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I interpreted that as the threat it was. “Leave Mother out of this. I can’t…” There was no getting around it. “Because I promised the protector who’s been my partner for the last six months I’d go to a damn farewell party he’s throwing on mybehalf. I won’t stay long, but I’m in no state for two events tonight.”

Ronan was speechless for long seconds—a reprieve. He’d find his voice soon enough. Lucky winced, anticipating the oncoming storm.

“Are you telling me,” the Nachtigall heir drawled, voice slow and threateningly low, shadows gathering around him, though I doubted he was even calling to them on purpose, “that you, my blood brother, my friend of twenty-seven years, are rejecting my invitation for the sake of a valer bash with your new pals up there?”

“I am postponing,” I reworded, “for the sake of a prior engagement. Which you would have been informed of, had you called ahead.”

“Oh, we’re the kind of acquaintances who call ahead. I see.”

This was going nowhere, and my next headache was going to be due to a fury’s rage hex if I didn’t throw the damn idiot a bone. “Fine. Come with me.”

I would point him in Gideon’s general direction, and take cover. It could only go one of two ways. Murder or filthy, likely public, definitely depraved sex.

“Great!” Lucky beamed. “Can I come?”

“Hellno.” I wasn’t babysitting a nineteen-year-old around a bunch of valers I didn’t all trust tonight.

“Please, please,please! I’ll bring you more gin!”

The girl played dirty.

10

LUCIAN

Iglanced at the address again: 5th and 37th, D, seventh floor. I couldn’t say I’d ever been as far as the 37th.

We counted the streets as circles numbered from the inside out, the first being the Hall of Truce and Guard, and the last, by the gates, being the 40th.

Aboveground, Highvale was circular, surrounded by twenty-foot-tall walls and magic no one could hope to breach. Back in the day, the entire city stood empty topside, other than the gates, the Hall of Truce, and the Arena which currently housed the Guard, and the temples of the twelve gods. I wasn’t born back then, but I understood that Highvale had been a beautiful garden. The actual populated city was set underneath.

When we opened our doors to an influx of newcomers thirty-five years ago, we built accommodations for them above—and away from the rest of us.

The new houses were beautifully crafted in a variety of styles, which only had one common theme: splendor. Larger, taller, mansion-type edifices close to the gate, but the buildings closer to the center of the city were two or three stories tall, as to not eclipse the Hall or the Guard’s Arena—or darken the light of the public gardens.

The club was close to the gates of Dionysus—hence the D. We followed a similar setup for the address in the underside. I decided it was fitting for a drinking parlor to be established near the patron god of wine. We passed the street bordering the city walls where most of the trendy restaurants and night life had converged, into quieter, more imposing avenues—residences, mostly.

“This should be it,” Lucky said in front of a black door with a large brass knocker.

Before she could knock, it opened.

“Mr. Regis,” a gorilla-shaped man with an egg-shaped face and a negative amount of neck grunted. “And guests.”

I nodded, walking in. The long corridor led to an elevator. There was only a single button, so Ronan pressed it, before rubbing his hands together. “Oooh, it feels like we’re entering a new blood secret society.”

“That would be because we are about to enter a new blood secret society. Didn’t you see the beast at the door?”

Lucky tilted her head. “I’m pretty certain he was human. Like, ninety-five percent sure?”

“I’ll give you ten golds if you ask him,” Ronan challenged her.

All his annoyance from earlier had disappeared, replaced by excitement and mischief.

“Donotask the gorilla if he’s human,” I groaned. “Firstly: he isn’t. Secondly: we’re attempting to keep the girl alive, remember?” I told Ronan, who pouted.

The elevator opened in the center of a dimly lit, well-appointed lounge, decorated in blues and gold.

Divided in small clusters of tables where friends could mingle, open booths along a wall, and old-fashioned pub rooms with sliding doors, the place seemed both elegant and private. The music playing didn’t seem familiar at first, the classical notes agreeable.