Wren grinned at him and turned to leave. Before she could take a single step, Hal reached out and caught her by the hand. She understood the unspoken message in the warm pressure of his fingers, the worry in his eyes. Be careful.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, more tenderly than she’d intended. “I promise.”

Hal let her go.

It took her a few minutes to wade through the masses, but the motion of the crowd eventually swept her into the parlor. Here, muffled by a set of heavy doors, the strains of the music were fainter. Roughly thirty people hugged the edges of the room, elbows planted on cocktail tables, backs turned to the crackling fire in the hearth. At the center of it all, Lowry luxuriated on a velvet lounge as if it were a throne. Barrett and two women she didn’t recognize basked in the twinkling light of the gems on his hands and jacket. Even Wren stilled.

He was laughing. The eye-crinkling, doubled-over kind. Among his friends, he looked almost … happy. Then her gaze landed on the golden key glinting at his throat like an exposed artery. Wren squeezed the vial of chloral hydrate in her palm.

Now or never.

As she approached the group, Lowry looked up and met her gaze. Surprise flickered across his face before he concealed it behind a wide, welcoming smile. It matched his mask: all fangs. Ignoring the prying stares of his other guests, Wren edged herself into the circle. “My apologies for interrupting. You seemed to be having such fun.”

“Oh, we are.” Lowry wiped the heel of his palm across the bottom of each eye, brushing away tears.

“At last, someone to put a barrier between us.” Barrett pulled out a chair beside him. “Join us. Please.”

Wren sat. Two carafes of deep red wine rested on the end of the table, one already drained to the dregs. But what chilled her was the centerpiece. Five skulls arranged in a circle, each of their parietal bones lopped clean off. Red and golden petals, all from deadly varietals, spilled from their empty eye sockets and open craniums.

One skull for each missing soldier—all but one.

Wren raised a hand to her lips to conceal at least half her horror. For so long, she’d yearned to find answers. She’d yearned to find them. Now, she wished she could take it all back. Some horrors were best unknown.

“Looks like she’s seen your new décor, Alistair.” Barrett grimaced. “It’s downright sacrilegious to exhume relatives, if you ask me. Gaudy at best. Honestly, five of them?”

“It’s their debut, so they needed to make a lasting impression. They’re most striking as a collection,” Lowry protested. His eyes sparkled with curious, hungry delight as he watched her expression morph. “Although I’m still missing one.”