“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “Now back off.”
He raises his hands in front of him in mock surrender and steps back a few paces. I’m out the door in a second without looking back as I race toward the dance floor. I have to find Allison. I need to make sure she’s safe. That, and if I don’t find her before Tristan does, my future—everything I’ve worked for—will be for nothing.
I’m less polite this time as I make my way through the crowd of gyrating bodies. More than once, I think I see her, but when I approach, it’s always a stranger. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. My palms sweat, and the fact that so much is at stake makes me frantic.
I catch the top of a blond head walking toward the back door, and I follow. My feet surge forward when I recognize the clothing on the girl. It’s her. I grab the back of her shirt, and she whips around with wide eyes.
“Aurora?” she shouts to be heard over the music.
“We have to go!” I yell. I may have found her first, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m not trusting Tristan to keep his word.
“How did you find me?” she asks.
“It doesn’t matter right now! He’s here. We need to go!”
She nods and reaches for my hand, pulling me through a mass of writhing dancers. I manage to squeeze between two people, cringing at the damp warmth of their bodies and push a few more out of my way. Finally, we make it out the door and stand in the parking lot around the back of the bar.
“Why did you come here?” I ask, trying to catch my breath.
“I was hoping my cousin could help. When I got here, he wouldn’t see me.”
“If he wouldn’t help, why are you still here?”
“I thought he’d come around. I tried to talk to him and get him to understand, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s too loyal to Tristan. After that, I figured it would be a good place to hide out until I could come up with a plan.”
“And did you?”
She sighs and slumps against the building. “I’m barely hanging on, Aurora.” She puts her hand to her head and groans. “I’m so scared. I didn’t think this would happen.”
“I understand, but we have to keep moving. Where’s your phone? Call Oliver.”
Her head snaps up, and she sways on her feet. “Oliver is here?”
I reach out and grab her, steadying her, and nod.
Allison swears loudly, her hands shaking at her sides. Her wide eyes are slightly bloodshot, as though she’s been crying. I’ve never seen her so frightened. Why is she so afraid of Tristan? What did she do?
“Breathe, okay? We’re going to figure this out.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t . . .” She closes her eyes and licks her lips.
“You can’t what? Come on. We need to go.”
Her eyes fly open, and she grips my arms.
“Easy, Allison. You’re okay.” Her grip is tight. She’s hurting me, but I grit my teeth and force a passive expression.
“I’m so sorry,” she whimpers.
“You ran because you were scared. It’s okay. We’re going to get through this.” I say it more for my benefit, to reassure myself I’ll figure out how to discredit Tristan’s idea that I have fae in my family tree.
She shakes her head again. “I’m so sorry.”
I’m about to question her incessant apologizing when she whips us around and pushes me against the cold brick of the building. I don’t have time to open my mouth to speak.
Allison’s expression shifts to a distant, unfamiliar look as she cuts off my oxygen, gripping my throat. Panic clamps down on my chest. Dizziness floods in, and I can’t move. Black spots dot my vision, but I can’t fight her off. I can’t make a sound.
The back door swings open with a loud smack against the brick, and Allison wrenches her hand away as if she’s been burned. She looks terrified at her own actions. As fast as she went all fae on my ass, she vanishes.
With Allison no longer holding me by my throat, I sway on my feet. The pavement rushes to meet me like we’re old friends. I close my eyes in preparation for the impact, but it doesn’t come. It takes me a few long seconds to realize someone is holding me. I pry my eyes open to find Tristan. He’s glaring at me, his unfairly gorgeous features dark and sharp in the moonlight. Every one of his eyelashes casts a dark shadow on his cheeks.
I hear him snarl, a beast in a pretty package, and then I pass out.
I blink several times before I realize I’m looking at the familiar ceiling above my bed. I’m back in my dorm room with no idea how I got here. I sit up in a panic and wince at the lingering dizziness. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I use the nightstand to help me to my feet. I’m surprised to find my cell phone sitting on the table, but I grab it, scrolling through my contacts until I find Oliver’s name.
“Aurora? Hey, what’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in my room. Are you okay?”
“When did you get home?”
“What?” He laughs. “I didn’t go out last night.”
The clock in my room reads just after noon. “You were home? The whole night?”
“Yeah . . .” he says, sounding worried. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I lie without a thought. “Have you heard from Allison today?”
“She’s fine,” he says in a casual tone.
I press my lips together. “You talked to her?”
“She’s fine,” he repeats in the same tone.
What the hell? “I’ll talk to you later, Oliver.” I hang up before he has a chance to say anything else. As I change out of last night’s clothes, the rage of being manipulated fills me. I didn’t ask for any of this. I have no idea what’s going on, no idea what happened last night after I passed out, but I have a good idea where to look for answers.
I’m on my way to the Westbrook Hotel before I can talk myself out of it.
I charge up the marble stairs that lead to the building and fly through the open door. My footsteps echo on the ornate lobby floor as I approach the reception desk where I slam my fist against the dark wood counter.
“I need to see Mr. Westbrook,” I demand.
The young, blond receptionist offers a polite smile. “My apologies, Mr. Westbrook is in a meeting. Would you like to wait?”
“No,” I snap.
Her eyes widen. “Oh.”
“I need to see him. Now.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not possible.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have time for this. You seem like a lovely person, and I bet he’s not paying you enough to deal with people like me, so I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.” Before she can open her mouth, I sprint toward the elevator. Jamming the button as if my life depends on it, I look over my shoulder in time to see her lift the phone to call security.
Once inside, I press the button for the penthouse and blow out a breath. I lean back against the wall and watch the numbers tick by as the elevator ascends. About halfway up, it stops, and the door opens.