Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 4)

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.