When I reached the hallway, Az was nowhere to be seen. I huffed and strode forward, my boots clicking against the floor. A few partygoers stumbled past me. Some wore horns. Others had fur sprouting on their cheeks. Every single time they caught a glance of my face, they stared.

Were they staring because they knew I was the girlfriend of a Prince of Hell? Or did it have something to do with my humanity? Serena had warned me about this world. Some of these supernaturals were dangerous, but which ones?

I didn’t want to wait around and find out.

When I reached the end of the hall, I strode out onto the rooftop. All the tables and sofas were packed. Frowning, I scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar head of dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Where would Az have gone? He didn’t mention leaving the party, but I couldn’t spot him anywhere.

Surely he hadn’t just left me here. Right?

It certainly seemed like he had.

My heart pounded. Asmodeus, the Prince of Hell, had left me at a supernatural party alone. And if I ran now, I’d lose my soul. Fuck!

I took in several deep breaths, hoping no one noticed my panic. This would be fine. It was totally okay. No. Big. Deal. All I had to do was find Serena. I’d stick by her side until Az showed up, and she wouldn’t let a hungry vampire drain my blood.

A scream ripped through the party. My entire body tensed as the bar fell into brutal silence. Another scream followed, and the distant pounding of rushing footsteps sounded like war drums in the night. My heart cantered, and then galloped right out of my chest. What the hell was happening now?

Several of the rooftop partiers jumped to their feet. They glanced around, as if searching for someone. One of the men, an older guy with salt and pepper hair, strode into the center of the patio and addressed the crowd.

“Everyone just needs to remain calm. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for—”

Serena rushed onto the rooftop like a tornado. Her gaze latched onto mine, and she visibly sighed. “Thank god. You’re okay.”

“What’s going on, Serena?” I asked, keenly aware of the silence. Everyone was watching us.

“There’s been another murder.” Her voice shook with raw emotion. “A werewolf. A girl who dances at Az’s club.”

“What?” My blood rushed from my face and formed a lump of coal in my gut. “Who? What was her name?”

“Willow.”

Fevered whispers rippled through the crowd on the roof. Someone sobbed. My heart squeezed tight as I remembered the girl. We’d barely had a chance to speak last night, but she’d been kind and welcoming, vibrant and alive. Now, she was dead.

My hands fisted. “Who is doing this?”