Hell's Company

Chapter 8 (Edited)

I forgave Michael, partially because I had to and mainly because I wanted to. He was the only friend I had left. I often wondered what was meant about his secrets. Here, I had no idea. Was he involved with bad people, did he work for Lucielle, was he a spy of some sort? I just didn't know. Everything was still so new and unfamiliar to me, alarming and unpredictable.

He kept me busy every day, though, with dancing lessons and taking me out for dinner or to the spa. Since that one outing with Fia, he seemed to really enjoy it so we continued to go back. We went to a couple more welcoming parties and both times I didn't see Fia, but I found myself looking for someone else, a particular bastard with intense gray eyes. I didn't catch any glimpses of him either, to my disappointment.

Grudgingly, I had come to realize the turbulent feelings I had been experiencing were because of Luca and not what Fia had done. The emotions that were storming inside me and directed to Luca were confusing. I hated him, but why did I strain my neck to look into the crowd when I thought I saw his unruly black hair and why did I turn on impulse when I thought I felt his eyes on me? Like Michael had warned me, he was an asshole, he was dangerous, and he was trouble. Though, wasn't it Michael who told me I needed to live a little? I needed to stay away from him, but I couldn't. I was so conflicted.

I would be discouraged and I would want to go home, but I put on a good show for Michael so he could enjoy himself while he was here, instead of babysitting me. I don't think constantly dealing with and watching a woman as if she were a child would be an ideal afterlife for anyone. So, pretending to have a good time for his sake was the least I could do. I would encourage him to dance with other women and I pointed out girls I found attractive. I made myself appear to be social, chatting and dancing with a few people, but when we finally retreated back home and I slipped into bed, I would almost weep tears of joy.

My dancing improved vastly over the course of those few weeks, with lessons every day. There were many different types of dances and all with confusing steps that I slowly became more and more used to as Michael taught me to count with them. I loved the way Michael's face lit up when he rushed into my apartment and told me they finally set the date and place for the masquerade party.

"You'll love it, I think. It's supposed to be all classy and only relatively safe people have been invited. It's super formal so I'll need to get a find a better suit but one of your long dresses would work and then we need masks. Your eyes will look beautiful under a mask, though I wish I could see the rest of your face." He had said with a blindingly bright smile.

Now it was the day or night of the party and I had been practicing dance moves for hours while staring at the lovely blue dress I had found in my closet. It was long, naturally, but made of a smooth cloth that hugged my torso and fell loose after my hips. The skirt swooshed around my legs as I twirled and spun. The day prior, Michael had taken me to some hidden store and we each got masks that would match what we were wearing. The ocean colored fabric of my dress and the mask made my eyes appear impossibly blue. My makeup was fairly simple again, mainly because the mask would cover several inches of my face. I put on mascara and black eyeliner as well as red lipstick. My hair fell in waves over my shoulders and down my back.

I got ready quickly and waited for Michael, deciding I wouldn't put on the mask until we were near the party because it all but took away my peripheral vision and in Hell, that made me feel uneasy. Anyone could reach from some hidden doorway or a corner and gain the upper hand on me. Just my luck, there wouldn't be any bricks around that time, but I could use my stiletto as a weapon...

Michael knocked, stirring me from my increasingly dark thoughts, and I raced to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Wow, Seph, you look amazing." Michael actually seemed sort of stunned, though he had seen me in all types of attire. He's seen me when I look homeless, when I'm disgustingly sweaty after our practices, in casual wear like jeans and t-shirts, and dressed to the nines.