There were two other bartenders, but we strode over to Leslie’s third of the bar. Thankfully, fewer people crowded her side, so we weren’t crushed by people or at risk of being overheard.
Leslie finished serving a man, and hustled over to us. “What are you two doing here?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Rita invited us to the party. I take it that’s uncommon?”
Leslie bit her lip. “Less so than you’d think. I just didn’t know that they’d invited any outsiders tonight. This party was supposed to be . . .”
I leaned over the bartop. “Pack-only?”
She sucked in a breath. “How did you know?”
“We’re witches,” Phoebe said, looking shocked that Leslie couldn’t figure it out. I suspected that it had something to do with her being such a weak shifter.
“Ohhhh.” Leslie seemed to grow more tense. “That explains things.”
A guest called to her from down the bar, and she assured him she’d be right there. “Do you girls want anything? Ricardo will only take drinks from me. And he gets stupid pushy if I’m not quick.” She rolled her eyes.
We both ordered champagne, and Leslie poured the drinks.
When she handed them over, she held the glass for a second too long and leaned closer. “Be careful tonight,” she whispered and then rushed off to help Ricardo.
“That was . . . odd,” Phoebe said.
I nodded. “Something is totally up around here. It’s time we give ourselves a tour.”
We moved to the side of the room and slipped down a hallway where a few people mingled. Phoebe asked where the restroom was to deflect attention. Luckily, it was almost all the way down the passage, so we got to peer inside room after room as we went.
Most were empty, although people were engaged in quieter conversations in a few spaces. One room looked to be the home base of the old-boys club, with bountiful cigar smoke pluming in the air and whiskey in every glass. We were nearly to the bathroom when a slight shift in energy raised the hairs on my arms. And then, to my astonishment, my demon-touched scar began to burn.
My blood ran cold, and I stopped suddenly. “Did you feel that?”
Phoebe nodded. “The strange vibration? It’s further down the hall, I think.”
“Yup.”
Darting a glance backward, I caught sight of a group of shifters at the end of the corridor staring at us. I beamed at them, and for good measure, leaned into Phoebe, locking arms with her sloppily.
The shifters must have thought I couldn’t hold my drink, because they grinned and turned back around.
Suspicion averted, at least for now.“We should hurry, before others notice that we’re nosing around—particularly Rita or her husband.”
We walked further down the hall. Aware that people were probably still watching, I added a few stumbles and exaggerated sways to my gait.
None of the doors this far down were open, which had my witchy-senses pinging. Most of the vibrations were coming from the right side of the hall, and everything inside me screamed that we needed to open the last door. Something down there was putting off the wrong energies. I suspected that wasn’t a coincidence. Rita had put it far away from the ballroom for a reason. But it would look too suspicious if we just went for it.
We needed to warp inside that room and discover what it was.
I loosened my grip on Phoebe and swayed to the side. “Oopsie!” I cried as my shoulder slammed into the closest door. I expertly twisted the handle as if to save myself, and for effect, I sloshed half the champagne out of my flute. “Dang! This stuff isstrong!”
Phoebe’s eyes darted to the end of the hall. “You’re such a lightweight!” she scolded loudly for the benefit of those watching.
“Need another drink?” someone called.
I giggled and held up my nearly empty glass. “She won’t let me.” Then darting a glance into the room I’d opened, I gestured inside. “We found the library. I think I need to sit down until the spins stop.”
The shifters nodded, and Phoebe and I shut the library door behind us.
She bit her lip. “They’re watching us like hawks.”
