As I surveyed the partygoers, I tried to evaluate the situation logically. The last thing we needed was for me to panic and rush headlong into a back corridor, and straight into Edward’s grasp, while Lucas returned from an emergency bathroom visit. First, I should try his cell phone. I reached for my purse…and remembered I didn’t have one. Nor did I have a cell phone.

I hurried to the bathroom. Standing outside the men’s room, I cast a sensing spell within. It picked up one person. Good. Then the door opened and an elderly man walked out. Once he was gone, I cast the spell again, but the bathroom was empty.

“Damn, damn, damn,” I muttered.

I had to find Lucas—no, I had to find the others, who would help me find Lucas. As much as I bristled at losing a few precious minutes tracking down the others, I knew the extra effort would be worth it. They could track Lucas in a fraction of the time it would take me.

I shot one last look around the ballroom, then headed into the warren of back halls, where the others were supposed to be prowling. As the noise of the gala settled to a distant murmur, I realized I was entering uncharted—and unoccupied—territory. Time to ready a self-defense spell. I started my suffocation spell, then stopped. Would that work on a vampire? Of course not. They didn’t breathe. Fireball spell? Nonlethal, but it could startle him enough for me to make a getaway. Or would it? Fire didn’t hurt a vampire. Goddamn it! Why didn’t I think of this—

“Hello, Paige.”

I jumped and spun around. There behind me was, not a green-eyed, sandy-haired vampire, but a dark-eyed, dark-haired sorcerer. Hector Cortez.

A Coward’s Plan

“WE NEED TO TALK,” HECTOR SAID, BEARING DOWN ON ME.

Of all the moments Hector Cortez could choose to reenter my life, this was quite possibly the worst. A voice in my head told me to run, forget how bad it would look, forget how embarrassing it would be, get away from him and continue looking for Lucas. But my feet wouldn’t obey me. After a lifetime of refusing to run from confrontations, they were damned if they were going to start now.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” I said. “Well, we have, but at the time I was bound and gagged, and I don’t think you ever expected to see me alive again, so you skipped the formalities. I’m Paige Winterbourne. You’re Hector Cortez. I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but we both know I’d be lying. So your meeting didn’t run as late as Benicio expected? Sorry to hear it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

I turned to go. Hector swung in front of me.

“A late meeting? Is that the excuse he used? I didn’t have a meeting. I’ve been exiled in New York for the past two weeks, on my father’s orders. Any idea why he’d do that?”

“Besides to keep you from killingLucas? No, I can’t imagine why.” I stopped, seeing the hard glint in his eye, the glare of a hawk confronting the sparrow who’d chased him off his turf. “You think I got you banished? That I told Benicio that you tried to have me killed in Boston? Well, gee, I’d hope if I did tattle, you’d get something a little worse than an extended New York vacation. No, I didn’t tell your father. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

Hector stepped into my path. “I never said you told my father.”

“What? Oh, so you think I told Lucas and he asked your father to keep you away?” I met Hector’s glare with one of my own. “No, I didn’t. And I won’t. What happened at that house is between you and me, and it stays there. Now get out of my way.”

“Is that your plan, then, witch? Hold it over my head?” He stepped closer, looming over me. “I may make a mistake once, but never twice. I’m not getting out of your way, you’re getting out of mine. Stay with Lucas, and the only question is when I’ll decide to move you aside…permanently.”

“How about now?” said a slow drawl behind him. “First, though, you gotta move me aside.”

Hector turned to see Clayton behind him. His gaze skimmed over the other man with a dismissive twist of his lips. He lifted his fingers to flick Clay aside with a knock-back spell, but Clay grabbed his hand before the first words left his mouth.

“You think you’re going to kill Paige to hurt Lucas?” he said, leaning in, putting his face to Hector’s. “That sound like a clever plan to you? Sounds like a coward’s plan to me.”

Hector tried to wrench his hand free, but couldn’t so much as twist it in Clay’s grasp.

“Who are you?” Hector demanded.

“The question isn’t really who, but what,” Clay said. “You want to find out? Lay a hand on Paige or Lucas and you will.”

Clay clapped his free hand over Hector’s mouth, then squeezed his other hand around Hector’s fingers. There was a sickening crunch of bone and Hector’s eyes bulged, his scream muffled by Clay’s hand.

“You think that hurt?” Clay said. “Imagine what I’d do if I was really pissed off.”

He shoved Hector away and turned to me. “Come on.”

I followed Clay around two corners before he slowed enough to let me catch up.

“He tried to kill you in Boston?” Clay asked.

“You overheard?”

“I was waiting around the corner. Didn’t figure you’d appreciate me interfering too soon. So Lucas doesn’t know?”

“No, he doesn’t, and please don’t tell him. Maybe it seems he has a right to know, but—”