“That’s one dangerous dessert.” She eyes me meaningfully.

I groan. “You have no idea.” There’s no room for denial in a moment like this. I raise my arms out to my sides, languidly spinning around again. “I’m already so goooone….”

She laughs. “Well, I would not advise distracting yourself with His Highness Raphael VanJerkface, no matter how hot he is. I saw that eyeball moment on the train.” She looks at me knowingly. “And it definitely seemed consensual.”

“That’s probably even more dangerous.” I sigh, dropping my arms.

She laughs again. “You’re right about that.” She reaches for my hand and forces me to keep twirling. “But who needs guys anyway. Dance with meee!” She swings me around, hyper and elated, and we’re soon both lost in the music and the meditative beauty of the infinite.

Time passes in a blur. Eventually fatigue and thirst bring me back to reality.

Not long ago, Georgie danced away with a tall girl in a fox mask doing a ridiculously adorable Lindy Hop.

I head toward the bar in search of water and see Rafe making out with a different blond than the one he came with, no real surprise there. She starts to kiss down his neck and his gaze flicks up, meeting mine. He winks, then turns his face to kiss a boy pressed to his other side. The sensuality radiating from the three of them makes me blush and abandon my quest for a drink in my haste to get away.

I’m pulled back into the dancing milieu. A harp and flute ensemble is playing, and I twirl in time with the music, contributing to the spectacle by trailing small ribbons of sparks from my fingertips like Hypatia taught me.

I stop when two striking boys approach me. One I recognize as a beautiful member of Rafe’s entourage who is in my Sire lab and who I have avoided ever since he gave Georgie the stink eye in the hover park. The second boy—who is wearing a lion mask—has harsh features and is extremely tall; the top of my head doesn’t even reach his shoulders.

“Nice trick,” the tall boy says to me. “You’re a pretty thing to be dancing alone.” His accent sounds like a combination of British and French.

The beautiful boy from Genesis has an amber guildstone in his ear, but the tall boy wears no earrings. Instead, he wears a ruby ring on his hand, along with a bone ring. Blood Science and Avant Guard.

“We can keep you company,” the beautiful one says. I don’t like his mocking voice, and I don’t like the appetite in his expression. Maybe I would rather be alone.

“Thanks,” I say, “but I’m actually waiting for someone.”