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Still. Something tickled at the back of Nick’s mind, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It felt … off, somehow. Nick had learned a long time ago to trust his intuition. It might have led him astray a time or two, but often, that flutter in the back of his mind, that slick twist in his stomach, was something he’d learned to pay attention to.

“Stay right here,” Nick said. “Don’t move; I mean it. I’ll be right back. Need to check if my dad is okay.”

“You want me to go with?”

Nick shook his head. “Nah, it’ll only take a minute. When I get back, I’m going to tell you something you need to hear.” And becauseCosmotaught him to always leave them wanting, he added, “Prepare to be amazed.” With that, he pushed by Seth.

He didn’t look back as he moved through the crowd, getting bumped and jostled, Seth calling after him, people looking annoyed as he apologized for an errant elbow. The music picked up again, vibrating down to his bones, the beat pulsing. He ground his teeth together as the pressure in his head began to build like he was getting one of his headaches. He hadn’t had one of those in a few weeks, not since he’d gotten on the new meds.

He cleared the dance floor and glanced back to see Seth talking to Gibby and Jazz, saying something Nick couldn’t hear.

As he was turning back toward the doors Dad had gone through, he crashed into someone. A waiter, his tray tumbling from his hands, glasses shattering on the floor, spraying liquid. The people closest to them turned and stared as Nick stuttered out an apology to the waiter, bending over to help him pick up the broken glass.

“It’s all right,” the waiter said with a sigh. “Happens to the best of us, honeybunch. Don’t worry about it.”

Honeybunch.

Nick raised his head slowly.

It was the same waiter he’d seen when they’d first arrived, the waiter who had looked familiar in ways Nick couldn’t quite place. Even crouched down, the man was tall, slender, his dark hair falling over his forehead. He picked up the pieces of glass, setting them on the tray on the ground. He must have felt Nick watching him, because he looked up.

And realized exactly what Nick had.

“Oh shit,” the man breathed.

“Miss Conduct?” Nick mouthed.

The man’s eyes widened. “Nick?What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my school! What areyoudoing here?”

The man—Miss Conduct—said, “Working. This is one of my jobs. I … oh my god. Is he here? Is Pyro Storm here too?”

“No,” Nick said quickly. Miss Conduct arched an eyebrow. “Wait, yes, but that’s not—why didn’t you tell us you were going to be working at our prom?”

Miss Conduct rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many high schools there are in the city? How could I have possibly known I’d be working at yours? Besides, it was a last-minute thing. Got a message to pick up some hours. Someone called in sick or their goldfish died in a house fire or something, I don’t know.” He frowned. “The number wasn’t one I recognized, but I don’t usually ask questions when it comes to getting paid.”

“That’s theperfecttime to ask questions!”

“Riiiight,” Miss Conduct said, plucking up the last pieces of glass as he looked Nick up and down. “Killer suit, Nick. I approve.”

“Oh, thank you. It belonged to a dead magician.”

“That I believe.”

“Miss Conduct, I need to—”

“Stop calling me that,” he hissed. “Someone might hear you, and I thought we were supposed to be laying low. My name is Mateo.”

“Mateo,” Nick said, mind racing. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have to find my dad. He—”

“Go,” Mateo said, lifting the tray from the ground as he stood. “I have work to do. We can talk later.” He disappeared into the crowd, never looking back.

Nick stood, too, ignoring the people staring at him, whispering to each other. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he was going to find out.

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