Page 56

Toxic

T eddy, Wolfie, and I sneak out of the library with as much dignity as we can. The boys have assured me they fixed my hair, so I don’t look like a troll doll that’s been fucked six ways from Sunday. I don’t have much I can do about the lipstick. I’ll be damned if Wolfie didn’t apply Teddy’s makeup with some sort of magical glue because he looks fresh as a daisy.

“Don’t worry, sugarplum,” he murmurs as we follow Teddy into the ballroom. “No one but our folks will have noticed.”

I snort. “I should be so lucky.”

“They’d better not bother any of us or I’ll be far less kind than I was to my mother,” Teddy growls, grabbing my hand to tug me into the crowd of dancing people.

Smiling to myself, I pull Wolfie along as well, following him as he seeks the rest of our motley crew. “Careful, Edgar Olivier Boone III. People might think you’re off the market.”

“I am.”

Wolfie chuckles, pointing to where Prez and Doyle have been cornered by the Behles. They aren’t yelling, but the energy radiating from my Irish lover is intense. I highly doubt that asshole is going to lie off—if he didn’t realize this isn’t the venue for the discussion before, my arrival won’t change his behavior. I look for Seer, seeing her in the corner with someone I don’t know.

I’m going to have to employ the ‘loud club, but we need a distraction to escape’ protocol from Germany. Turning to Teddy, I tap his shoulder so he’ll stop. “I need you to lift me up high. The guys need a distraction, and I know how to get one.”

He gives me a doubtful look, but leans down, cupping his hands for me to step on. Grasping his shoulders, I step up, letting him lift far above the crowd like a goddamned ESPN cheerleader. Seer sees me and her eyes widen. I grin, moving my hands and arms in a series of motion a little like baseball signs so she knows what I need. Once I finish, she nods, winking at me as she excuses herself from the chatty person to do as I ask.

If this works, I’ll keel over. It’s not something Seer and I haven’t done before, but this is Whistler’s Hollow, not Europe. I don’t know if starting an impromptu flash mob will work, but I’m willing to try. Hell, these idiots couldn’t think worse of me if they tried, so it’s not like I’ll ruin my sterling reputation.

My bestie comes running up, her eyes dancing as she whispers in my ear. A chuckle falls from my lips as I hear what she chose—this should be pretty interesting when played by a small orchestra with the smoky chanteuse they have singing. I’m surprised they agreed, but I guess everyone needs a little amusement at a stiff-necked party like this, right?

We take our places in the middle of the dance floor, waiting for the first chord from the strings section to draw attention. When the sharp sounds of the bows being drawn hard across them echoes in the room, everything stops. All the whispers and noise of the crowd goes silent as we dance along with the beat, and when the singer finally chimes in, a roar of applause starts.

As we move through the first verse of Queen B’s song, girls come running up, joining in despite their ballgowns and heels. Before the end of the bridge, there are almost thirty students and alumnae slinking through the most famous performance of this song as if we practiced for weeks. The beat drops for a second, and I look down, feeling the touch of something at my feet.

Isn’t that a kick in the ass?

Bending for one of the low squats in the chorus, I lift the waiting Isis to my neck, letting her coil around my arms and shoulders. The added weight makes the dance harder, but luckily, I’m not a wilting Southern flower. The group tightens in the middle of the song, and a chair appears out of nowhere. Sitting down, I push and pull at the surrounding girls, laughing as I watch the huge dresses fan around me like giant set pieces when the girls kneel. Seer hops up, jogging over to grab Doyle and Prez for the next part and I groan. This is going to end up on the front page of the fucking paper, for sure.

However, it freed them from Mr. Behle’s clutches and that was the plan, right?

Surprisingly, Doyle steps up quickly, playing his part as he lets me grab his shirt and dance with him during the bridge. He moves fluidly, following along as I lead him around the writhing mass of girls. Prez comes up behind me, holding onto my hips as we move. The other girls break into the crowd, pulling tuxedoed guys into the middle to dance with them, and I wiggle my way to back to let them take my stage.

After all, it’s their ball, and I’ve got the attention of the guys I want.

The song changes to another up beat dance number, and I hold on to Doyle’s neck. I may have started something that can’t be stopped—there’s a line forming by the conductor’s stand. Boys are waving bills at them, presumably to request songs their dates will want to dance to. I may have completely ruined the dance floor for the rest of the night. As my eyes coast over the crowd, I see women of all ages bumping and grinding and having a ball.

Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. All they needed was a little encouragement, and this became about having fun instead of showing off like a bunch of rich assholes.

Wonder what price I’ll pay for that?

* * *

When we finally take a seat at the table ringing the dance floor, I’m beat. Starting a dance mob is hard work—props to people who do this shit for a living. I fan myself with my hand, leaning back on my chair. Isis slithers onto the table, coiling near my arm and I sigh in relief. “Thank you, friend. I need a brief break.”

Wolfie appears with two Manhattans and Prez in tow, grinning broadly. “The line at the bar is insane. Half the people are using—” Teddy narrows his eyes at him and he pauses before continuing. “Using their influence to cut the line and it’s chaos.”

“How did you get our drinks, then?” I ask, grabbing mine as if it’ll disappear if I wait too long.

Doyle appears behind him, smirking as he flips a quarter over his knuckles. “Charm, love. I’m infinitely useful in a crowd.”

“Oh, yes. He’s very charming,” Prez snorts. “He charmed the entire line, so they got out of the way. Lucy could order right away.”

Teddy pinches the bridge of his nose, taking the drink Wolfie hands him. “Fucking hell, Haggerty. Are you trying ?—”

I glare at all of them. “Why are you fighting suddenly?”

Wolfie drops onto my lap, looking delectably mussed from all the strenuous activities. “Sugarplum, you were amazing out there. I know you told us you could dance, but…”

“You can do more than just ‘dance’, Tilly,” Edgar says, egging a finger at me. “You’ve had some sort of training. That’s not the girl from the society balls in high school.”

I shrug, twisting my lips and bobbing my brows. “For me to know, boys.”

Seer pops out of the crowd, tugging Zasha and Julia along behind her. Tharin lumbers along behind him, looking comically cheerful for a guy the size of an orc. “Peanut! Why’d you leave?”

“I’m exhausted, Seer. It was time to cool off.” I pat the seat next to me, sitting with my chin on Wolfie’s shoulder. He beams at her and I laugh softly. I’ve known no one so comfortable being loved on than him.

“Now she’s taking my seat! Make room, Boone. Your lap will have to do,” Doyle complains, sidling up to Teddy while batting his lashes.

Teddy glares at him. “Get fucked, leprechaun.” His lips curve and he jerks his chin at Prez. “You can sit if you like Hamilton.”

I blink, turning to look at him as Wolfie and Seer snort behind their hands. “Did we all get drugged again?”

“I’m being friendly! You said to stop arguing,” Teddy smirks, patting his lap. “You didn’t say who I had to be friendly with.”

“For feck’s sake, Peanut. I have trouble with three; how in the bloody Hades do you put up with four of them?” Seer makes a face at me as Tharin sits in the chair and makes room for her and Zasha. Julia stands by his shoulder, but she gives the two sitting on her enormous consort a fond smile.

Same girl, same.

“I have no idea, Seer. Every day I wake up and wonder if today is the day I become a mass murderer. I mean, like you said…four.” I yell when either Prez or Teddy pinch my ass hard in retaliation.

Before she can respond, Mayor Nelia approaches with Zareb in tow. “If it isn’t the infamous Miss Whitley and her motley crew! I see you’re making waves yet again.”

My cheeks flush bright red as I look at the elegant woman dressed in what must be a bespoke Queen of Wakanda costume. “Yes, ma’am. I felt the party needed a little levity.”

“What does the song say? You said ‘this looks like a job for me’?” Nelia gives me a mischievous grin.

Teddy raises his glass at her. “If chaos is present, either this Irish asshole or our girl are present.”

“Sometimes both,” Doyle chimes in, looking proud. “She’s a brilliant student.”

“Where have you been, Nelia? We missed you when we came in,” Prez asks, looking up at her curiously. “It’s not like you to be tardy.”

Her eyes widen and there’s a slight shake to her hand as she waves him off. “We’re all getting older, Mr. Hamilton. It took me longer to get ready this evening.”

I frown, a weird sensation prickling over my body. She lied; that was a complete falsehood, and it’s making me itch from head to toe. What in the hell? Squirming, I rub my cheek on Wolfie’s shoulder to keep from scratching my face.

“What’s wrong, sugarplum?” he asks, looking down at me in concern.

“I don’t know,” I mutter, wiggling in my chair again as the feeling continues to spread through my limbs. I have no idea why every time I turn around, I have some sort of physical ailment. This town is making me paranoid; I swear.

“Psst.” Teddy crooks his finger at Wolfie, and Prez rolls his eyes as he hops off to switch places with my McDreamy vet.

I wrap my arms around him, smiling up at his handsome face. His glasses worked perfectly with the costume and I haven’t gotten to see him enough today to tell him how adorable he looks. His fingertips brush my jaw, but he watches Teddy whisper in Wolfie’s ear. A frown forms and I tug his face back to me. “Jealous, baby?”

He snorts. “Not even a little. Just curious about what they’re planning, magpie. Boone loves to cause trouble, and Lucy loves to please people. There’s a little praise kink in our boy, you know.”

“Duh,” I mutter, reaching up to tiptoe my fingers over his chest. “I was only making sure. You’re all so… important to me. I don’t want there to be secrets.”

His eyes widen, and his expression is panicked. “Who said anything about secrets?”

Arching a brow, I shrug. His response is unsettling and paired with that weird feeling I’m getting from Nelia as she chats with Doyle. It’s not good. “No one.”

“Good. Because there aren’t any. Secrets, I mean,” he adds hastily.

That doesn’t feel suspicious at all.