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Hunter clapped him over the back the head. “Just get me upstairs. Christ.”
Music vibrated through the ceiling, making the chandelier jingle. I stepped out from under it and helped Shannon with Hunter’s chair, trying to avoid the gobs of fake, sticky-looking blood that dripped down the stair rail.
At the top of the stairs we set the chair down, and Quinn lowered Hunter into it. As soon as he was seated, he wheeled off toward the open double doors and the pulsating crowds within. “Come, Liam,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m going to help you find the perfect bloody angle tonight.”
“Coming,” I said and, stepping in front of Quinn, lifted the helmet and set it down on his head. He gave me a startled look that quickly melted into a smile and a wink.
“Thanks.”
I gave a sharp nod, abruptly turned, and ran off to find the “perfect bloody angle.”
I really wanted to explore how the customs and traditions of Halloween manifested in the party, but Hunter vetoed.
“How about you find three case studies of drunken students”—he pointed to some hags in the corner, drinking out of a cauldron—“and make up scarily disgusting hangover remedies for each?”
“How about a column on the dangers of candy-poisoning?” For the tenth—twentieth?—time, I glanced to the middle of the room where Quinn was dancing. It was almost a game the way we scoured the crowds for one another.
This time he was grooving with one of the football zombies. His head lifted and our gazes collided once more. A strange, static energy pulsed in the air as he continued to stare at me.
The zombie twisted Quinn around and the connection broke. I blinked hard a couple times. Quinn really should stop grinding with that guy; he might get infected and turn into a zombie roadrunner.
I shook off the thought, but before I dragged my gaze away, the zombie wrapped his arms around Quinn’s neck, bringing his blood-stained mouth toward that smooth, soft part of skin just under the ear—
And there went the love bite! I swallowed tightly.
What was the protocol here? Was Quinn hooking up with this guy? Did it mean I had to find my own way home?
Hunter slapped my ass with a solid bite to it. I jerked in his direction. “Stop ogling Quinn,” he said, shaking his head and grinning.
Ogling? No. “I was merely trying to determine how I should get home tonight, since he was our ride.”
“Whatever you say. And Shannon will take us back. No worries. Now . . .” Hunter choked on his words. His jaw hardened and he cast his gaze sideways, toward a hockey player with a plastic chainsaw pouring himself some punch.
It took me a few seconds before I figured out his reaction. There by the door, dressed as a pirate with smudgy eyeliner and a bandana, stood Mitch, talking with Jack of all people. At least Mitch didn’t look happy about the discussion. That said something for good taste.
“Fuck. I need a drink,” Hunter said, and I escorted him to the fruity punch. He poured us both one. The plastic cup was sticky, but the rest of it was quite okay. Fruity and easy on the taste buds.
“You know what?” I slurped down the last of the drink. “I think your angle could work.”
Mitch’s idea for an angle wasn’t what I’d have gone for myself, but I could handle it for one column if it took Hunter’s mind off Mitch.
Setting my cup on the table behind me, I fished in my pouch and pulled out my notebook and pen, resisting the urge to search for Quinn on the dance floor again. “Talk me through the idea . . .”
Forty minutes (and only two glances at Quinn) later, I had all the grizzly, alcohol-drenched details I needed.
“This will work just fine,” I said, draining another punch.
I choked on the liquid as a gap in the dancing crowds revealed Mitch across the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His casual smile faded as he took us both in. He pushed off the wall with his shoulders and stepped forward.
Hunter’s wheels squeaked over the wooden floor as he spun his chair around. The tightness of his jaw made it clear he wasn’t interested in having a confrontation tonight.
Mitch took another step forward and stopped, watching as Hunter wheeled away. I gave him a shrug and bounded after Hunter, rolling through a set of double doors.
I caught up with him on a cozy balcony that overlooked the back garden, a trellis of jasmine spilling over the side to the lawn below. In the distance, a silhouette of the Cathedral of Learning dominated the skyline.
I folded my arms. “I suppose I should ask if you’re okay?”
Hunter rested his head against the back of his chair, staring at the moonlit sky. “Yeah, I think I’m going to call it a night and get Shannon to drive me back.”
