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I sighed. "We really don't have any proof one way or another. Most unders don't come to these parties, except the founders and a few nobles."

"It could still be one of them."

To her, blamingthemwas always going to win over blamingus. I didn't know how to explain that the person who wanted to hurt me could be anyone.

"We should go to that club." She stood, enthused. "Check it out. If it's the most popular in unders, it's a good place to start."

"Silver,no. There's nothing we can find out at a club."

"We can see if it was the same lust spell used, right?" she insisted. "We can take an antidote, like you say, and have a look around. It wouldn't hurt to see who's used to hanging out in places serving lust spells so casually. Maybe they even thought yesterday was a prank. Wait until I get my hands around their throat. Aphrodite’s tits, I fuckedGideon."

This made me giggle as much as the first time I heard it. I couldn't imagine two people less compatible than those two. The sex, lust spell or not, must have been awful.

For my sanity, I didn't ask.

Twisting my hair into tight braids out of habit, I thought things through. On one hand, Silver was probably wrong, butif the same lust spell had been used, perhaps the managers of Pan's knew a supplier capable of making it in big enough quantities to affect a whole ballroom. I could observe people, see if they exhibited the exact same symptoms I had—the giddiness, the slight high, and then, the all-consuming need to fuck. I couldn't exactly interrogate anyone, but I could relay the information to Gideon so he'd take over.

"Fine," I relented, mostly because I knew better than to try to stop Silver from doing whatever she wanted to do.

The best I could do was tag along to make sure she didn't start beating people up, demanding to know who cursed her.

Besides, I was curious about Pan's. A club owned by a god? Lucian said it so casually, as though it was no big deal. To him, maybe it wasn’t, but the very concept was so intriguing.

"You'll have to let me borrow some clothes. I can't exactly show up to an unders club in beige slacks."

40

LUCIAN

Even Zazel felt sorry for me. I was that pathetic. I'd dropped right into the drawing room, on the sofa, too spent to find the strength to drag myself into my bed. The house was kind enough to place a cool compress against my forehead.

I wasn't certain how long I'd spent like that when the most annoying voice I've ever heard started to yell. "By all the gods, Luce, what the fuck? Are you dead?"

I wish I were. Death sounded a lot less painful than this headache.

"Too loud," I groaned, resolutely keeping my eyes shut. "Go away."

Ronan had never been one to take a hint—or a directfuck off.

"Oh, lord. What's wrong with you?"

"Raised three corpses," I grunted, knowing he wouldn't let it go.

He was annoying like that. Nosy, and far too fond of me to let me suffer without knowing the reason behind it.

"Three?" he screeched. "Butwhy?"

Why indeed. I didn't know why I bothered. All three had the same exact story. No, they couldn't identify the attackers. Yes,there were more than one. Two or three, they weren't sure. A laugh, a voice, and pain. The end. The last corpse, Mr. Manson, added that he remembered cloaks.

What a supreme waste of energy.

Well, not really. Until today, we hadn't known we were dealing with a team. But I could have stopped at good oldNancy.

"Kleos," I summarized.

That was enough for Ronan. "Ha. Oh, well. Let's get you back into shape."

I chanced opening one eye.My friend, stupid man that he was, was offering me his hand.