He took her other hand and wove it with his own, his fingers curling over hers as he held her hand aloft. His other arm, he slid around her waist. That flame that had sparked inside Logan now erupted into a blaze hot enough to rival the bonfire that shed light over the masquerade ball.

Her heart rate sped into overdrive, and a soft sound escaped her lips. But it went unheard, as the tempo of the music increased slightly, and the single violin was expertly joined by other instruments.

The stranger moved her. A gentle tug here, a sweeping pull there, and she was dancing.

I’m dancing, she thought. It was an odd thought, but she was on autopilot now, and her thoughts were random and uncontrolled. She was no longer in the lead, in more ways than one.

The other dancers joined in, each couple sliding out onto the dance floor and back into their swaying, swirling routine one after another.

The stranger smiled down at her. There was something not right about that smile. She just knew there was. It was so beautiful, though. Perfect, really. It was bright and white and sharp and charming and dangerous….

But she could barely pay these spiky niggles of doubt any heed. It seemed the world was receding, like it had tunnel vision that was focused upon the midnight pair as they moved with inhuman grace at the center of the crowd.

Inhuman?

She heard the swishing of gowns and the clicking of feet around her, and color moved on the outskirts of her vision. She pulled her eyes away from his, only just managing it, and looked to the right. A dancing couple eyed her for a moment, the woman with a touch of obvious jealousy. Then, together, they nodded at her, slowly, respectfully. And she had no idea why.

Logan looked to her left. Mabel and Henry watched her from the sidelines, their hands clasped, their eyes bright. She knew it was them despite their masks. Mabel wore a mauve and brown dress, more concealing and less conspicuous than those of the younger women. And Henry wore matching finery, having gone through a sort of transformation from whittling cook to straight-backed and regal dance partner, no matter his age. But he’d been right about needing to carve himself a new mask; the one he wore now was admittedly worn and faded. It was time for a new one. Silly old man.

Logan’s brow furrowed. What’s wrong with me?

She was thinking of the Harvesters as if she’d known them forever. As if they were friends, or even family members.

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