Eve gestured subtly toward the spot. “Yours is ready, just like we planned.”

I nodded, going over it in my head. We’d concocted it last night with the witches, and now it was time to put the plan into action. I was meant to spend at least two hours “partying” and appearing to grow more drunk. Eventually, I’d wander off to the shadowed corner spot to have a break, and maybe pretend to vomit. It was quiet and secluded enough that the bastard could grab me in a heartbeat and transport me away.

If we weren’t prepared.

But we were.

Massively so.

There were nearly three dozen witches scattered about, ready to fight, along with my group. Not to mention myself. No way in hell I’d let him take me.

“Let’s get this party started.” I strode forward, a big grin on my face.

Adrenaline raced through my veins as I approached one of the many kegs set into massive ice buckets at the base of the house. Mary stood next to them, grinning wildly and filling beers as quickly as people passed their red plastic cups.

I neared, and Mary smiled with a manic expression on her face. Her pink eyes were serious, though, if one knew to look. It was all an act.

“Hey, Mary.”

“Carrow!” She shrieked her excitement, putting on a good show for the kidnapper if he was watching. “We’ve themed it after an American college party.”

My gaze moved to the kegs. “Is that what these are all about?”

“Yep!” She discarded the tap hose from one keg and reached for another. “You have to try this one, it’s fantastic.”

She filled a glass and I took it, taking a deep sip.

Disgusting.

I barely resisted spitting it out.

I’d heard that non-alcoholic beer wasn’t any good, and boy, did this prove it. I swallowed and gave her a big grin. “It’s great, thanks.”

Her magenta eyes twinkled with knowing mirth. “Yeah, it’s the actual worst, isn’t it?”

We were surrounded only by witches and my friends, so I was able to speak truthfully. “Yep.”

“Bottoms up!” She grinned and swigged back her own cup, masterfully suppressing a grimace.

The whole point of the party was to make me look like a drunken idiot, easy prey. If everyone else looked like drunken idiots, too, it was even better. Frankly, the witches had nailed it on the theming. The kidnapper would think it was a walk in the park.

Eve, Seraphia, and Mac each accepted a cup of the terrible beer, and Mary pointed to the collection of tables set up in the middle of the courtyard. “Drinking games are over there. Get to it.”

“Thanks.” I gave her a nod and departed, my friends at my side.

Every minute, more people flowed into the party. The noise and energy vibrated through the place, and I looked around, searching for Grey.

He was there. I could feel it. I could feel him.

But where, I had no idea. I knew I could count on him being nearby when I staggered over to Kidnappers Corner, though.

The thought made me feel better.

We neared the tables that were set up with various red plastic cups in different arrays, people spread out around the tables and cheering as the games progressed. There was a lot of chanting and a whole lot of spilled beer.

The witches were insane geniuses.

“Let’s play some Flip Cup,” Mac said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

She pointed to a table where cups were positioned upside down on either edge, partially hanging over the side. “It’s that one right there. I learned about it on Google when the witches wanted help planning the party. Apparently, we have to flip cups over, and if we don’t do a good enough job, we have to drink.”

“Sounds like a blast.”

We joined a group around a table and started playing. Despite the stress of the situation, it actually was pretty fun.

Mary joined us at one point. Music blared over the loudspeakers that I couldn’t see, some kind of enthusiastic chanting that I didn’t recognize.

“What’s the music?” I asked her.

“College football theme songs, or something.” Mary shrugged. “You know, the game with the big blokes who hit each other, not proper football.”

As the music played, the chants changed in tone and phrase. Rock Chalk Jayhawk, Roll Tide, and Glory Glory to Old Georgia buffeted up against Boomer Sooner, Rocky Top, and Woo Pig Sooie.

Mary must have caught my baffled expression and said, “I have literally no idea. We basically stole every American college thing we could find and smashed it together to make this party.”

As weird as it all sounded, everyone seemed to be having a damned good time. Especially the people drinking the real beer.

We turned our attention back to the games and continued playing. As I flipped cups and tossed Ping Pong balls and sandbags at their targets, I drank more and more fake beer. So did my friends, and soon we were all pretending to move a little more awkwardly and trip a little more often.

I could feel Grey’s gaze on me the entire time, burning across my skin in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I ignored it as best I could and focused on building the charade.

Finally, it was time. The crowd was dense and pissed, the sober witches having moved strategically to the edges of the crush so that they could be nearby when shit went down. Some of them danced and breathed fire in a fantastic display, while others “drunkenly” hula-hooped around the open spaces in the courtyard.

All were ready for action.

I turned to Mac. “I’m out of here. Need some air.”

She nodded, her expression concerned.

“Try to look more pissed,” I muttered. “You’re looking sober and scared.”

“Alright, mate.” Her expression changed, going slightly slack.

“Good job. See you soon.” I staggered through the crowd, clutching my stomach like I was going to be ill. When a particularly large crush of people surrounded me, I reached into my pocket for the small stunner bomb that Eve had given me. I also wore some heavy jewelry fitted with useful potions—just-in-case potions—but hopefully I wouldn’t need them.

With the potion bomb trapped under the palm that I’d pressed to my stomach, I was ready. And yet, the crowd was just so damned thick.

“I’m going to be ill,” I said, just loud enough for those around me to hear.

It did the trick, and the masses parted for me, letting me escape into the fresh air. The quiet nooks set away from the party were still only half full. Most people had been seduced into the action by the games and crazy music, and the setting was just right for our trap.

My senses were on high alert as I stumbled toward the quiet corner farthest from the party, hoping that I wasn’t laying it on too thick. I could feel the eyes of someone watching me, and I was almost entirely certain it wasn’t Grey.

The kidnapper.

The close attention felt cold and clammy, not warm and lovely, the way Grey’s felt.

I reached the bench and flopped onto it, the potion bomb clutched in my hand. Every hair on my body stood on end as I waited. If this guy was anything like the last, he’d be fast and powerful.

As I sat, I could feel Grey’s gaze on me, as well. Everyone else was ignoring me—or so it seemed. I could feel their attention just as strongly, even though they weren’t looking at me.

When the kidnapper appeared behind me, I sensed it. A slight change to the air, like a prickle of magic that stung my skin. The scent of burning tires preceded him, his dark magic impossible to hide. The sound of crunching gravel sounded only a few feet behind me.

I leapt up and spun around, heart hammering.

The red-eyed bastard stood right behind the bench, his huge shoulders slightly hunched and his mouth twisted into a permanent grimace. Shock flashed in his eyes, and I hurled the potion bomb right at his chest.

It bounced off as if there were a barrier surrounding him, slamming to the ground and exploding.

What the hell?

He lunged for me, and I darted backward, fear icing my skin.

Magic surged on the air, and lightning struck from above. It shot downward from the flying figure who hovered right overhead—Eve. The bolt aimed true, slamming into the man’s head, cracking and bright.

He didn’t so much as flinch—just leapt over the bench and grabbed for me. I ducked, darting to the side to avoid his grasp.

From behind, a dozen blasts of magic shot through the air. They slammed into the man, a rainbow of different attack spells conjured by the witches.

Horror dawned as every single one bounced off him. One slammed right into me, turning my knees into jelly as I slammed to the ground, suddenly weak.

Through bleary eyes, I spotted a glowing charm around the kidnapper’s neck. Was that what was protecting him?

Conflicting desires surged within me—run and attack. But we’d never have another chance.

If only I could get that necklace . . .

The kidnapper lumbered toward me, rage in his eyes. He was determined to finish the job now that it had started, and the attack had just pissed him off.

As I scrambled to my feet, Grey appeared at the corner of my vision. He hurtled toward the kidnapper, as fast and powerful as a train. In seconds, he’d reached the hulking brute. He grabbed for him, but the protective shield around the bastard blew Grey backward.

He was prepared this time. Though he flew ten feet through the air, he landed in a graceful roll and popped up to his feet, ready to charge again. Behind him, the witches and my friends were converging, magic glowing around them as they readied themselves to strike.

Yet, it wouldn’t work.

I was the only one who could possibly get to him since he wanted to catch me. I drew my dagger and lunged for him, so close that I could see the scowl lines dug deep into his face.

I raised the blade, drawing his attention to the gleaming steal. He was distracted just long enough that I could swipe out with my free hand and yank the charm from around his neck.

A blast of magic shot from the sky above, slamming into his head. He went to his knees, his roar of pain echoing in the night. I planted my dagger into his shoulder, but he was too fast. He swiped out with a massive fist, slamming it into my face.