Dance With The Sword (Bluebeard's Secret Book 2) by Sarah K. L. Wilson

Author:Sarah K. L. Wilson [Wilson, Sarah K. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Sarah K. L. Wilson
Published: 2021-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Sword muttered a curse. “One day I will make him eat refuse for every time he has upstaged me.”

But then he forced a bright smile on his face as he seized my hand and led me to the very center of the room. He plucked a small comb from his breast pocket – the delicate thing I’d seen before made of mother of pearl and inlaid with emeralds. The teeth of the tiny comb were no straighter than a crone’s. He ran it through his curls for a moment before tucking it away and as if the action had gained him courage, he spoke with a voice both loud and carrying.

“Friends, enemies, Wittenbrand,” the crowd turned from Bluebeard to him, their eyes bright with what I thought must be a glimmer of Grosbeak’s taste for melodrama. “Welcome to my halls and I hope you don’t feel the need to change my décor so dramatically, as some have.” Around us, the crowd laughed nervously. “The Second Move is upon us and with it, a time of celebration. And so, I beg you to be my guests this night and abandon all that is beyond these walls as we dance the night away.”

He extended his free hand in open welcome and then snapped his fingers. The music started, though I could not tell where the pipers and players were hidden.

“Lady,” the Sword said, bowing to me. One of the wolves tried to snap his arm off, but the Sword kept far enough back that it could not reach him – a feat since the three wolves were positioned across the front of my dress, joining in the music with the steady thrum of their growling. “We will dance, of course.”

I opened my mouth to refuse him, but he leaned in close, avoiding the wolves, and whispered. “I still think divorce is for the best, but the other ways of dealing with you have not been removed from the table. Humor me.”

I glanced at him, as he leaned toward one of my ears, glanced to the other side to the dark wraith settled there with a finger over her lips, and then back again. In the stories, a person had a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. No one had ever told me a story about a person with two devils competing, but it seemed I would be the central character in this one.

“Do you know the akul?” I suggested, but he only laughed and slipped himself behind me, clasping his spread hand over my belly in a way I found far too familiar and then taking my free hand in his.

I gasped, my cheeks heating immediately. But then I realized that the dancers around us were positioning themselves likewise.

Beside us, Lady Wittentree paused with her partner, her skirts whipping and snapping around her like a ship’s sails in a storm. Every so often a black, white-tipped breaker would roll out from them and crash like surf upon the ground around her, leaving a brackish trail everywhere she went.

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