Considering what happened the last time he’d been at one of these parties, he should’ve been more hesitant to volunteer. But Derek knew Sam well enough to trust her instincts. If she thought something was off about her mother, he was more than willing to check it out.

Even if checking it out meant going to a solstice party. The same party where he’d been drugged by Heather. Also the same party where Claudia had kidnapped him before trying to murder him.

But, hey, he’d also gotten to punch Jackson in the face and have sex with Sam for the first time, so it wasn’t a total loss.

It was dark by the time he pulled the Crown Vic to a stop in front of Abigail’s Connecticut mansion. Just like the last time, the flashing lights inside signaled that a party was well underway before he even heard the pounding vibrations of the bass. Whatever music they were listening to was drum heavy. The lyrics probably didn’t matter as long as the witches could gyrate against one another.

He glanced over to Sam to see her eyeing the house warily, almost as though it were a living entity they were about to face together.

“We’re not going to do anything crazy,” he said, trying to ease her fears as well as his own. “We’re going to look for any signs of foul play or threats to the people inside the house. If it’s all clear, we’ll leave. We’re not going to threaten Abigail. We’re not going to go after anyone. This is just precautionary before backup gets here.”

Her brow furrowed and she glanced at him. “Backup? Aren’t we the backup?”

“Claudia is backup.” And she was off doing who knew what.

“Should we call Angela?”

Derek had already thought about that and decided against it. “We’ll give her tonight off. I’m not sure how much she could do here anyway.”

“Unlike all you can do?”

Derek pushed open the door. “You’d be surprised what tricks I have up my sleeve.” He stepped into the night. It had been a warm day, but a chill had set in under the cover of darkness. And because it was getting close to a new moon, there was almost no illumination except for the lights in the windows. He remembered there being lights along the driveway the last time he was here. Considering it was damn unlikely that all the lights had burned out at the same time, they must’ve purposely not been turned on. One more ominous sign.

He was still in his work clothes which consisted of a suit with a shoulder holster under the jacket. He didn’t want to go in unarmed, so he had to keep his jacket on, which would have him stand out even more.

Sam was in some leggings that fit her like a second skin. He liked to think that he was pretty single-minded when it came to work, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling to her ass whenever she walked in front of him. He wasn’t all that proud of it, but considering she was by far the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on, he couldn’t say he regretted it either. Fighting his attraction to Sam was just his new state of being now.

But not all the time, because after this was over, they were going back to his place together. They hadn’t talked about it. It was just known. A fact. They would go home together and then he could indulge his attraction as much as he wanted. In as many positions as he wanted.

If that thought didn’t make life worth living, he didn’t know what did.

She wore combat boots and a black loose shirt with a shiny silver skull on the front. No one who knew him would think she was his type, but in the short time they’d been together, he’d come to realize that Sam was the perfect type for him. The only type.

Now all they had to do was survive her family and they could actually enjoy their time together.

He didn’t like that she led the way in, but this was her home ground, literally, so he stayed back.

She pushed the door open and he followed her inside. The loud music enveloped them immediately and Sam glanced around.

“Looking for something?” he said loud enough for her to hear.

“Garrett,” she said. “He normally greets people at the door.”

A few people were in the entryway, but no one who gave them more than two seconds thought: A couple who was about sixty seconds and one layer of clothing away from penetration. An obviously inebriated group of girls who were giggling loudly and leaning on each other so they wouldn’t fall.

Derek knew alcohol and pot didn’t affect witches, so he had to wonder what exactly they’d gotten their hands on....

Sam took his hand in hers and led him down the hallway and into the big ballroom. It was hot and humid, but the hundred or so people there didn’t seem to care. Sam kept to the border of the room until they found a reasonably secluded spot to stop and look out at the crowd. Derek didn’t recognize anyone, but that wasn’t surprising considering how few witches he knew. Though he would pay money to see Bastian get inebriated....

“I don’t see Mom.” Sam kept looking out over the floor. Then she saw something that must’ve freaked her out because her eyes widened and she slid closer to Derek.

“What did you see?”

She pointed to a pretty woman on the dance floor who seemed to be in her early twenties. Though ages were almost impossible to guess in witches. “That’s Susan Collins. Tommy’s sister,” she said.

Darkness or not, he was going to bet that Susan wouldn’t be happy to see the woman who’d shot her brother. “But everything looks okay so far?”

Sam gave the room one more look. “Yeah. No symbols on the wall. No visible bombs. It doesn’t mean everything is okay, but I don’t know what we can do here.”

Derek nodded as he pulled her to the closest door and they ended up in the hallway. The music was still loud but not as nauseating.

“What are you doing?” asked Sam.

“We can’t see much in there, especially when there are possibly drunk witches who could want you dead. Maybe it’s best to stick to the outside.”

He intertwined his fingers with hers and she squeezed his hand. Did this count as a date? He was going to figure no....

“Samantha!” said the voice he’d kind of been hoping they wouldn’t hear. He turned around and Sam’s hand fell from his as they saw Abigail at the other end of the hall. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.” She moved toward them and Derek suddenly understood what Sam had been talking about.

But they were wrong. Abigail wasn’t infected like Sam had been. Sam had barely been able to walk straight, but Abigail approached them as though she were gliding along the floor. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly wasn’t right, but it was also distinctly off. She wore a long black dress with sleeves that reached her wrists, but the plunging neckline and slit that went all the way up to her hip kept it from being anywhere close to decent.

Derek instinctively moved between Sam and her mother. “We were just stopping by.” He looked for any negative reaction from Abigail. Sam’s mother hadn’t been his biggest fan, but he’d always gotten the feeling she liked him more than Claudia did. But he wasn’t about to take his chances right now.

“You should stay. Things are just starting to heat up.” She winked at Derek, which made him a whole other level of uncomfortable. She took another step toward them and Derek backed up until his back pushed against Sam’s front. Except he should’ve known that Sam wasn’t the type to hide behind him; she stepped out to his side while Abigail considered them.

“Mom, we’re not here to party. We’re here because we’re worried about you and wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.”

For a second, Abigail was unnaturally still and Derek started to wonder whether his mind was playing tricks on him. She then let out a deep sigh and set a hand on her hip. “I’m still getting the hang of this. What gave me away?” She pointed to her hair. “Is it the color? Damn it, I knew I went too platinum.”

Derek’s hand rested on the butt of his gun. “I think it’s time for us to go.”

“You,” Abigail pointed at him, “can do whatever you want. I need a moment alone with her.”

“Not gonna happen.” Sam’s shoulder pressed against his arm as she leaned in closer. At least she had some instincts for self-preservation. But if Abigail made a move at them, would Sam be able to help him fight? This was her mother, after all, and Sam had already lost a family member to this craziness. If it came to fighting her mother, he might not be able to rely on magic.

“I’m not like Claudia.” The name dripped with disdain as it came from Abigail’s mouth. “I’m not here to give you the illusion of choice. I’m here now and things are going to be different. No more hiding. No more sneaking. Things are going to change around here and they’re going to change right now.”

Before he could even start to unravel that, he heard Sam gasp. He twisted around to see Garrett, the big blond head of security who he’d always liked well enough, grab onto Sam’s biceps and pull her back. Sam immediately threw her head back, soundly connecting with his chin, and started to kick at him, but the giant didn’t budge. Judging from the blank look in his eyes, this wasn’t the Garrett he’d met before.

He started to pull out his sidearm, but an invisible wall of energy slammed into him and sent him flying across the hall and into the wall, knocking the portrait next to him down as he fell.

But he couldn’t nurse his wounds, because he heard Sam struggling as Garrett held her in place and Abigail approached slowly. So slowly. It was as though she had no concerns in the world. As if she wasn’t afraid of them at all.

Derek couldn’t let himself be intimidated or scared. He needed to act fast before his entire world disintegrated in front of his face. He pulled out his gun and took the shot as soon as he had it. This time there was no Claudia controlling his trigger finger. He’d aimed right for the back of Abigail’s head, making sure the angle was high enough that any exit trajectory would avoid Sam or the ballroom.

The bullet hit its mark and Abigail came to an abrupt stop. But she didn’t fall. Instead, she pivoted on her heel and looked him right in the eye as the large exit wound at the top right side of her head started to close in on itself.

“Detective Pierce,” she said softly. “The rules have changed. This is my game now.”

Sam stared at her mother in abject horror. It didn’t take long for Abigail to lose interest in him and turn back to her daughter. As she turned, she seemed to transform, but this time the symptoms were recognizable. Her hair turned to an inky black and her nails got longer, dripping the oozing black substance. And when she brought those dripping black nails to Sam, Derek let out a deep, guttural scream as he ran for the group. He didn’t aim for Abigail or Garrett. He took them all down in one fierce tackle. Better than any tackle he’d ever done in his high school football career.

He might not be able to shoot Abigail, but he could distract her, damn it. The four of them fell to the ground in a giant heap. Derek didn’t give Garrett a moment to recover from the shock. He rammed his fist into the man’s face. The blow was hard enough to send vibrations of pain rocketing up his arm, and it did seem to daze Garrett, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.

Not helping matters was Abigail’s bark of laughter from behind him. “You stupid, stupid man. Let it go. You’re not going to be able to win this.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his last resort. “Strategic retreat then.” He aimed the little canister at Abigail and sprayed it at her face.

Her casual laughter quickly deteriorated as she started to scream in pain. He didn’t let go of the little button as the spray kept going. He wanted her to hurt. He wanted her to stay the hell away from Sam. Wanted her to pay....

The crashing behind him finally had him snap out of it. He turned to see Garrett falling to the ground and Sam pulling at his arm, urging him to run.

He pushed up and they ran into the ballroom as Abigail still squealed in pain.

Sam tugged on his jacket as they fell into the ballroom, the music and the heat warring with the adrenaline that pumped through him. She pointed to the door closest to the entryway and they ran for it, pushing past the tipsy and out-of-it witches on the dance floor. No one seemed to notice they were running for their lives. No one seemed to care about anything outside of themselves.

They were just a few feet from the exit when the door slammed shut in front of them. They were running so fast, the momentum carried them right into the solid wood. He and Sam both tried the handle, but it wouldn’t move.

“Magic,” said Sam over the loud music as they turned around to look for Abigail or Garrett. But there was no one behind them. They weren’t being chased. They were trapped, though, which meant something was going to happen.

“We need to get out of here now.” He didn’t know what Abigail had planned, but considering her newfound confidence and apparent immunity to bullets, he wasn’t looking forward to finding out.

Sam’s eyes bounced around the room; a second later, he could practically see the light bulb go off. “We need to go up.” She ran to the closest corner. She pointed to a table and they each started to slide it to the wall. Sam immediately climbed on top and stood in front of the air vent.

“You’re kidding,” he said under his breath as she held a hand over the grate until the screws came undone. Her magic seemed under control. He had a feeling he should be happy about that, but it was just one more thing leading to his unease.

As soon as the grate was off, she stepped aside and pointed to the vent that barely looked big enough for her, let alone him. “Go on,” she said.

“You first.” He could already tell she was about to give him pushback, so he stepped in close and bent in until their foreheads almost touched. “You first or I don’t go at all,” he warned, not willing to waste time arguing about this.

She must’ve believed him because she started to climb up. He went to give her a boost up, but she was able to get enough leverage between her foot on the wall and the grip on the vent that she made it inside in no time.

As soon as she was in, he started up. She was stopped a few feet inside the vent and looked behind at him. It was a tight fit, but he did in fact make it through. His holster caught on the metal side of the vent, so he took the gun out, and after taking out the clip so he didn’t accidentally shoot Sam or himself, he started to follow her. The vent was dirty and damn near suffocating, but he’d rather be here than dealing with Abigail right now. Luckily, they only crawled for about twenty feet before Sam used her magic to slam at another vent, giving them an escape.

Considering they were going out head first, he didn’t see exactly how Sam managed to get out without falling on her head, but she was there and standing when it was his turn. He had a feeling that if she weren’t there, he would’ve ended up with a concussion. The room they were in was a bedroom, but it didn’t look used. Probably one of the many spares in the compound.

“Who the hell has vents like that?” He took in a deep breath of non-dust-filled air.

“It’s an oxygen suppression system.” Sam brushed the dust off herself. “Comes in handy when fires are a possibility.”

Oh yeah. Considering Sam had burnt down the last family home, that probably would be useful.

“Why wasn’t she coming after us?” Sam moved to the window to look out at the front yard, probably checking to see whether the coast was clear.

Derek balled his hands into fists and blinked a few times. The pepper spray was still burning, but he tried to push it to the back of his mind. No time to rinse out his eyes right now.

He didn’t tell her what he was thinking about that room being a trap. They’d originally come here to stop the partygoers from being in danger, but right now.... He didn’t think there was anything they could do. They’d barely made it out of there alive, and not one person seemed to notice their quick exit. He hated to admit it, but they might need Claudia to get this taken care of.

“We need to go,” he said without telling Sam his fears. He went to the window and started to open it when the screams started. He froze. Everything in him wanted to go help, but a part of him, a deep part he so rarely let surface, held him back.

It wasn’t him logically going through the possibilities and deciding that he couldn’t make it in time or call up the manpower to deal with Abigail.

It was fear. The dark fear faced when he was a rookie cop. The fear whenever he would check the mail after his brother went missing in action. The fear he felt when he’d brought an unconscious Sam to her grandmother and begged for help.

“Let’s go.” He got the window open. But when he turned to Sam, she was already slipping out the door.

He cursed under his breath as he followed her, but she hadn’t gone far. She leaned against one of the closed doors that led to the ballroom, looking through the crack where the screams were coming from.

He came up behind her and she crouched lower so he could take the space higher up on the door to look into the ballroom. The music had stopped and the screams died down to a few shudders.

And to add to the strangeness of it all, the sprinklers were on in the ballroom. He supposed that if there was an oxygen suppression system to stop fires, it made sense there would be sprinklers as well. Some of the people on the ground had their arms over their head as though shielding themselves from the water, but he couldn’t see any obvious burns or anything coming from the water. So what were they shielding themselves from?

The door in the back opened and Abigail and Garrett walked into the room, neither seeming concerned as they were drenched in the downpour. Then, one by one, the guests started to stand. They didn’t seem scared or confused. They stood and went utterly still, looking straight ahead with blank expressions. Expressions just like Garrett’s.

Derek reached down to Sam’s shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. There was nothing more for them to see here.

She gave some resistance, but he was able to pull her away from the door as they ran for the main exit. There wasn’t a single person between them and the Crown Vic. Derek tossed Sam the keys and let her take the wheel. For one, she knew the area better than him. Secondly, his eyes were still burning.

He knew that what happened had been confusing for him. But this was personal for Sam. Her mother wasn’t her mother. Her friends were all possessed by something that was supposed to be dead and gone.

And as of right now, they were on their own. So until they got back to his place, he needed her mind in as safe a place as possible.

She was one of the strongest people he’d ever met, but there was only so much a person could take before they cracked.