Mac took the creaky wooden stairs two at a time, and I followed her, pulling my mask down. It concealed the top half of my face, a glittery thing covered with sparkles that was more fabulous than anything I owned back in the real world. I hurried up the stairs in my platform boots. The heels were heavy, and I liked them. They would make a good weapon if I had to kick someone.
When we reached the front door, it swung open without us having to knock. A dour butler stood in the entry, his dark suit immaculately pressed and his white hair perfectly combed. He couldn’t have looked less impressed if he tried, and I found myself loving him.
“Jeeves!” Mac grinned widely. “Long time no see, buddy.”
“You are not invited, Macbeth O’Connell.”
“Pshaw,” Mac scoffed. “Check your list. You’ll find my name.”
Jeeves’s white brows lowered. “I am certain I won’t.”
She touched his arm in a friendly gesture, her smile stretching wider. “I'm sure you wouldn’t want Dorothea knowing about your little…hobby?”
Jeeves flushed scarlet, and I wondered who Dorothea was. My gaze moved to Mac’s hand, where she still clutched at Jeeves. She was using her seer’s gift on him and getting blackmail material, I realized.
Holy crap, that was dark.
And clever.
Jeeves sighed and stepped back. “You may enter. But no tricks.”
“Tricks?” She pointed to herself. “Me? Never!”
He glared at her, and I followed her in, giving him an awkward little wave.
As soon as we entered, a crush of people surrounded us. Everyone was dressed to the nines, all in fabulous crazy outfits. There was a giant chicken who shot sparks out of its tail feathers, a monkey with golden fur, and an eight-legged dog who might have been an actual dog and not a costume.
“This place is wild,” I murmured to Mac.
“No kidding.” She grinned widely. “The witches know how to party.”
“Do you gate-crash often?”
“Every time. It’s part of the fun.” She tugged on my arm. “Now come on, I’ve got something I need to do before we meet the witches. It’ll only take half a second, but it’s important. Then we’re on to your stuff.”
I followed her through the various rooms. Each was decorated differently, with fabulous furniture and wild art on the walls. It was all very haphazard and mismatched, but in a funky, cool way.
As we walked, I realized that the rooms were themed for the party. One was done up entirely in glowing red with a volcano in the corner. It went all the way to the top of the tall ceiling, spilling brilliant red lava. People danced around it, drunk and laughing, but I couldn’t look away from the molten stream.
“Is that thing real?” I shouted to Mac over the noise. I knew it couldn’t be, but it looked so lifelike, I had to ask.
“Yeah,” she shouted. “Totally real!”
“Yikes.” It defied the laws of science. But then, I’d entered a world of magic.
“Yeah, don’t fall in. Someone dies at one of these parties at least once a year. Usually a drunken idiot.”
Given the number of people dancing super-close to the river of lava that flowed through the room, I wasn’t surprised. “This would never happen in the real world.”
“The real world doesn’t have magic out in the open like this,” Mac said. “But then again, the Council of Guilds really doesn’t like that the witches do this, either.”
“How do they get away with it if the government doesn’t like it? I know they’ve got sway with the Council, but this seems over the top.”
Mac turned to me and raised her brows. “Can’t you guess?”
Of course. “The Devil of Darkvale.”
“Exactly. He either uses his mind control power or threatens them.”
I remembered the icy feeling of him. “My money is on threats.”
“Mine, too.” Mac turned back and kept pushing her way through the crowd.
We entered a Mardi Gras–themed room, complete with two massive floats and people on stilts. I squinted up at the performers towering over the chamber, admiring their feathery costumes in purple, yellow, and green. Gradually, it dawned on me that they weren’t on stilts.
They were floating.
Man, I hadn’t even had a drink yet.
In the next room, Mac muttered, “Bingo.”
The room was themed like the moon, with rocky ground and dark walls. Gravity seemed to lessen here, and my steps were so light that I could bounce across the ground. “Holy crap, this is amazing!”
“Right?” Mac grinned back at me. “They’ve always got a low-gravity room like this at their parties. Last year, it was undersea themed.”
“Nice.”
“This way.” She pulled me toward a table in the corner of the room against the wall. It was fairly normal looking, and I had a feeling it was here even when the room wasn’t decorated and ensorcelled for the party. A bust of a regal woman sat on top of it, her patrician features staring in disapproval at the crowd.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“Hecate, one of their premier goddesses. I think they worship her or something.” Mac pulled a vial of potion from her pocket and dumped it on Hecate’s head.
The statue glowed briefly, then returned to normal.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“Every time I gate-crash a party, I play a prank on them. Then they play one back on me.”
“What will happen?”
“When I say the magic words, Hecate here will start screeching, and she won’t quit until they turn her off.” She grinned widely. “It’s fun for me, but it’s also insurance.”
“What kind?”
“The only way to shut her up is to get the password from me. If we get into a pickle breaking into your morgue, I say the magic words, and Hecate starts howling. When the witches call me, I’ll demand their help in exchange for the password.”
“Oh, genius.” I held up my hand for a high five, and she smacked it.
“Come on,” she said, “let’s go find them.”
9
Carrow
We bounced our way through the moon room and entered a tiki-themed space. A massive pool sat in the middle, and palm trees grew around the glittering blue water. There were half a dozen people in the pool, all standing around a floating table. Each end of the table had about a dozen red plastic cups sitting on it, each emitting colorful smoke.
Two women stood at either end of the table, tossing ping-pong balls at one another. When one of them landed a ball in her opponent’s cup, the other woman had to drink.
“Holy crap.” I leaned toward Mac. “Are they playing beer pong?”
“Potion pong. Much more dangerous.”
The dark-haired woman on the left side of the table had green stripes through her hair and a bikini that glittered like black diamonds. She swigged back a cup of potion, then put it on the floating table. She grinned and shouted to the other woman, “That’s all you’ve got?”
The blonde woman at the other side laughed. “Oh, just you wait, Coraline.”