Anderson leads us through the living room area into a second room that contains a round wooden table. Ordinarily it must serve as the dining room, but at the moment, the large table is entirely surrounded by at least a dozen guys, each holding a hand of cards. Only one chair sits empty.

A small pile containing watches, cash, cigarettes, and other miscellaneous items sits in the center of the table, so I quickly surmise they must be playing poker. One of the guys glances up as Anderson enters the room, and he grins. His eyes flicker to me, and it widens further.

“Thanks, Anderson,” he calls out loudly. “You just made me two hundred bucks.”

A few groans sound from around the table as more of the guys look up. “Didn’t the rest of you fools know better than to bet against me?” Anderson asks. I can’t tell if the outrage in his voice is fake or real.

The entire group of guys is looking at us now, wearing expressions that range from amusement to worry.

“Seen Dawson yet?” one of them asks.

“Obviously not, or Anderson wouldn’t be walking,” another responds. That draws several laughs from the table. I feel a second flicker of uncertainty.

“What the hell are they talking about?” Katie whispers in my ear.

“No idea,” I reply, mostly truthfully.

Anderson meets my gaze and nods to the right. Philip, Katie, and I follow him into the next room, which turns out to be a large kitchen. This is the least crowded room yet, with only ten people milling about as they grab drinks from the broad assortment of alcohol spread across the kitchen counter. There’s a pool table sitting in the far corner of the room, which a small group of girls are gathered around. Several of them glance over when we enter the kitchen.

Anderson leads us to the fridge. “What do you guys want to drink?” he asks.

“Do you have whiskey?” I question.

“Sure,” Anderson replies, grabbing a familiar glass bottle. He pours a generous amount into a plastic cup and adds a few cubes of ice. “What do you want added? Ginger ale?”

“No, just the whiskey,” I reply.

Anderson looks surprised, but hands me the cup without further comment. I take a long sip of the amber liquid, enjoying the slow burn as the alcohol slides down my throat. Katie stutters out that she’d like a beer, while Philip unsurprisingly opts for water.

We stand next to the kitchen counter as I continue taking sips of my drink, keeping a close eye on my surroundings. There’s no sign of Jace yet, and the anticipation of his arrival is putting me on edge.

I’m distracted by the sound of glass breaking, and look over to see a bowl has been knocked off a side table. Anderson goes over to investigate the mess. Philip walks over as well, dutifully helping him clean up the shards and move the table out of harm’s way.