I stepped into the swirling crowd, letting the sea of tuxedos and shimmering gowns sweep me along from one clique to the next. A set of glass doors on the left side of the ballroom led out to a terrace. A massive orchestra had been erected on the right side in front of another set of glass doors. I plastered a smile on my face and strolled through the ballroom, flitting from one knot of people to the next, until I reached a quieter space along the underside of the staircase beside a potted bonsai tree with gnarled limbs.

I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and called Finn. He picked up on the third ring.

“I’m here,” I said. “Where are you?”

“I see you, Gin. You look smashing, even for a faux hooker.”

“Finn,” I growled.

“To answer your question, I’m on the second floor, leaning over the railing and surveying the majesty laid out before me.”

My eyes flicked up. Sure enough, Finn was exactly where he said he was. Leaning against the marble banister, Scotch in one hand, cell phone in the other. Roslyn Phillips stood beside him, wearing a strapless white evening gown that made her look like a Greek goddess. Mab Monroe had invited the hooker to the party so Roslyn could keep an eye on her guys and girls and make sure they were properly servicing the more important guests. And, as part of our plan, Roslyn had brought Finn along as her date for the evening. Nothing unusual about it, since the two of them were often seen together out on the town.

The grand staircase marched up to the second floor, forming a wide landing, before splitting in two and winding up either side to the upper floors of the mansion.

Finn had chosen well. His position gave him a view of the entire ballroom below.

“Let’s get started,” I said. “Before someone decides to proposition me. Where’s Dawson?”

“He’s in the center of the ballroom, about a couple hundred feet behind you on the right. Although I wouldn’t suggest approaching him now, given his current company.”

“Current company? What does that mean?”

“You’ll see. Just keep looking in that direction. Dawson’s easy to find. He’s the only one wearing a cowboy hat tonight.”

I peered through the crowd. It took me several seconds to spot Dawson, and Finn was right. He was the only cowboy in attendance. In addition to the giant hat on his head, the dwarf also wore snakeskin boots and another lariat tie topped with turquoise. All of which looked ridiculous with his tuxedo. But Tobias Dawson’s fashion sense wasn’t what made me frown, then curse. It was the company he was keeping.

Mab Monroe, Jonah McAllister, and Elliot Slater.

26

26

“Fuck,” I said.