“I guess he moves the party around every year. He said he can’t stay in one place for long without people getting suspicious.” Then the sadness in Ziggy’s words made me realize he wasn’t referring to the teenagers below us. “Nathan does miss you. He loves you.”

“Yeah, well. I guess we’ll find out tonight, huh?” With a grimace, he shoved off the banister and headed toward the hallway.

I wanted to follow him, to go into my room, lock the door and sleep wherever I fell. I’d spent the day with a pillow over my head, trying to drown out the sound of Cyrus cursing and shouting in his room as he agonized over every new development, from parking to table decorations, until I was as stressed about the party as he was.

If he thought things were going badly now, I couldn’t wait to see how he reacted when his uninvited guests showed up.

There was no telling how events would turn out. In just a few hours I could be safely away from this house and all the temptation inside. Or I could be dead. Ziggy could be dead. Cyrus could be dead. Hell, we could all be dead at the same time from some freak accident. I wasn’t ruling anything out.

To get my mind off such grim meditations, and because guests had begun to arrive, I went to my room to dress in the new gown Cyrus had bought me for the occasion. When Clarence had delivered the garment, all my bad feelings about the night had multiplied. It was a floor-length, red-and-black ball gown with thin shoulder straps and a tiered tulle skirt. I’d quickly zipped up the garment bag and assured myself it wasn’t so bad.

I was wrong. In fact, it was much worse on second observation.

“I’m going to look like a ballerina from hell,” I whined out loud as I picked at the sequined bodice.

Not to mention the fact that running—hell, even standing—in the shoes he’d bought to match would be impossible, at best.

I pulled the offending footwear from the box with a frown. I slipped the patent leather pointe slippers onto my feet and wrapped the deep red ribbons around my calves. They would have been comfortable if it weren’t for the tall spiked heel that ensured I stood on perfect tiptoe.

I teetered into the sitting room where Ziggy stood like a real gentleman, an expression of pure disbelief on his face. “You look really good.”

“Thanks.” I touched my hair self-consciously, checking to make sure the long, blond strands remained in the French braid I’d put them in. “I feel like a clown.”

“You look like a Goth boy’s wet dream. Hell, I’d go straight if you made an offer right now.”

For a moment, his wicked smile reminded me so much of Nathan it seemed impossible they weren’t blood related. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And I’ll pass.”

There was a soft knock at the door. I called out permission to enter, expecting Clarence.