I stared at the stranger in the mirror, the vixen of a woman dressed in a short black leather dress. I’d curled my blonde hair and applied heavy amounts of eyeliner and mascara. Apparently, where we were going tonight, I needed to dress a bit Goth to blend in. Of course Balthazar had been sparse with the details, but I gathered it was to a mansion owned by cultists.

Cultists with a predilection for debauched parties.

I pulled up the top of my strapless dress, feeling completely exposed. Could I really go out in this? Tonight I’d be tapping into a deep recess of my personality; a recess I wasn’t even sure I had. I was playing a part, and I couldn’t allow myself to slip up. I crossed into the hallway, my heels clacking over the floor.

Balthazar waited for me at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a charcoal gray suit. His fists clenched tightly at the sight of me, as if he were restraining himself from unleashing some carnal impulse. For just a moment, I had a vision of him tearing the thin dress off me, running his hands all over my body while I writhed beneath him.

I swallowed hard. What is wrong with you? Get a grip, Dawn. Some kind of fever had overtaken my brain.

I shoved the image out of my mind, trying to regain my composure. “Thanks for the dress.” My high heels clopped over the wooden stairs. “What will people be doing at this debauched party, exactly? Will they be…” I trailed off, my skin flushing. “You know… in front of other people?”

He held my gaze with a steely intensity. “Fucking?”

That vulgar word on his tongue made my body feel like it was heating, swelling. He loved making me uncomfortable. I flicked my hair over my shoulder. “That’s what I was getting at.”

“Probably. You can always look away to hide your delicate sensibilities, little flower. Unless you want to learn a thing or two.”

The temperature in the room seemed to be rising. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you quite ready now? The others are waiting outside.” He took off, heading for the door.

Folding my arms in front of my chest, I followed Balthazar out to his driveway. Sebastos stood next to a Porsche, his enormous form draped in a layered brown suit.

Raphael leaned against the car, wearing leather pants and a suit jacket. He stood casually, his hands in his pockets, and let out a low whistle when he swept his gaze over me. The look he was giving me suggested he could see right through my dress. “Do we really have to take you to a party? I’d rather spend time with you on my own.”

I blinked at him, my skin warming.

Balthazar glared at him. “Get in the car, Raphael.”

Raphael opened the back door for me, and I scooted onto the leather seat, my hair falling over my shoulders in soft waves. Raphael slipped in the back with me.

“So, we just go to this party,” I said, “and I try to sense the astrolabe. That’s the plan?”

Sebastos hefted his enormous body into the front seat. “That’s the plan.”

In the driver’s seat, Balthazar started the ignition.

“And what makes you think I’m the person who can sense it?” I asked. “Or operate it? Why, exactly, would I belong with you?”

In the back seat, Raphael slid his gaze to me. For just a moment, a felt power thrumming off his body—a warm, tingling sensation that caressed my skin like sunlight. I fought the urge to scoot closer to him and crawl into his lap—

I clenched my fists, piercing my palms with my fingernails until the unwelcome image left my thoughts again. We were on a mission. A mission I barely understood, but a mission nonetheless.

“You feel it,” he said, “don’t you? You feel that you belong with us.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Sebastos said from the front seat.

I definitely felt something for them, but I had a feeling it had more to do with how they looked than anything else. Somehow the stress of the past few days had fiercely ignited my libido, much to my horror.

Balthazar turned a corner onto a dark Cambridge street. “We’ll know when we get there.”

I closed my eyes, trying to think clearly through the panicked haze that had descended ever since Holly had disappeared. But instead of logical thoughts, glimmers of images sparked in my mind: clashing swords, bodies glistening with sweat and blood. A feeling of perfect unity. The grunts of the battlefield—

My eyes snapped open again. Keep it together, Dawn. This is not the time to lose your mind.

Raphael turned to me, a faint smile on his lips. “Did Balthazar explain the role you’ll need to play in order to fit in?”

I shook my head, an uneasy feeling settling in my ribs. “Shockingly, he failed to mention that.”

Raphael’s gaze darkened. “The cultists call their women thralls. The women are submissive, there only to sexually gratify the men.”

Suddenly my dress felt too small, too tight. “And that’s what you want me to do? Are you freaking joking?”

“Don’t get your pink panties in a twist,” Balthazar said curtly from the front seat. “Just simper and look pretty and that’s as far as it has to go. I’d never expect someone with your delicate sensibilities to let herself have any fun.”

Just simper and look pretty. It was a shame he couldn’t see the death stare I was shooting him from the back seat.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, Balthazar turned into a long, dark driveway off Brattle Street. We rolled past a line of other cars—sleek sports cars lined up neatly beside manicured bushes—until he pulled up to a spot at the front of the house.

“House” hardly seemed an appropriate term. Built of stone, with towers that loomed above us, it looked more like a castle. A castle apparently full of debauched cultists with penchants for medieval compasses and submissive thrall-women. Just my kind of party.

As I stepped out of the car, I sucked in a deep breath, imagining myself sitting with Holly over a glass—or six—of wine, telling her about everything that had happened. I couldn’t think of anyone I wanted to talk to more right now, and her loss pierced my chest with a sharp pang. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to ignore that void that had opened in my chest. If I could really detect this thing the way they seemed to expect, then all we had to do was sweep on in there and join the party, and the astrolabe would get me to Holly.

I flicked my hair over my shoulder, staring nervously at the imposing front door nestled between two stone columns. “I don’t suppose they’re nice cultists?” I whispered.

Raphael leaned into me, and his breath warmed the shell of my ear. “They worship darkness.”

A chill rippled up my spine, and my mouth went dry. I was a creature of the light. I really didn’t belong in this place.

Sebastos touched the small of my back, urging me forward. “I can hear your heart. Stop panicking. You’re safe with us.”

The touch of his large hand on the curve of my back sent a jolt of warmth through my body. Sebastos was pretty much terrifying—like a warrior god forged from steel—but as soon as he touched me, I felt protected. I glanced up at him, our eyes meeting. He was right. As long as he was on my side, I really had nothing to fear.

Despite the cars parked in the driveway, the house seemed completely silent. Some party.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, climbing the front steps.

At the top of the stairs, Balthazar rapped firmly three times on the large wooden door. After a moment, the door opened inward with a creak, seemingly by itself. As soon as it did, a wall of noise hit me like a train out of nowhere. Balthazar swept inside, head held high, and I followed behind him.

I sucked in a deep breath, surveying the scene. Under the high ceilings, the guests gyrated in a writhing mass, bodies swaying to the thumping, rhythmic music. The women wore tiny shorts, dresses, and fishnets; the men wore suits. The atmosphere sucked me in the second the door shut behind me. Tension—and unwelcome excitement—rippled up the back of my neck.

Although the exterior of the mansion looked like some kind of medieval castle, the interior was pure, modern luxury. Sleek walls, white leather furniture, marble floors…

My gaze flicked to the ceiling. Mirrors. Of course there were mirrors on the ceiling.

I stuck out my chest and rested my manicured hand on my hip, feeling the eyes of men and women alike trail over my exposed skin… and over everything left unexposed, too. Now this was a party. Already Raphael was moving into the crowd, blending in. Tantalizing waltzy beats drifted through the hallway with a sprinkling of faint, teasing high notes and an undertone of pulsing bass that gripped at my core.

A lithe brunette knelt on all fours on an oak table, wearing only a bra. An olive-skinned man was spanking her hard, leaving red imprints on her skin. I glanced at Balthazar, who met my gaze with a smoldering intensity, and my breath caught in my throat. Tall, brunette, naked and submissive—was that the kind of woman he liked?

I blinked. Why should I care what he liked?

Raphael had found himself two new friends, nice blonde ladies who seemed to have misplaced their tops and were now looking for heat in the form of a male body. I stared at them, at the sensual grace with which they moved their hips around him, and warmth began to pool in my belly. What would it feel like to give in to pure pleasure…

Sebastos leaned in closer, murmuring, “the astrolabe.”

I cleared my throat, straightening. “I know. I’m focused,” I said, a little testily. “I’ll just sense it, shall I?”

A topless, ginger waitress simpered over to us, holding a tray of champagne flutes. “Madame,” she said, and I caught a strong French accent.

Just blending in here. I smiled as I plucked a glass from the tray. As she retreated, I noted the brazen fingernail marks on her milky white shoulder blades and felt suddenly even more out of place than I had before.

Balthazar leaned in close to me. “I’ll be waiting near the door in case we need to make a fast exit, okay? Sebastos will go with you.”

I nodded. Willing my cheeks not to redden, I forced myself to move deeper into the party. Honestly, I had no idea how to sense an astrolabe, or what exactly I was supposed to do. I knocked back my champagne to calm my nerves. I’d hate to use the word chugged, because I wasn’t a frat boy, but I had to admit that it was gone within moments.

And just as I was trying to tune into some kind of vibrations, a man wearing a bowler hat stepped right in front of me. He leered at me with a wide smile.

“First time?” he asked, his voice slithering across my skin in a way that had me suppressing a shiver.

I forced a smile. I was supposed to be nice, right? Simpering and pretty. I wasn’t going to fall at the first dang hurdle, even if I was nearly choking with disgust at the situation.

“Virgin here, are you?” He waggled an eyebrow. “I like virgins.”

Another topless waitress wandered past, and I snatched another champagne flute. I took a long slug. “Um, what?” I raised my eyebrows, desperately trying to tune into the feel of a… medieval compass. Still, the sight of a gun in the man’s belt distracted me.

I cast another subtle gaze around the room, now spying a few other guns in holsters strapped around men’s waists. My blood went cold.

These men worshipped evil… and they were armed. Of course.

“First time here?” he repeated. “I haven’t seen you before.” He reached out, and though he didn’t touch me, he traced the outline of my waist through the air beside me. And he just gets creepier.

I knocked back a gulp of my new champagne, and my gaze flicked to Balthazar by the door, who was glaring at us in a way that did not suggest he was enjoying himself.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked Bowler Hat.

“Yes,” I said when I’d swallowed. “Um, you?” And can you tell me where to find an astrolabe?

He let out a laugh. “I can tell you’d be wild.” The way he was looking at me, I knew he was fantasizing about things that would make me want to puke. I had the strongest desire to run back to the men from the Academy.

“That’s me,” I said unconvincingly. “Totally flipping wild.” Another long sip of champagne, only half paying attention to how much I was drinking. Oh astrolabe… where are you?

A long, pointed tongue darted out of his mouth as he licked his lips. “You’re unclaimed?”

I opened and shut my mouth. I hadn’t been expecting that question, but a quick mental calculation told me it was best to say no. Otherwise Bowler Hat might try to claim me himself, and I had a feeling that would involve his meaty hands and lizard tongue getting up close and personal with my intimate parts. “Already claimed, sorry.”

It was at that moment that I felt a strong presence beside me, and a protective touch around my waist. And then powerful arms scooped me up as if I weighed nothing. Good thing my champagne flute was empty.

Wait a second—had I really drained the second one that fast?

Pressed against Sebastos’s steely chest, I breathed in his briny, marine tones. I looked up at him gratefully. He gave a low warning rumble as he locked eyes on Bowler Hat. “Claimed,” he said. “Mine.”

The man’s wide grin fell underneath the brim of his hat, and he instantly looked a heck of a lot scarier than he had when curiosity had lit his face. Still, he backed off without a fight, slinking back into the shadows. Even with a gun, no one was going to mess with Sebastos.

Slowly, the giant set me down, and I slid down his body as he lowered me to the floor. He said nothing, just narrowed his eyes to take in the scene around us.

A woman stood in the doorframe, her chest pressed against the wood. Behind her, a man pulled up her dress over her waist, exposing her tiny black panties. The bubbles must have gone straight to my head, because I found myself just staring at them as the man slid the panties down over her rump…

My skin heated, and I pulled my gaze away—accidentally catching the eye of a pale, raven-haired man, who licked his lips at me.

Sebastos yanked me close until I stood pressed up against his thick, solid frame.

I let out a breath and rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension in my body. “Let’s get on with this. If I can.” I swallowed hard. “I don’t feel anything yet.”

With one hand lightly on my waist, he leaned in, whispering, “close your eyes, Dawn. Try to remember a feeling that you once had. A power you once possessed.”

What the heck was he talking about? I had no idea, and yet the soothing warmth of his voice caressed my skin, and some of the tension left my shoulders. Something about him drew me closer, healing some of that void I’d felt since Holly had been kidnapped. I found my body brushing against Sebastos, and his fingertips touched my waist.

He leaned down again, enveloping me with that marine scent. “Remember, Dawn. A power you once possessed…”

His words sparked a fire in my body, and I arched my back into him. As I did, something tingled over my skin—a dry, sunlight-filled magic that warmed my chest. It moved up from my core, between my ribs, until it settled in my chest.

And from there, an invisible thread seemed to tug at my body.

“I feel it,” I whispered.

“Take me there.”