“You clean up nicely, you know” Cassandra offered, her hand reaching out as Bellamy helped her exit the limousines. She proceeded to slip her arm around his, interlocking them as they approached the front of the opera house.

  She wore a classic evening gown that draped over her like a second skin, the near black violet silk shimmering in the evening light with an almost ghostly translucence. The fabric shifted and danced with every slight motion, catching Bellamy’s eye again and again as it clung elegantly to her curves before pooling like spilled ink at her raised heels.

  His gaze lingered on the embroidered rose near her exposed neck – golden petal wilting, falling down the dress in a slow descent, their twisting thorned vines tracing her side. Where the final thorn met the fabric, the dress parted, the slit opening to reveal the length of her legs.

  The dress left her shoulders bare, but his eyes traced the path of her arm to the black laced opera gloves. The fabric wove together, denser and denser until her hands were fully embraced in shadow. Finally, atop her head, an intricate silver headpiece rested. Its design snapped into place like joints of interlocked fingers. Delicate, deliberate, difficult to look away from.

  “So much for just another face in the crowd” Bellamy muttered, forcing himself to look ahead.

  He stifled a sigh and a grimace. Cassandra had explained her power, as long as the metaphor was valid her Manifestation would remain active. Meaning that as long as they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, and someone didn't already know it was them, no one would be able to recall too many details about them. In truth it wasn't him and Cassandra he was worried about. Johan was acting as the body guard, but their head was literal fire of shadow. If he was forced to act their cover would be blown immediately.

  He and Johan wore simple well fitting tu– … dinner jackets. Jet black in color with a white pleated pattern, and a bow tie to match. Bellamy was dressed up a tad more with white gloves, slicked back hair hidden by a short top hat, and a cane in his free hand.

  Bellamy pictured the target’s file in his mind, recalling the details Cassandra had given him.

  It was sparse on useful information. The Eternal Family had no idea what was happening with Viracio until it was too late, for all their information gathering tactics even the Cult of Bone didn’t know everything.

  The trio reached the door, Johan stepping forward to present their tickets and introduce them. “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Hollance.” To Bellamy, the shade's voice was unchanged, still holding that far off radio like quality, but the doorman didn’t seem to notice at all.

  The doorman quickly checked his list with practiced efficiency before putting on an award winning smile, bowing slightly as he gestured them in with a dramatic flourish. “One of our personal attendants will be with you tonight. Please, ask anything of him.”

  On cue, an older gentleman in his late 50s stepped forward, dressed in similar garb to Johan, a blue porcelain badge of a musical note adorning his lapel, matching the other attendants waiting in the wings or attending to their own guests. The man bowed low as they entered.

  “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Hollance. My name is Edmund Lyle. I’ve noted on the guest list that you have been invited by Mr. Fairchild, a truly auspicious and caring patron of our establishment. The performance will begin in approximately one hour in the meantime I can provide you champagne and other refreshments”

  “A lovely friend, and yes Champagne for my Husband and I to start the night would be pleasant. Could you show us the way to Mr. Fairchild? He should be expecting us.”

  “Of course Mrs. Hollance” Edmund replied as he began to lead the way.

  “That was your que Bellamy” Cassandra whispered. Bellamy frowned, his brows creasing heavily.

  “What? You started talking immediately” he whispered back.

  “No. There was a lull. That’s when you step in.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s not supposed to be a lull unless you’re drinking, smoking, or someone else is talking. It’s considered disrespectful to your partner if you make me jump in for you.”

  Bellamy suddenly wished he had asked more about expected etiquette. He had expected conversation, the uppity nature of the patrons, the bows, and subtle politics. He didn’t expect meaning to who talked first or if there was a microscopic lull in the conversation. It was times like this that he could feel a headache wanting to grow into pangs of discomfort, but being undead he couldn’t even get that satisfaction.

  “Next time someone from the slums says they can get by with etiquette. Know that while they think they’re telling the truth, they’re not.” he muttered as he continued following Edmund Lyle.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The Grand Proscenium opera house could best be described as ostentatious and overbearingly opulent. The floor seemed to be one large sheet of marble which spanned the entire length of the gathering hall. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their many glittering jewels twinkling like stars. Velvet curtains, long and flowing lined the walls. From beyond the entrance the soft sounds of an orchestra could be heard blending in with the murmurs of conversation.

  “Mr. Fairchild. May I present Mr. and Mrs. Hollance.” Edmund spoke, interjecting into a mingling group as soon as one of the members finished their sentence.

  This time Bellamy was prepared, as even before the attendant finished speaking, he was already stepping forward, hand outreached to shake the man that he was supposed to know. He didn’t know how Mr. Fairchild was related to the cult of bone, but he had been listed as an asset for their little mission.

  “Jameson. It’s so nice to see you again. It’s been far too long. Although, I have to admit, if you want to talk you’re always welcome for dinner.”

  Mr. Fairchild took his hand and shook it enthusiastically, “of course of course Felix, your staff always makes the most delightful desserts. How you’re so tall rather than wide I’ll never know” the man let out a guffawing laugh, which everyone in the circle, including Cassandra, imitated.

  “Please. Add your hat and you’re taller than I am.

  “Quite true, quite true, but I invited you here to introduce you to some of my associates. As a patron of this establishment I also want to introduce you to some of the performers. There are quite a few who may interest you in funding.”

  Another voice broke into the conversation, “So that’s why you invited them. When you said you had friends coming I truly had no idea what to expect” a pale man with short blond hair and green eyes nodded towards Bellamy before extending his hand in greeting, “Taylor Westworth, and you must be Felix Holland”.

  “Indeed sir” Bellamy responded, the words awkward in his mouth, “I met Mr. Fairchild when he visited the Atrean Islet. He was fascinated by some of the unique underwater painting methods and I was able to show him one of my charges' work in real time.”

  “The Islet?” Taylor’s partner spoke up, a woman with short cropped hair with just a touch of makeup to compress her full frame. She directed her words at Cassandra – or rather Marina for tonight – practically vibrating with excitement. “I’ve always wished to go, tell me is it true anyone can breathe underwater there? Or is that an over exaggeration?

  “It’s quite true” Cassandra beamed as she leaned closer to the woman, pretending to whisper conspiratorially “our bedroom is under water, its like sleeping in a hot tub”

  “Don’t you prune?” The women gasped.

  “That’s the thing, whatever magic allows us to breathe underwater stops that too!”

  Some of the circle began to break off with Cassandra as she regaled them with details of the Atrean Islet, but before she broke off entirely she walked back to Bellamy and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back, love.”

  Bellamy would’ve flushed if he could have, instead he looked away towards Johan, giving him a small nod to stick with Cassandra before returning to his own conversation.

  “Oh ho, two love birds still” Taylor chuckled, walking to Bellamy's other side, giving him a hearty pat on the back, “Lily’s and my parents arranged our marriage. It’s gotten better since we first met, but still … tell a fellow man your secrets”

  Shit. This wasn’t covered in the prep. Bellamy had never been with a woman before. Sexually or romantically. He was undead and while some undead still had their senses Bellamy only had sight and hearing. He did however, often make friends with women and heard them complain about their partners.

  “Flowers, good food, entertainment, and effort” he shrugged before whispering low, “and while the opera house may be good as a bonding and social activity I wouldn’t call it exciting, but dancing at a speakeasy.”

  He leaned back to see Taylor mulling the information over, seemingly conflicted about the thought of slumming it with the poor.

  “He's right alright.” Mr.Fairchild – Jameson – nodded along, “these places are higher forms of art. It pays to cut loose every now and then, and if you’re lucky it’ll happen in more ways than one.” He said the last words with a knowing wink.

  Taylor for his part finally understood and nodded more enthusiastically. “I see the wisdom in your words. Truly wise” he tapered off, lost in thought before a laugh from Jameson filled the silence.

  “Say Mr. Westworth” he continued, “Have you heard word from any of The Grand Families? I’ve been busy with my own businesses , so haven’t had my ear to the ground as it were.”

  Taylor grimaced slightly, “Yes, ever since that dreadful incident at Penny’s they’ve been rather tight lipped. I have gotten word that members from the Vasquez and Holloway families will be here tonight. I find it hard to believe the Volkov’s and Devereaux’s won’t send someone if the other two show their faces.”

  “They can’t go around business as usual. Not with The Wardens breathing down their neck.” Bellamy interjected.

  “Don’t tell anyone this, and if you do you didn’t hear it from me, but apparently The Wardens presence is putting them at ease.”

  “What?” Jameson interjected

  Taylor nodded solemnly, “apparently they don’t go anywhere unless there’s Wardens nearby. I can’t imagine why, but whatever's got them spooked they’re hoping The Wardens scare away.”

  Silence passed between the three of them. This time it was left unfilled as the implications set in. Unlike the other two Bellamy had enough information to come to a conclusion. Viracio.

  “Tell me” Bellamy finally broke the silence, “while it has been great to meet you I do have another who requires some of my time. A Mr. Brown. I’ve not seen him in ages, but I know he loves this opera house. Have you seen him?”

  “Yes actually” Taylor said, happy for a change in subject, “I saw him walk backstage with the performers.”

  “Oh perfect” Jameson pat Bellamy on the back, “We can go meet some of the performers I wished to introduce you to. Give them a little motivation to put on the best show they can.”

  Bellamy nodded, moving to gather Cassandra and Johan. He approached from the side, making sure she saw him out of the corner of his vision before he gently rested a hand on her shoulder, “Love. Jameson has offered to introduce us to some of the performers if you care to join us.”

  Cassandra smiled, and subtly gestured to the entrance of the hall where a group from what looked to be the Volkov family stood mingling near the doors – numerous body guards keeping vigilant watch. There he saw someone he recognized. One of the temporary Wardens from The Congregation, the red head acting as one of the body guards. Although his hair was blonde now … had that been blood that night instead?

  “Hmm. You know what I like” she elbowed him playfully, “I trust your decisions. Plus it’s been forever since I’ve talked to people from Velnias proper. Lily was telling me about this fascinating drama she saw the other week.”

  Bellamy made eye contact with The Shade, still unnerved by the fact that no one had noticed his clearly undead nature. He nodded gesturing clearly with his head towards Cassandra, a motion to keep up appearances.

  He reached for one of her hands and kissed the back of it before giving her a smile. “Then I’ll leave you to your conversation. Perhaps we’ll have some guests in the coming months.” He gave one last smile and wave to the rest of the group before following Jameson backstage.

  As he crossed the threshold into the theatre another individual caught his eye – her form jogging lightly across the stage, Charley, the singer from The Last Dance.

  Bellamy grit his teeth. It was another powder keg, like Penny’s. This time he knew the pieces at play.

  No matter what, tonight would be chaos. He just had channel it best he could.