The Vampire Detectives (Bjorn and Zyro #1)[COMPLETED]

22: Mask of Shadows

The sleek black car came to a quiet stop in front of the grand municipal hall of Barotac Nuevo. The large building was alive with music and laughter, its façade glowing under the soft light of lanterns strung along the streets. Tonight, the usual government meetings and dull bureaucracy were replaced with a masquerade party hosted by none other than the werewolves—a dangerous game of diplomacy and intrigue in which Bjorn and his companions were now players.

As the car doors opened, Bjorn stepped out first, adjusting the black mask that covered half his face. Conrad followed closely behind him, similarly disguised, his own mask a simple design that veiled his features, leaving his dark eyes to peer out into the night.

The masquerade theme was a blessing. With the intricate costumes, flowing gowns, and elaborate masks, they would blend in easily among the other guests. It was exactly what they needed to stay hidden while they gathered information. They had been worried about how to keep Conrad, a human, from drawing attention, but with everyone's identities obscured, he was just another shadow in the crowd.

As they approached the entrance, Bjorn scanned the area, his heightened senses on alert for any sign of danger—or worse, recognition. Spike and Zyro had parted from them earlier, each slipping into the event with their own objectives, and Kristina, curiously, was nowhere to be seen.

****

Zyro moved through the party with his usual quiet confidence, his eyes sweeping over the grand interior of Barotac Nuevo's municipal hall. The building, usually a hub of formal affairs and government dealings, had been transformed for the night's masquerade ball. Its colonial architecture stood tall, proud, and imposing, with whitewashed walls that gleamed under the soft glow of lanterns strung along the entrance. Massive arched windows lined the front, allowing glimpses of the lively party within, while the towering columns at the entrance gave the hall an air of old-world grandeur.

Inside, the hall was no less impressive. Polished hardwood floors stretched across the vast ballroom, reflecting the glittering chandeliers that hung like constellations from the high ceiling. The walls were adorned with gilded moldings and historical paintings, relics from the town's Spanish-era past, lending a sense of timeless elegance to the space. Guests in elaborate costumes and intricate masks glided across the dance floor, their laughter and conversation mingling with the soft music played by a string quartet positioned in the corner of the room. The party, though beautiful on the surface, carried an undercurrent of tension—one that only those with sharp instincts like Zyro could detect.

His eyes finally settled on her—Violet. She stood near one of the tall pillars that flanked the ballroom's sides, her violet gown shimmering like water under the dim light. Her mask, simple yet elegant, framed her eyes, which gleamed with the same dangerous allure he had always been drawn to.

Zyro approached her, a smirk already tugging at his lips. "Violet."

Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Zyro. Took you long enough."

Without missing a beat, Zyro extended his hand, and Violet accepted it with the grace of someone who had danced this dance many times before. He pulled her onto the dance floor, his hand resting firmly on her waist as they began to move in perfect rhythm with the music. The crowd of dancers around them melted into the background as their steps took them deeper into conversation.

"Enjoying yourself?" Zyro asked, his tone light as they swirled across the polished floor.

"Always," Violet responded smoothly, her voice low. "But I didn't come here just for the party."

Zyro's smirk deepened. "Figured as much. What's the real reason?"

Violet leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, "There's a rumor going around. The werewolves are speaking of a legend. Something... unsettling."