In a few minutes, the five of us—Corvid, Sparkle, Rhys, Samir, and I—stood in a curtained-off area behind the main registration table. The noises of the 'Con—people laughing, talking, debating—swirled around us, but muffled. I knew our enemy also prowled through the place, searching for opportunities to sneak in and feed off negative energy. Even our brief interaction had left me feeling shaky, but then, it had been a rough morning, and I needed food. If such a short encounter had weakened me, how was I supposed to manage a battle at a ball?
Well, first thing—make sure the ball wouldn't happen. Samir's aristocratic black brows, drawn together with exhaustion and annoyance, told me it wouldn't be easy to convince him.
"What happened?" Samir asked, but not to anyone in particular. Both Spa
