I’d been forced to revise my judgment of William Montague being an idiot.

Not because trying to sneak into an already forbidden floor of a house trying to find one of your siblings wasn’t idiotic. But some allowances had to be made. I didn’t know any fourteen-year-olds who weren’t idiots.

“I never thought Father would actually do it, of course,” the fourteen-year-old told me, the scowl on his face deepening. “But Lewins looked like he was considering it!”

Right beside me, Gregory chuckled.

“Lewins wouldn’t kill you, William, but he might have been tempted to,” he said. “He probably was running every snide remark you’ve made at his expense through his head. Weighing if blowing out your knee would be possible if he used the excuse of you being a shapeshifter.”

You are one to talk, Gregory, I thought inside my head and only in there. As much fun as it would be, it wouldn’t fit the mask I’d crafted for tonight.

“You’re one to talk, Gregory,” William Montague said, stealing my idea. “You easily needle Father, Lewins, in fact, everyone three times more than I do. It’s a wonder none of them have tried to kill you yet.”

“You must be mistaken,” I interjected. “Why would anyone ever want to hurt Brother Gregory?”

William rolled his eyes, turning to look over at his brother.

“How long has she known you, Gregory?” he asked.

“I’ve been visiting the Temple of Tarver here in the city for about a week,” I said. “I can talk for myself, you know?”

“Honestly, William, you read too much into things,” Gregory said. “Sister Waters here is from the countryside, and I’m just helping her acclimate to the city.”

“By inviting her to father’s ball,” William deadpanned, his scowl turning into an expression far too close to contempt for my liking.

“That’s my fault,” I said apologetically. “When I overheard Brother Gregory talking about attending a ball and having a free one for a guest, I insisted. Do you know how many balls they have in the countryside, Lord William?”

“So it’s lord for me and brother for Gregory?” William said. “Huh, I guess me outranking you in this strange little hierarchy makes up for you and her referring to each other like that. Makes it creepy knowing what’s going to happen later.”

“And what might that be?” I asked, and the strain in my voice wasn’t entirely faked.

“Show you off as arm candy because it’ll irritate Father, make everyone else uncomfortable, and then later doing the closest he can to an anim-”

A heavy hand slapped William’s back, driving the air out of the boy’s lungs and sending him reeling forward.

Behind him, a large bearded man in an army uniform gave him a smile that never quite reached the eyes.

“William,” the stranger said. “Finally old enough that father is letting you out of your room in the evenings, eh? Last time I saw you, you were barely up to my knee.”

He turned his attention to me and Gregory, warmth sprouting in those eyes. He came over, arms outstretched. Gregory seemed both happy and wary as who I presumed to be his brother hugged him, squeezing tightly. Eventually, Gregory begged to be let go before a rib cracked.

“Henry,” Gregory said once released from the bear hug. “You’re back already?”

“Came in yesterday on the Nover. It would have been earlier, but apparently, there’s been some chaos on the docks recently. You doing well?”

“As well as I could be. This is Sister Danielle Waters from the church. Sister Waters, this my brother Captain Henry Montague.”

“A pleasure,” he said. “I should probably go say hello to Father before William beats me there.”

The youngest Montague had vanished, leaving only the three of us alone.

“Probably going to accuse me of hitting him in the back of the head,” Henry said as he left. “We’ll talk more later Gregory! And hopefully us as well, Sister Waters!”

I gave a polite little wave as he left. His coming along had been nice but, unfortunately had not been a good test of my mask.

Coming as Katheryn Falara in spirit was stymied by one thing in particular: a guest knew Falara, and I didn’t want her putting any pieces together. So, another mask was needed, and I had one put together and on hand.

Albeit one mainly constructed from the novels I’d read, but I was an Infernal. They would be giving me side-eye anyway. As evidenced by William Montague. Danielle Waters would sit back and take verbal abuse. In theory.

“I do apologize for William,” Gregory said. “Almost being shot must have leached all the politeness out of him.”

“Did it?” I asked with fake cheer that anyone overhearing would detect. “Maybe that almost-bullet should have leached out his bile instead. Then again, it might have killed him if it did that. Clearly, venom has replaced his blood.”

That got me a dirty look from a few servants. Ah well, Miss Waters wouldn’t be living past tonight, so it's not an issue.

They had other things to pay attention to, as the rest of the guests should be arriving soon. Add in the lack of outside help and the guards stuck guarding the estate instead of helping. They should spend less time gawking at the Infernal and more time doing their jobs.

Oh, Hells, I was taking the sides of nobles against their servants.

Trying to drive that unpleasant thought out of my head thoroughly, I turned my attention to the manor's interior.

The main entrance hall stretched up all three stories to the main roof, the only interruption being the railings of the second-floor hallways that went all around the rectangle. Considering this doubled as a home, it was a bit strange, but apparently, all the rooms bordering the hall weren’t for living in.

Servants scurried about, most working on preparing tables and chairs while a twelve-person band prepared their instruments for the evening’s festivities. The kitchen doors opened, carrying the strong whiff of food inside.

Smelling that woke up the Imp.

We head there first, it said inside my head. You have yet to feed me a single cow, and you can consider the entire banquet paying off the interest.

I couldn’t even guess how it knew about the concept of interest. The food would be later, and I’d keep my portions sparse. I was not having people ask how I was devouring entire roast pigs.

I’d get the damn thing it’s cows tomorrow. Dead, not alive. Live was the worst.

“It’s a very open space,” I muttered to Gregory. The servants were busy. This place wasn’t as crowded as it would be later. The mask could drop some.

“Only one entrance open, though,” he said.

That would only help some. Forcing open windows or doors wouldn’t be challenging, especially not for people who could force their way through cracks. The only saving grace is I could not see that process being fast. Or easy on anything.

“The guests will start arriving in half an hour. Anything you want to do till then?”

“Give me a tour, maybe?” I asked. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be here again.”

And maybe we could get to the third floor.

***

In the end, we never even got close. I was back in the ballroom, attached at the hip to Gregory on the far side of the assorted Montagues here to greet their guests.

It was a slow affair, not helped by a too-heavy-on-strings band playing a plodding tune as the majordomo announced each group with every honorific they could possibly have. Hopefully, things would liven up as the guests arrived and chatter began. And the food. And potentially the dancing?

It would undoubtedly distract most of the party. I would not participate because the last five days hadn’t spared much time for dancing lessons.

We were on the outer edges, with Henry, William, and an uncle who looked at me like an overgrown lizard had wandered into his house, accompanied by a son who mostly seemed innocently curious in the way six-year-olds were.

The female members of the family were on the other side of Lord Montague, including his wife, who seemed just a few years younger than both of Gregory’s sisters. We’d exchanged words, and she seemed more polite than her husband. Or step-daughters, who, while not being as blunt, seemingly considered me little more than a prop their brother had brought to needle their father.

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Maybe that’s why there was a good eight feet of distance between us and Gregory’s family?

Occasionally, a guest would greet Gregory after the rest of the family. It was a mixed bag of older folks and his peers, most of whom had a strange case of blindness regarding me till Gregory introduced me by name.

Going from the guest list, we were about halfway through as I listened to commentary from Gregory.

“Oh joy, it’s the Melonones. She owes me money, and he wants me dead for something that was entirely out of my control. Their son once insulted my piano-playing abilities, and there is the little brat right now.”

“I am sad I haven’t heard you play at the temple yet,” I interjected. “It would be interesting to hear it at some point.”

For a cleric of a god of bards, I hadn’t heard a note out of Gregory. I was beginning to doubt he could play.

“Perhaps a private session in my room later?” He asked, loudly enough that William heard us and rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Not low enough to evade my enhanced hearing.

‘Playing her like he plays his violin, and she’ll probably be just as loud’? I increasingly sympathized with Lewin and their near-shooting of William.

“Oh, that would be nice, but I was thinking more of a performance here. Maybe drum up some inspiration for the band,” I said, gesturing towards the musicians.

It took effort for my eyes not to narrow as realization struck after that absent-minded wave. Was Lord Montague rich enough to afford musicians as part of his permanent serving staff? Whose word did we have to go on about no outside help being brought in besides Lord Montague’s?

Hells. And until the arrival of the guests was done, stepping away would draw attention. The guest’s attention wasn’t too important, not if we caught the changers, but if the changers suspected who I was, any suspicious moves might make them spring into action.

Twelve of them? That many could probably kill everyone here. I did my best not to look directly at them. Nothing about them stood out, but that could just be because they’d designed themselves to look that way.

“Diwei Xang, killer of the demon Trr’Xxx’Lll, descended from the same great Xang who helped out queen-.”

My head snapped back as the Majordomo practically destroyed his throat trying to pronounce that name. He recovered quickly enough to start listing other honorifics as my aunt entered, her severe face already judging all of us lesser beings within.

Perhaps I was being too harsh. She probably only considered those with horns lesser beings. Her gaze went my way, and I could see that deepening of her face. How many times had I seen that face as a child, just for the crime of being in her view? I gave a polite smile and a small bow, not quite reaching the proper incline I'd been instructed as for a child to show her respect, but deep enough so she could see all the modifications done to my dress.

Let her be angry at either my seemingly ignorant disrespect or a dress of her prided culture having been mutilated at foreign hands.

I didn’t recognize my cousins, who had grown older, but their expressions were perhaps only a mite warmer. She’d probably involved them in the family business despite a distinct lack of demons to kill.

Their entrance did draw the guests' attention, and several ventured over to greet her and talk as soon as she was done with Lord Montague. We weren’t nobility, but descent from one of Her Majesty’s companions and a known lineage of demon hunters brought perks.

The majordomo cleared his throat as two familiar figures stepped through.

“Mr. Voltar and Dr. Dawes, detective, and author.”

Well, it wasn’t going to be very hidden what Lord Montague’s opinion was, having that as their honorific. Why not announce you outright didn’t want them here?

If we’d arrived later, I wonder what mine would have been. Maybe he would have left that to William.

If it bothered my two erstwhile allies, it didn’t show as they stepped in and immediately got mobbed to a greater extent than my aunt’s family.

I will admit, my demonic heart took a little joy in seeing aunt Diwei’s expression at being upstaged.

The two of them had been heading towards us before they’d been swarmed, and I wished them luck trying to push through that crowd of curious nobility and upper crust.

Another familiar figure entered the ballroom, and immediately the slow dirge turned into a faster-paced, more joyful tune.

The urge to roll my eyes was overwhelming even as the Majordomo pronounced the newest guest’s name and easily a couple of dozen honorifics.

At this point I began to think Lord Montague was trying to destroy any possibility of a match between her and his heir.

I nudged Gregory’s hand as Lady Karsin stepped into the hall.

He glanced at me, a little shocked, but I nudged him again.

The best way to test the mask is exposure to someone who’d met you under another.

Of course, being the guest of honor in all but name, it took forever to reach Lady Karsin, who seemed to have Lord Montague glued to her side permanently.

Much to the displeasure of Lady Montague, whose smile seemed more strained the longer her husband was spending next to Lady Karsin.

By the time we reached her, Lord Montague had spotted us long ago, and his frown was well set.

“Gregory,” he said, tone warning. “You’re already trying my patience and now this?”

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized with faked nervousness. “I kind of begged him to meet her. I am Danielle Water, an apprentice cleric in the Temple of Tarver. It’s just…I’ve never heard of an elf noble before. My apologies, your lady.”

The curtsey I did was deliberately sloppy and did get an eye twitch out of the elvish noble.

“It is uncommon,” she said. “I don’t suppose you’d like to hear the story sometime?

“I’d be very interested,” I said. “But I don’t know how often I can get out of the temple.”

“Yes, it’s very strange,” she said. “Actually, I’m more than a little confused. Can’t Infernals not channel the light of the divine?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, stammering. “Well, technically not.”

“Gregory,” Lord Montague said warningly.

“It’s alright, Bartholomew,” Lady Karsin said, staring at me intently. “I can spare a few moments for what is clearly such an interesting aberration. You can channel the light of Tarver, then?”

I met her gaze, a somewhat stunned, unconfident grin on my face. Whatever her involvement in this, she had to be wondering, had to be thinking about who I was.

I held my palm up, and a small ball of light formed, faint music barely audible while beneath my flesh sizzled. Murmurs broke out among the crowd even as burn marks appeared on my skin.

“Yes, it just hurts a lot,” I got out before the ball of light vanished suddenly.

Lady Karsin’s expression was one of shock, matched by everyone else around us.

“Sister Waters,” Gregory said, recovering first. “What did I tell you about doing that? Let’s go aside. Let me see what you’ve done to yourself.”

I let myself get pulled away, closing my hand to keep my skin covered. And make sure nothing inside got spotted.

Some people were too easy to fool. Illusion for the ball. Incorporating a heat projector in my hand for the warmth and some of the damage to my skin that resembled the divine burns channeled through the diabolic. A small tube running parallel to my vein, ready to poke out just a smidge at my wrist to carry the music playing from a box in my purse. Finally, small pockets of acid were waiting to be released and complete the illusion.

Behind me were a few jokes about exactly what parts of my skin Gregory wanted to examine from the quickest recovering members of my impromptu audience, as well as a very confused Lady Karsin.

Partial success. She was suspicious, but she didn’t know for sure. And she wouldn’t be thinking of possible ways I could have done that till later, at which point Danielle Waters was a finished identity.

As I walked away, Lord Montague remained nearby, not succeeding too much at hiding his joy at our brief encounter.

There were too many guests around, so I leaned into Gregory. He stiffened even as I tried to close the distance to his ear before whispering.

“Pretend that you’re taking your newest ‘friend’ for a private discussion in a corner up on the second floor,” I murmured. “In one just public enough to needle your father.”

Gregory stiffened just a tad more as he glanced my way. I drove down the instinct to kick him over those obvious tells.

Only a light kick, but the urge was there.

We found a part of the upper floor balconies that none of the other guests had ventured up to yet. Just within view that if anyone was looking for us they’d spot us in one of the four now isolated corners.

Well, they’d spot Gregory, and maybe part of me.

I hadn’t realized he would be this close, what was maybe a foot but felt like half. His hand went up against the wall near my head.

“So, you wanted to talk?” He asked.

It was hard to focus with how close he was. Green eyes met mine and they were so large.

“Uh, yes,” I said before collecting myself. “I think we can call this mask a success.”

“You know I was half-worried you got replaced by a shape-changer,” Gregory said.

I idly looked down at the entrance hall below us. There were a few errant looks, amusement, and anger down there.

No one paid enough attention to us that I needed to maintain the mask fully. He was leaning in enough, and lip readers would be stymied at this distance.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said. “At the bare minimum, I think I firmly convinced the one person here I wanted to.”

“Lady Karsin?” Gregory’s eyes narrowed. “Why her specifically?”

“Something is suspicious about her being targeted,” I said. “But truthfully? She’s probably the only person here who’s both met me before and doesn’t know I’m here in disguise. I hope.”

“We didn’t tell her. Father was certain she wouldn’t show if she knew you were here.”

“Well then, I feel much more confident in my disguise for tonight,” I said.

“Or you could have asked me,” Gregory said. “I feel like I’ve had a stranger on my arm this entire time.”

“You’ll have to endure. Listen. All the servant’s entrances are sealed, correct?”

Gregory raised an eyebrow. “They should be.”

“And no one besides those on the guest list was supposed to get inside, right?”

Gregory was quick on the uptake. “There are more people inside than there should be, aren’t there?”

I nodded. “If I had to guess, in servant’s livery. Duplicating guests would be picked up on too fast. I tried finding out who the spares were, but the party is moving too swiftly, and there were too many people. We’ll need spare eyes to try and spot the duplicates.”

“Or we focus on the servants,” Gregory suggested.

“It’s a guess, not a certainty,” I said. “They could be showing up as well, a generic group of the upper crust, counting on everyone else to assume your father knows them from somewhere else.”

“And Father remains busy monopolizing Lady Karsin,” Gregory said.

“Your brother is on the third floor, isn’t he?” I asked.

Gregory grimaced. It was impossible to miss this close. “I heard him screaming from there this morning.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s still there,” I countered. “And your father is acting far too casual about all of this. Were the musicians on the guest list?”

Gregory frowned. “The musicians?”

“Yes, the musicians. Unless your father employs twelve musicians just to play ambient music for your house.”

Gregory’s eyes narrowed. “He wouldn’t.”

“He did. More headaches. Well, I suppose we’ll have to deal with it.”

Silence followed my statement and continued onwards as Gregory turned to examine the ballroom down below, then turned back towards me.

“You know, we will have to sell this little charade you’ve purposely set up for us,” Gregory said, leaning in even closer, emerald eyes staring piercingly into my own. There were only inches between us now. His hand reached around, settling in the small of my back. His skin felt so smooth against mine, soft and untouched by labor. My traitorous tail reached up and looped around his wrist, keeping it there. “I do wonder precisely why you picked this one?”

Because it’s how Lord Cabanash takes Lady Marla’s first kiss in the starting chapters of- I cut that errant thought off. He gently pulled me closer and with each inch a heat bloomed in my chest, growing in intensity. This close, he smelled of violets. Hesitatingly I brought a hand up to grab the back of his head, fingers going through brown curls till they found skin. A second later his other hand did the same.

“Well,” I said, any flushed appearance on my cheeks definitely to sell the ruse and for no other reason. “It needed to fit into something you should do, and something that wouldn’t appear off to anyone below, needed a reason for us to get away from the party but not disappear because that would cause even more suspicion, and-”

“And I think you need to stop talking,” Gregory said, hand on my back gently pulling me into him. “Don’t you?”

The fire inside me burst into an inferno. I could practically feel the warmth of his skin already as he closed the rest of the distance.

“Gregory!”

I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to kill or thank Lord Montague.