Funny, this was just like after the raids. The two of them talking in the night, tethered by two phones, an invisible connection open between them that was nonetheless tangible.

He was her only friend, she realized.

And she was very grateful they’d come out the other side of their argument—and also that first night of training.

Suddenly things didn’t seem so foreign anymore.

“Damn, I’m good,” Marissa said as she sat back and looked at the stack of five-by-seven card stock in front of her.

It had taken her hours, but she had managed to computer-generate one hundred color invitations to the Twelfth Month Festival Ball. Yes, it would have been so much better if the damn things were engraved, but they were out of time: There were only about fourteen days before the event on its mandatory first full moon of December, so nobody was in a position to get fussy over cutting corners.

Next stop was addressing the envelopes, and Mary and Bella had offered to help with that at the mansion. After that, Marissa was going to talk to Fritz about whipping up the food, and ask around for some of the traditional Old Country musicians to cover that hole.

Oh, and may the Scribe Virgin bless Abalone forevermore: The male had agreed to let them use the ballroom at his estate. It was a much better option than that other venue at the rich-old-male/gold-digger-female combination’s place: That pair had hosted the secret Council meeting to plot against Wrath, so there was no way any of the Brothers were going back there unless it was with a bunch of flamethrowers—and by extension, she didn’t think Butch would have been all about her spending time under that particular roof.

So, invitations. Venue. Food. Entertainment.

She was on it, but she wasn’t fooling herself. She knew why she’d been asked to chair the event, and it wasn’t her competence: The people pushing for this were having trouble drawing the glymera out after all the drama around Wrath’s democratic election. As there was nothing that the aristocrats loved more than a scandal, what could be more fun than watching her in action at the party?

Her presence was going to up the acceptance rate through the roof.

And it was funny. In a sick way, she found herself looking forward to holding her head up high in that bunch of sharks—and at least Butch wouldn’t have to deal with the bullcrap. He was going to be out working and teaching. Besides, he’d have no patience for that party kind of thing.

She would travel this stretch backward into her history alone.

Checking her watch, she noted that it was three o’clock. Usually she waited until four a.m. to go home, but if she and the females could get these invitations addressed before everyone retired, then Fritz could take them to the human mail system and they would be received the day after.

With quick efficiency, she packed the invites and envelopes into the LV Neverfull that Butch had gotten her a while ago, and shut down her computer.

Her sense of satisfaction was short lived.

After checking in with her staff and excusing herself for the evening, she left the Wellsie wing and spirited back to the mansion. As she waited for the vestibule’s inner door to be opened for her, she went right back to worrying about the female.

Still nothing on that “key.” And no e-mails to the general accounts at Safe Place or the audience house about a missing female. Nothing on the closed social media groups. No phone calls or texts, either.

But her family had to be missing her, right?

Fritz, the beloved butler, opened the door with a wide smile. “Mistress, how fare thee?”

Fucked-up, thank you. “I am very well, how are you?” She shook her head as he went to take her bag. “I’ve got this, thanks. Have you seen—”

“We’re ready! And Mary’s on her way!”

Marissa looked over at the archway into the billiards room. Bella, Beth, and Autumn were standing together, glasses of white wine and plumed pens in their hands.

“We’re prepared to scribe up,” Bella said. “And then we’ve asked for Last Meal on special service, because we’re doing movie day upstairs in the theater.”

“Magic Mike XXL just came out on DVD,” Beth chimed in. “We have a moral obligation to support the arts, even if they’re just the human ones.”

“I haven’t seen the first one,” Autumn murmured. “They tell me his pelvis is double-jointed. Is that true?”

Beth came forward and took the Neverfull. “Come on, you look like you need a girls’ night. Payne and Xhex are joining us. So are Cormia, Layla, Doc Jane, and Ehlena. We’re getting all of us together—it’s about time.”

For a split second, Marissa felt guilty about easing into the friendship that was being offered. It seemed … too frivolous when she thought about all she wasn’t able to do for that unknown female.

Bella leaned in. “We’ve told the males that they can’t come in. Mostly because if they see that Channing guy up on the big screen—”

Beth finished, “—we’re going to need to do a remodel after they’re done with things.”

“Back to the double-jointed business,” Autumn kicked in. “I mean, how does he walk?”

“Very well, my friend.” As Bella answered Tohr’s mate, she put an arm around Marissa’s shoulders. “Very, very well.”

As Marissa let herself get drawn into the billiards room—where ink pots had been set up on one of the coffee tables and there was already a glass set out for her—she began to blink fast. Part of the emotion was the fact that that female who had died wasn’t ever going to have anything like this again—if she’d been lucky enough to find good people surrounding her while she’d been alive.