Had Fletcher concluded that she’d murdered my family?

Had he merely suspected her? Or had he put her name in there for another reason entirely—

“Earth to Gin,” Finn murmured in my ear.

I focused on the here and now once more. “How long have they been standing there talking?”

“Not long,” Finn said. “I’d say you have another five or ten minutes before Mab and the others drift off.”

“All right. Keep an eye on them.”

“What are you going to do?”

I stared out at the glittering mass of people. “Find someplace quiet to take care of Tobias Dawson, once I get my hooks into him.”

———

Finn promised to keep watching Tobias Dawson, and we both hung up. I tucked the cell phone back into the purse Roslyn had given me. It was a tiny thing, but I’d managed to stick one of my silverstone knives inside, along with the compact and tube of healing ointment Jo-Jo Deveraux had provided a few days ago. I didn’t think Dawson would go down easily, and I wanted to have some healing supplies on hand in case the dwarf got a couple of shots in on me before he died. I couldn’t exactly sneak out of Mab Monroe’s party unnoticed if I was bruised and bloody from head to toe.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the giant waiters and headed toward the back of the ballroom. The grand staircase was shaped like a T, and two hallways ran underneath either side of it and connected the ballroom to the other wings of the mansion. I strolled down the left hallway, peering into the rooms I passed. I couldn’t very well kill Tobias Dawson on the ballroom floor, so I needed to find a more secluded spot I could lure the dwarf to before I stabbed him to death.

But the hallway wasn’t as deserted as I’d hoped. I passed several couples standing against the walls or inside the interior rooms, just out of sight of the ballroom. Some talked softly. Others stared into each other’s eyes and sipped champagne. A few necked. But at least one person in every couple wore a heart-and-arrow rune that marked him or her as a hooker from Northern Aggression.

One man wearing the rune necklace grimaced as his vampire paramour sank her fangs deep into his exposed throat. Her eager, sucking sounds reminded me of a kitten mewling. Another man, a dwarf, stood upright, his head tucked up underneath the dress and his face buried in the crotch of a giant woman wearing the rune necklace.

I didn’t have to guess what he was doing with his tongue.