Monique sighed. “I don’t know what he said to get your panties in such a twist, but he told me to tell you he’d talk to you later.”
I drew in a shuddering breath. “He didn’t twist my panties. He twisted my heart. And I don’t know why you’re bothering. I know how much you hate me.”
“I’m bothering because he asked me to.” She frowned and glanced casually around the room. “I don’t hate you exactly, although you are excessively annoying.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I return the sentiment.”
Monique twirled a ring on her finger. “I won’t lose any sleep over your feelings for me.” She straightened and looked back around the room. “Where’s that friend of yours?”
I glanced at my watch—almost ten minutes had passed. “She’s probably being sick. I’ll check on her.”
Monique’s brow furrowed. “No.” She stood up abruptly. “Wait here, I’ll check.”
The crowd parted as she walked through. I should go now; I could dash out of the front door and be gone before she came back.
I stood; the room was a little fuzzy, and the lights seemed to sway. I didn’t drink that much, but it had gone straight to my head. I glanced at the hallway Monique went down. Standing at the entrance was a dark-haired witch. Now that I knew about them, they radiated an energy I could feel, and sometimes if I concentrated, I could see their auras, which were white, or gold, or purple mostly. Her arm was covered with tattoos—flowers and outlines my vision couldn’t make out. She caught my eye, nodded in my direction, and turned back to talk to the group she was with.
I needed to go now. I turned to leave. A girl with long straight dark hair blocked my path.
“Having a good night?” she asked. Her eyes were off kilter.
“Yes, you?” I shuffled left to get around her.
“I’m about to,” she answered, smiling.
Something uncomfortable stirred in the back of my mind, something about the way she spoke and grinned. Then I realized the girl was higher than a giraffe’s balls. She pivoted and walked away. Behind her disappearing form, Monique was scanning the room.
My stomach dropped. My chance was gone. And where was Georgie?
I grabbed my jacket and her bag, slung it over my shoulder, and walked through the room looking for her. I stood up on my tiptoes, seeking a glimpse of her long dark hair. My eyes met Monique’s. She looked annoyed. She had to be here. I hadn’t felt any threats. I would feel them, that was my gift. With Monique’s bat hearing, she would have heard something.
And yet for some reason, my heart began to thump in my chest.
Fuck, where was she?
“I lost her scent in the hallway,” Monique said, still scanning the crowd.
“Did she even go to the ladies?”
“Yes.”
“Have you checked the men’s?” I asked.
“No, would she?”
I shrugged. “She’s pretty drunk, she might have gone in there by accident.”
Monique sighed and threaded through the crowd toward the men’s. I went to follow her, but if she was in there Monique would bring her back. If she wasn’t, it was better to continue searching the room. I wound through the tightly knit crowd, searching every nook and cranny. Nothing.
Monique appeared and shook her head.
I turned, searching for Georgie amongst a sea of bodies, trying to catch a snippet of her. And that’s when I spotted the blue of her blouse, raucous laughter all around her.
I found her.
I darted toward her, called out her name, and snagged her arm. Georgie twisted back; she stared at me blankly.
It wasn’t Georgie.
