A Brutal Masquerade

Dancing with the Devil

A soft summer waltz rippled through the humid ballroom air, lapping at the mansion walls as a pungent cocktail of sweat and expensive perfumes stung my nostrils. My gloved fingers toiled with a half empty glass of chardonnay as several noblemen and women droned endlessly on around me. Every word spoken from their pursed shimmering lips fluttering up over my head in a chorus of clinking glasses and laughter. This was by no means a masquerade ball and yet every soul from the far spiral staircase to the massive tiled dancefloor, seemed to have their true selves obscured by painstakingly crafted masks. Each man with a shine to his teeth so white he must have swapped them for pearls, and every lady bound so tightly, one couldn't help but wonder how she managed to twirl so gracefully without greedily gasping for air. Porcelain dolls every last one of them, with strings tied to their wrists and feet. Although I could hardly ridicule them for that. Shifting in my seat I glanced down at the ties around my own wrists, drawn so small that if I fought my hands would surely be severed. "-and what of you Lord Mikk?" The pretentious drawl of a young fiery haired earl, whose name had already slipped my mind, jolted me away from my daydreams.

"I beg your pardon?" I spoke with all the false sincerity I could muster, no matter how bad a taste these people left in my mouth, they were still valuable assets to the Noah family... according to Sheril anyway... "We were just rousing Lord Vandort for lingering just a little too long in Miss Hearth's gaze." The corners of the young earl's mouth curled into devilish hooks and he placed an arm around the man in question, who instantly flushed a bright pink. "How much are you willing to bet her father's already hired three men to tear him a right new one auh?" I perked a little at the mention of the name Hearth, while indifferent to whatever nonsense entertained these spoon fed brats, that name was the reason I was there that night. "I wasn't aware the Lord had a daughter." Feigning disinterest, I gave my shoulders a small shrug and began to fish through my pockets with one hand. I retrieved a single diamond backed playing card and lifted it just below level with the table where we sat. There on my list, etched clear as day per request of the millennium himself, was the name Lord Augustus Hearth. I hadn't really been given all that much background on the man, just a name, a fancy invitation, and a kill order. "Lucky you," He chuckled, "She's enough to take your breath away but her dad will do it permanently. Hardly worth it." Whatever her father had done to scorn the Noah, or anyone else for that matter, to be perfectly honest didn't concern me, a small smile played about my lips as I returned the card to its place.

"You boys feel like lifting your tails from between your legs anytime soon?" I jeered, my words met with a small stunned silence. "Why don't you point her out for me? If her old man's as feared as you say then I doubt she's had a decent dance all night." What did interest me however, was the thrill of backing someone into a corner, that's when the masks come off. That's when a person's true nature steps to light and rears its ugly head. "Your funeral." The earl sniggered, rubbing at the back of his neck while nodding his head towards a table just a little ways down from our own. Rising up out of my seat and brushing the dust off my clothes, I started straight for her. What better way to corner a man and earn his malice than to steal what he holds most precious, and hold it over his head just out of reach.

As I neared I had ample time to take in this Miss Hearth's features, she had a soft rounded face with a warm ivory complexion, amber almond shaped eyes and sleek brown hair that fell in neat curls around her face and down her back. She was in fact quite beautiful but not in any extraordinary way. Just another doll with eyes as empty as the rest, the only human quality she seemed to possess was the apparent boredom on her face, where she sat slumped into the palms of her hands as if shackled by ball and chain. A man of strong resemblance who was quite obviously her father, howled with laughter among a small group of individuals I recognized from other events, that probably meant they were important to some degree... again, Sheril's strong suit, not mine... but none of them paid me any mind until I stood directly in-front of the girl. Extending my hand before her, I watched with a wolfish grin as her eyes lit up like the stars, tracking up my arm with disbelief until they finally landed on my face. "Forgive me Madam but I couldn't bear to watch your beauty wasted in this chair much longer." I sang, the men at the table held their tongues, every last one of them. That is if Lord Hearth hadn't gripped them on their behalf, I could already feel his unmistakable glare boring like knives into my skin.

"So quick to turn to flattery," She purred, accepting my outstretched hand with a practiced grace. "May I ask your name?" The poor girl was much too eager already, it was plain how easy this would be and for a moment I felt bad for roping her into my games. Hers wasn't the type of innocence I usually stole, but business is business. "Lord Tyki Mikk." I announced with a curt bow, raising her small dove like hand to my lips before leading her up from her seat. "Well my Lord, you may know me as Miss Annabelle Hearth." Annabelle took a step closer to me, by now I was sure half the room was holding their breath, the chatter had died down to nothing but as a result the music became strikingly clear. "Annabelle..." I let the name roll pleasantly off my tongue in a way sure to make her father's skin crawl, "Would you honor me with just one dance?" her cheeks dusted pink and her grip slightly firmed, "One or a thousand." She replied, and I softly caressed the side of her cheek like she'd been mine forever.

With that I escorted her onto the now empty dance floor, framed completely with gawking nobles and jealous young lords. Good. The more witnesses the better. Giving a small nod to the waiting pianist, I slipped my hand low around Annabelle's waist and lifted hers into a lead, lacing our fingers together as she draped her arm over my chest and shoulder. "Keep your eyes on me." I hummed softly as the first few notes sent us elegantly twirling into the center of the floor. Her face flushed red and she did as she was told, obediently staring up at me with those deep amber eyes, enough to make ones heart bust. But as each synchronized step pressed our bodies closer, tossing her hair and the skirt of her dress weightlessly back and forth. Like a beautiful lily, caught in a midsummers gale. I felt nothing. Not even the tiniest pang of lust let alone love. In a way that made this easier, pity could be simply cast aside and forgotten. I already had quite enough to haunt the darkness beneath my eyelids, not that any more could make much a difference. Anabelle let out a tiny gasp, narrowly avoiding stepping on my foot. This sent her into a sort of stumble from which she couldn't seem to recover, and without missing a beat I swept her into a dip, she swooned in my arms visibly embarrassed, and we held like that for a moment. She mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' and I let out a low chuckle, "I can save this if you'll let me." I whispered, squinting my eyes with amusement. She looked a little puzzled, but time was a luxury we didn't exactly have and so, much to her surprise and to the delight of the gossip crazed crowd, I crashed my lips into hers, silencing any questions she may have had.

Her grip on the back of my jacket tightened in alarm, but it took no time at all for her body to relax and her jaw to unhinge, allowing my tongue to slide over hers while the room erupted into applause and cheers. I could play these people any way I wanted, god if I were to set up a card game I'd leave with a small fortune. The kiss parted and Anabelle quickly brought up a hand to cover her mouth, unsure whether it was to keep me from repeating my actions, or to restrain herself from asking for more. A grin creased my lips and like a proper gentleman, or an even better showman, I lifted the lady to her feet and gave her an extravagant bow. She replied with an equally dramatic courtesy and I offered my arm, "That was marvelous Lord Mikk..." Anabelle praised as she graciously accepted, moving to walk the two of us back to her prison of a table, but I gently beckoned her to stay. "Come away from them now love," I soothed, It was time to see just how far she'd let me take this. "Why don't we escape this boring party hm?" She looked up at me wide eyed, a bit startled by my proposal but she hadn't outright declined. No matter what her answer turned out to be, the suggestion alone would no doubt earn me a private conversation with the revered Lord Hearth. Swinging her head to meet the scalding gaze of her father, and my target, I delicately pressed a hand to her cheek and guided her stare back to me. That's when I let a tiny glimpse of myself seep through my intricate charade, locking eyes with Lord Hearth across the ballroom my face was clearly adorned with the twisted smirk of a practiced con man. I gave him a sly wink before turning back to his precious daughter, his blood boiled like a kettle and he whispered something in the ear of the man beside him. "Where would we go?" Anabelle asked, timidly biting her lip. I ran my tongue across my teeth as I looked the girl up and down, "Don't fret m'lady, I know just where we can hide."