A/N: For Rachel Olsen-Williams, my beta, friend, and the inspirer of this wonderful story.

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"Are you quite sure you have an invitation to the Princess' ball, my fanged friend?"

The salt-and-pepper haired fairy butler intoned with an air of unabashed snootiness, his eyebrow quirked and an apprising, judgmental frown donning his otherwise luminous countenance.

He eyed me up and down, squinting as he gathered from my slightly dampened clothes that I had not arrived in a carriage as the other guests had, but presumably had walked – although I had actually flown – a short distance in the rain. In his estimation, my worth, and my pedigree, rated far below the other invitees of the night, I was an imposter at best – that much was clear to me, even without the advantage of my preternatural sight. A small self-satisfied smile curled at the corner of my mouth as I slipped a pale hand into the concealed pocket of my coat. I produced an, albeit slightly crumbled, invitation bearing Prince Niall's waxy red seal pressed against the edging of the envelope.

With his expression a mix of terror and apology after he accepted my offering with a shaking hand, the fairy butler swung his head low, but not quite into a sweeping bow.

"My apologies, Sir Northman. All manner of ruffians have been attempting to infiltrate the party this evening, hoping to partake in the splendor and decadence of Prince Niall's youngest granddaughter's birthday celebration."

I mentally savored the word decadence, giving the quaking frontman a fangy smile along with a slight tip of my black-rimmed hat, as I swept past him through the double-doored entrance into the entryway.

The foyer reserved in some houses for the shedding of well-worn or sullied clothing was markedly the opposite here – opulent, punctuated by stone and an expansive staircase leading up to a second floor I could only dream to grace. The bedrooms were shrewdly tucked away in that direction, and inaccessible for public view. While I hoped to enjoy the pleasures of some fairy-folk this evening, I was not so bold to believe I would be – or so stupid to risk – finding myself between the legs of a Brigant. That path surely led to destruction. No, I had no intents to breach the barrier to the untold wonderland that laid just atop the Tigerwood stairs.

But it was a nice thought, dancing at the edges of my imagination as I glanced my palm against the hard, lacquered wood on my way into the Great Room – the party.

"You dared to arrive without a mask?!" A short, broad fairy woman slurred with a foul-smelling hiccup, repeatedly swatting me with an off-white laced fan, the fine particles ripped unceremoniously and flailing through the air, "It's a masquerade ball!"

I stilled, my gaze drifting easily over the crown of her head towards the jubilee in full-swing just beyond her planted stance. I could have moved her with ease, flung her out of the way and into the nearby frenzy with a simple flick of my wrist – but then I would have been shown the door, escorted away or possibly staked. It was a mask she asked for – a pithy requirement for entry by any means, and I was not unwilling to oblige.

I once again slipped my hand into my inner breast pocket, a gold and black fleur-de-lis mask reemerging in my grasp. I placed it against my face, tying the ribbons against my blonde hair and submitting to the fairy woman's drunken entreaty.

"There!" She clapped, her hands grazing one another instead of meeting and resulting in an appreciative sound, "Now, get in there Romeo," another revolting hiccup, she reiterated, "Go get you some tail, Romeo!"

She slapped the now-closed fan against the contours of my ass as I ambled past her, and I momentarily considering turning the Princess' ball into a bloodbath. But no, again, I told myself – this transgression could be overlooked. But if the night continued much the same, I would not continue to be quite so forgiving.

The imbibed stocky ingénue fell flat on her butt, wailing as though the sky had fallen and crushed her in its wake. I may have utilized my vampire speed to sweep her legs out of under her. I also may not have. Who could say? But I did know that I did not take the blame, sauntering into the Great Room as though it was my Mecca, the paradise I had traveled halfway across the world to find.

I'm Only Joking by the band Kongos rang out in the background.

A sea of color swirled in front of me – greens, blues, and yellows – circling in a choreographed dance foreign to me, but presumably native to the fairy people. I unconsciously smoothed down my still damp lapels, hoping to un-crease the slight wrinkles threatening to persist throughout the night. My confidence unwavering, despite my irritatingly disheveled appearance, I stole across the wall, meeting the small crowd apparently refusing to partake in the pervasive scene. A few glances were thrown my way, the majority of the fairy people retreating, before one of the few women remaining approached me. She smelled like sunlight, and sin.

"You're one of the only vampires here, you know?"

She mused languidly, her French-tipped fingers reaching out to touch my arm before she pulled away abruptly, without ever making contact.

Interesting.

I was not her first vampire it seemed.

Her curled flaxen hair batted against her waist as she stepped away from me, her stiletto black heels screaming fuck me. The solid-purple feathered mask adorning her tanned skin gave little indicators in regards to her beauty, but her blue eyes sang the song of her soul. They were deep, and questioning – searching my own for secrets I had no intents to tell. Her white satin dress clung seductively, snugly against the ample curves of her body, concealing nothing and everything all at once. It exposed her arms and the expanse of her back, but otherwise reached all the way up to her neck, circling it with a clasp clung tightly at the nape. The skirt of the dress covered her legs, or so I thought until she swished about again, exposing two long slits, trailing up to her hips on both sides.

I was transfixed and turned-on; I did not even bother to hide it.

"Yes," I responded, with my fangs protruding in a manner more flirtatious than threatening. My tongue lazily licked at my top lip between them as I paused for effect, "I was aware the Princess' birthday bash would be proliferated mostly by Fae."

Her pupils darkened slightly, and I imagined a pink-hued blush bloomed across her cheeks – although her mask obscured any chance for confirmation.

"Do you know much about the Princess?"

She whispered through pouty coral-tinged lips, stepping closer to me again – still without touching me.

"Only what was penned on calligraphic script on the linen-papered invite, her name – Shoshona," I admitted, remembering how the invitation from Niall Brigant had come out of the blue. I had not even known he had a granddaughter prior to the occasion, "Otherwise, she is an enigma, a cipher – I would almost be keen to believe Brigant made her up, if he had not bothered to throw a lavish party in her honor. Although the jury is still out, since I have yet to meet the mysterious creature."

The white-clad woman laughed, heartily, before tugging at my shirt and reaching with some difficulty – my towering height posing a challenge – to press her soft lips against mine. She tasted sweet, like honey and sunlight, and instantly I increased the pressure of the kiss, my hands snaking about her waist. My tongue lightly tapped at the seam of her lips – seeking entrance – but she did not part her lips. Instead she pulled back out of my embrace, winking as she lowered herself back down from her uneasy tip-toed stance.

"Enjoy the party," she murmured breathlessly, smiling wickedly as she trailed a single finger down the goosebumps scattered about the sun-kissed, naked flesh of her arm, "Vampire or not, I doubt you'll have any trouble finding a willing partner tonight. To dance with, of course."

She threw me a second, somehow cheekier wink before she glided away, her innuendo left hanging in the now charged, veritably electric air – her words having taken almost corporeal form. I watched as the unknown, masked temptress crossed the room, her hips swaying seductively from side to side. Although I did not blink – because I had no need – she managed to slip out of sight. What a pity. But I felt certain, given the few events that had transpired so far, that she was correct.

If I played my cards right, I would leave here a very happy vampire.

A/N: More to come. Much more.