Chapter 89

I turn back to the room, screwing my mouth to the side as I snap my fingers twice, dropping the lighting in the room and then calling up an elaborate dancefloor that’s lit from below with bright and vibrant colors, constantly shifting.

My girl friends shriek with delight as I call up a sound system too, as well as a laptop so that we can all play DJ with our favorite songs. Or, well, so those of us who don’t stare in wonder at the device can. Orion stares at the laptop with wide eyes, a little afraid. “What is that?”

“It’s just a song machine – come on, let’s dance!” I call out, tossing my hands high above my head, laughing as I put on the first song – an old favorite from my parents’ time – a disco hit that no one can resist moving to. My friends immediately comply, beginning to laugh and dance along as I fold my arms and observe my work, quite pleased with it, especially in the fact that the patrons who were here before us are starting to laugh and smile too, heading for the bar to get their free drinks.

“Who knew,” Anton says, grinning and coming to my side. “That the dark sorceress could party.”

“I knew,” I say, grinning up at him and poking a finger at his starlight chest. “And you knew too, deep down. I’m fun!”

“Yes, you are,” Anton says with a laugh, offering his hand in a clear invitation to dance. I grin, resting my palm against his as best I can and following my handmaid out onto the dance floor.

I laugh and dance and sing and drink determinedly for hours, losing myself to the music and to the party. Sometimes I’m on the dancefloor for song after song, twirling around and letting my hair spin out all around me, getting sweaty and breathless with it. I mean, I’m no dancer like my sister, but I know how to move well enough – and I do.

At other times I’m at the bar, chatting with my friends, getting to know the girls a bit more, or talking to patrons who come to introduce themselves, throwing back drink after drink. I’m very pleased when I notice that more people come in from the street, their eyes full of wonder, smiles breaking onto their faces as they hear the music, try a drink that is for once not that horrible shadowroot liquor. I keep the shelves behind the bar liberally full. And my own glass too.

But no matter where I go, or who I talk to, Anton is always by my side. Orion frequently is too – impressing me by being a fairly good dancer himself. But our Prince is distracted by his responsibility to attend to all of our guests, each of which is sort of his girlfriend, after all. I smile when I realize that he makes a point to dance with all of us, betraying that very kind and sweet spirit that I’ve started to intuit is deep down inside of him.

Anton, though – he has no such responsibilities to anyone else here. No, he’s my handmaiden – and so he sticks with me, dancing and singing and chatting, his eyes becoming as heavy-lidded as mine as the hours pass.

The start of the party is exciting and vivid, everyone losing themselves to the distractions of the room, each of us forgetting that we live in the Underworld now, and that most of us are supposed to be dead within two weeks, and that only one of us will get to live by Orion’s side as his queen. But as the hours pass and the drinks go down, my mind turns more and more to the dreadful situation in which I find myself.

And despite my very best determination to forget all about him, I can’t stop thinking about Blythe.

Every time he appears unbidden in my mind I grab my drink and toss it back, conjuring up a new thought in its stead. And then I head to the dancefloor, throwing myself into the music, letting it carry me away. At first that works but, over time…

Even as I dance, swaying my hips to the music, singing along, my hands held above my head – I can’t stop myself from remembering again what a damned fool I am. I think of Blythe’s sweet words, of the passion with which he kissed me, of just how hard I fell for him. Because it wasn’t slow – no, I tumbled head over heels as if down a damned hill, completely unable to stop myself.

I mean, I had played it cool on the front. I made him work for it. But honestly, I’m realizing now that we both knew that it was all a front, a game. He knew I was wrapped completely around his finger. And he was just playing along, letting me think that I was in charge.

He had me.

God, he had me, that damned slug.

And I had loved him. Loved him so much that I was willing to chase him here, to risk my life just for the bare chance to bring him back.

And the whole time, he was just…using me. For money and fame. For connections and a leg up in the world.

I had loved him and he just…used me. He hadn’t loved me at all. Not for one minute.

Because when you love someone – you don’t treat them like that.

Tears slip down my cheeks even as I dance, my jaw set hard. I look down at the floor, trying not to let anyone see, forcing myself to keep moving to the music. And most people’s eyes move past me, falling for it.

But I can’t fool Anton. Nope, not my handmaiden, who stays with me at every step.

I feel the cool tingle of his touch beneath my chin, bidding me lift my head.

I tear my face away, looking down and to the side, not wanting to look him in the eye. Embarrassed to be crying for that creep. Embarrassed to be crying at all – in public! God, I’m so pathetic.

But Anton’s touch returns, firmer now, and I lift my eyes to his, my feet stilling as I look up into his beautiful face, my lip trembling a bit. He clicks his tongue, smiling softly at me.

“Oh, come on, you sad little bat,” he murmurs, shaking his head. I laugh a little even as tears spill from the corners of my eyes, falling back into my hair. “That one? He’s not worth your tears.”

“I know,” I say on a little moan, stepping closer, letting the music and the party continue on around us, Anton and I forming our own little island in the middle of it. “I hate that the most,” I murmur, lifting a hand to brush hard at my eyes. “I hate him. I just – I feel like such a fool. And I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed –“

“Everyone saw it but me!” I say on a huffy little laugh, looking away again. “How…how can I respect myself when I can’t see a dangerous parasite for what he is and instead go all heart-eyed, falling for him? I’m so pathetic.”

“Hey,” Anton says, his voice harsh, stepping closer to me. I look up at him in surprise at the change in his tone. Is he – is he scolding me right now? While I’m crying? He takes my chin firm between his fingers. “No one calls my girl, pathetic, okay? Not even my girl.”

A little laugh bursts from me, and I shake my head. “But what about when it’s the truth?”

“Impossible,” he murmurs, stepping so close to me that our stomachs brush. My hands come to rest on his hips as he cups my face between his palms, looking seriously down at me. “You’re fantastic, June. A badass demigoddess full of dark grace and majesty who makes men fall to their knees before her, who demands retribution for her wrongs.” He smirks at me. “You’re terrifying. I love it.”

A flickering little smile forms on my lips as I gaze up at him, even as I shake my head. “Badass demigoddesses don’t cry on the dancefloor,” I whisper, tears slipping again from my eyes.

“Hell yes they do,” he growls, ducking his head close to mine. “They do whatever they want. Cry if you feel like it, June. Let it all out. You’re amazing in every iteration of Juniper Sinclair – crying, dancing, smiting, turning people to slugs – every moment of it a marvel. So just do whatever the hell you want, kid. It’s your party. You’re in charge.”

“Yeah,” I say, laughing a little, nodding and taking a step back, lifting my chin with pride as I wipe again at my tears. “I’m in charge.”

“That sounds more like you!” Anton says, laughing and reaching down, taking my hand, lifting it and turning me in a circle. “What do you want to do now?”

“Dance!” I call out, laughing, meaning it, squeezing his hand in mine. “And maybe…cry a little more!”

“Then let’s dance!” Anton calls, laughing with me. “And you cry – I got nothing on that front.” I give a little shout of joy, letting Anton turn me again, and then I lose myself again to the moment, bolstered by my his faith in me. I close my eyes and move to the music, trusting him.

Because even if sadness and rage still dwell in me after this day, and even if I can’t yet believe that I’m the badass goddess he says I am…

Well. If Anton believes it?

Maybe believing in him is enough.

I sway my hips on the dancefloor, singing along to the music, my hand in Anton’s for the rest of the night.

Or at least as much of it as I can remember.