“Does this mean Brandi is still alive too?” I asked, feeling a surge of hope that my mom’s friend—Dru’s real mother—had also somehow escaped Bill Hollis alive.

Her brow crinkled. “I don’t know anything about anyone named Brandi. Was she one of Vanessa’s?”

“Never mind.” I’d never checked the news to see if Bill Hollis had been bluffing about burning Brandi’s trailer down, but if he’d lied about killing Blue and Ruby, he could have lied about pretty much anything. Maybe it was time for me to do some looking around to see if I could find her.

Or maybe it’s time for you to let her live her own fucking life, Nikki. Since you’re toxic as hell.

“So what are you doing here?” Blue yelled. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of place at all.”

“It’s not,” I said. I gestured around me. “Too many people. I’m looking for Luna.”

Her eyes widened. “Fairchild?” She shook her head. “I haven’t seen her, and I’ve been here every night for months. I thought she was locked up.”

“Got out a few months ago,” I said. “She’s disappeared. And you know as well as I do, Luna doesn’t stay disappeared for long.”

Blue shrugged. “Maybe this time she will. She doesn’t really have anything to come home to, does she?”

Only me, I thought. Only me and my buddy, Revenge.

“I saw her friend, though. I was trying to get to her when you grabbed me.”

Blue turned and we scanned the crowd, both of us pulling up onto our tiptoes. “What does she look like? Do you see her now?”

“She was on a couch.” The music changed to something less frantic, and the lights settled down. The waitresses took advantage of the lull and were hurrying back and forth over the dance floor, holding drinks and tapas and trays with hookah supplies on them.

Blue grabbed my hand again and we pushed through the thinning crowd, but when we popped out next to the couch, the boy was still there, but Shelby was gone.

“Hey, where’s that girl you were with?” Blue asked, tapping the guy’s leg with her knee. He turned his eyes slowly toward us, and it was easy to see that he was completely stoned. I guessed Vee was right; igNight was full of potheads who wanted to dance and smoke.

“Left,” he said. He cleared his throat and said it again, louder. “She left.”

“Left, like, gone?” I asked, pointing toward the door.

He nodded, then leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

“Thanks, you were a ton of help,” I said sarcastically. “Come on, let’s go after her.”