The music switched off as a song ended, and the DJ didn’t seem sure he should load up another track. Most of the kids on the dance floor were staring at the crowd around the Mazikin.

Malachi looked over at me. “That was too easy.”

“I know.” We stood close as we watched the two Mazikin, who were now handcuffed but conscious, each with an overweight security guard sitting on his back. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of emerald silk—Laney. I turned my head to see her standing next to Ian. She glared at me while he glared at Malachi. I cleared my throat and stepped away from my Lieutenant.

Greg turned to Ian. “Hey, your majesty,” he called. “How do you feel about cutting out for the after-party early?”

“Fine with me.” Ian put his arm around Laney’s shoulders and spoke too softly to her for me to hear what he was saying. She nodded, directing her gaze at the floor. Somewhere along the line, I had missed something. Malachi had said Ian was comforting Laney—had they broken up? I shut my eyes and gave myself a hard mental shake, stomping down any stupid hope trying to take root in my brain.

The failed Mazikin attack had killed the party mood, and everyone trailed out to their cars, some of them stopping to give police their names to follow up with statements. I eagerly sidestepped them, leaving them to cart away our attackers and keep them off the streets for at least one night. My mind was focused on where the next attack would be coming from.

Our crew climbed into the stretch SUV to head to the after-party at an all-ages club in Providence. Malachi, Jim, and I had already checked it out, in case the Mazikin decided that would be a better place to attack. I scooted onto the leather seat of the vehicle, making sure my skirt didn’t ride up and reveal the weaponry strapped to my thighs.

Ian gave me a sad smile and took a seat across from me, next to Tegan and Jim, who seemed only aware of each other. Levi was in a fabulous mood, and I couldn’t blame him; Jillian was looking at him like he was some kind of superhero. They were like the opposite of Laney and Malachi, who sat several inches from each other, stone-faced. Greg and Alexis seemed to have gotten into some kind of tiff as well; she had her back to him while Greg kept glancing at his watch, like this was the last place he wanted to be. I sympathized. Then my purse started to vibrate. I pulled my buzzing phone from my clutch.

“I’ve been trying to call,” Raphael said when I picked up.

“Sorry. We had an incident at prom.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“No, it’s fine. How is he?”