“Should we split up?” Hunter asked.
“Let’s stick together until we get the lay of the land. People don’t go it alone at these functions unless they arrive single. They cling to their dates.”
Hunter arched an eyebrow. “I would’ve thought the opposite, seeing as these people are the rich and famous, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“The rich and famous are just as insecure as everyone else. A lot of them are just better at hiding it.”
We wound through tables filled with guests drinking champagne and talking animatedly to seem like they were having the time of their lives. I cringed. This was too familiar. While parts of Hollywood had attracted me—producing movies, storytelling, and working with creative individuals—I’d gladly left all the fakery behind.
“Dude, that woman laughed so loud she burst my eardrum.” Hunter wiggled his finger in his ear.
“I’m betting she’s a new actress. She’s talking to an up-and-coming L.A. film producer,” I answered while scanning the room for our target.
What kind of demon were we looking for? A wraith? A fenrir? An ifrit? Not a daeva. Their smell would be too obvious, and this crowd would take offense.
“Odette Dane!” A high-pitched, almost shrill voice came from behind me, and I turned to find Amelia Smith, the senator’s wife approaching.
My eyebrows knitted together. She looked different from the last time that I saw her.How long ago was that?I thought it had only been a year, but Amelia’s face reflected almost a decade of aging. She was still a beautiful woman, but the bags beneath her eyes and the deep wrinkles on the sides of her lips were undeniable.
My spine stiffened. Was Amelia the person they had sent us for? Could a demon be inside her, destroying her body from the inside out until she actually rotted?
“Hello, Mrs. Smith. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” We shook hands, and I allowed my power to rise to the surface of my fingertips and do an initial probe for any sensation of magical penetration. There was none that I could discern.
“Yes, it is a pleasure . . . and a surprise. Your parents declined the invitation to come tonight, but made no mention that you would take their place.” Immediately, Amelia’s cheeks pinked as she heard her own tone of voice. “Not that I mind. I’m sorry if I sound a little off-kilter. I’ve been so incredibly tired lately, and Stephen decided to have this gala just two weeks ago, which didn’t help at all.” Her blue eyes traveled across the room.
I followed her gaze and caught sight of the senator, looking as young and jovial as ever, shaking hands and making connections.
“I’m Hunter Wardwell,” Hunter said, extending his hand.
Amelia let out a startled gasp. “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. Like I said, I’ve been so tired, I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Why don’t you rest over there?” I pointed to a bench at the edge of the room near the water station. “I can do the rounds and make sure people are entertained for a bit. If you need anything, just wave.”
The excuse was as good as any to do a bit of snooping. This way I could play at host and get a better read on the people in the room.
“Oh . . . thank you, dear. That would actually be a great help. I wouldn’t mind a sit-down, and I trust you to do a good job. Your mother is an excellent hostess, and you know how tedious entertaining can be.”
I nodded. “I insist. Hunter, see to it she gets a bit of food, too, will you?” I locked eyes with him, and his eyebrows furrowed.“Change of plans,”I mouthed the minute Amelia turned her back.
Hunter’s eyes widened, but he nodded, fine to go with the flow, and escorted Amelia to the edge of the room.
My toes tapped beneath the folds of my red, silk dress. Thirty minutes had already passed, and I’d found nothing. I was trying to deduce how to get out of yet another mind-numbering conversation about Hollywood politics, when I felt it.
Magic caressing my back.
I stiffened, determined to pinpoint which direction it had come from.
“Uh oh, Odette are you okay?” the starlet who had been fawning over me placed her hand on my shoulder in mock concern.
I’d met her many times before, and she always acted as if we are best friends. Which we obviously weren’t, as she was going on thirty and I was only eighteen, but she had ulterior motives. Being the lead in one of my parents’ films would make befriending an eighteen-year-old seem worth it.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Are you sure? You look a little green.” The starlet’s doe-like eyes ran over my face. “Did you overdo it on the champagne?”
I glanced down at my glass of sparkling water served in a champagne flute. “No, this is actually—”
“Because I know sometimes that stuff can turn my stomach,” the starlet added.
