Chloe hadn't expected Valerius to take her seriously. It had been an offhand comment, spoken one lazy afternoon when they were curled up in her new apartment, rain dripping against the windows. She had been watching a romantic period film, the kind filled with candlelit intrigue and masked balls where lovers whispered secrets in shadowed corners. The costumes, the mystery, the sense of hidden danger had thrilled her.

She had laughed, cheeks warm, and said, "I'd love to go to a masquerade ...