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“He’s fine. He’s training with them. He wants to learn to fight and they’re the best males to teach him.”

“He’s fighting them?” Mags shrieked, always the dramatic one, and tugged my hair.

“Bald isn’t exactly the look I had in mind for tonight.” She quickly eased up. “And you don’t need to worry. Lothar, the male in charge of training him, is…” What? What could I say to put my family at ease. “A really good guy, and an excellent fighter. I promise, Ren wants to be there.” I hoped that was true, all of it.

“I can’t believe he left you,” Roe said.

Iris frowned. “Yeah, he was so worried about being here to be your backup, he wouldn’t just leave. Maybe they’re forcing him to stay. Maybe he told you he wanted to be there, but really…”

“Warrick said he’d help while Ren’s training,” I told them grudgingly. “That’s why Ren was cool with it.”

Again, silence filled the room.

Then Iris hooted. “Oh man, I bet you hate that.”

Mom smiled. “I think it’s wonderful.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” I said to her.

Roe smiled down at my hand as she painted one of my nails but said nothing.

“So what time is he getting here?” Else asked.

“He’s not. This is just a ballroom full of witches trying to one-up each other, I don’t need backup for that.” I winced when Mags started on my hair again.

“It’s not just witches. The trials are a big deal, and we have allies from many different walks of life, allies who often get caught up in our drama while we’re completing our tasks,” Mom said. “Many are invited as a gesture of goodwill. This is exactly the kind of thing you should tell him about. You never know who’ll be there.”

Nope. That would not be happening. “I’ll call him when I leave,” I lied.

Else eyed me, a look on her face that said she knew I was full of shit, and Mom beamed like it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard.

I ignored all of it. After my time at the den, I was in serious need of a little space from the hellhound alpha.

Finally, after a lot more fussing and a mascara wand in the eye, they were done.

“You look hot,” Else said.

“Hotter than any of those rich bitches,” Mags added.

I grabbed my keys and the gold clutch Mom shoved into my hand after slipping my lipstick and phone inside, and I headed for the door. The invitation sat on top. Good thing, since I had no idea where I was going.

“Watch your back tonight,” Mom called after me.

“Give ’em hell,” Else yelled.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to do either of those things, because I had no plans of staying there longer than necessary.

I almost expected to find Warrick waiting for me outside. Thankfully, there was no surly hellhound there when I reached the Morris. I climbed in, started her up, plugged the address into my phone, and headed out.

The drive was uneventful, which was a nice change.

The event was being held at the Grand Valencia. The witches’ council had booked out the entire place, so the only humans here were staff. The building was beautiful, built in the 1920s, and had that whole art deco vibe in spades. Lots of glass and gold and gorgeous tile. It also had an upscale hotel and boasted a Michelin star restaurant and two massive ballrooms.

The valet rushed out as I pulled up. When I handed him my keys, he screwed up his nose. “If you scratch her, I’ll break your fingers,” I said, wiping that look off his face.

Some people didn’t appreciate classic beauty.

I glanced up at the massive marble entrance. Warm light spilled out onto the steps, shining through the prisms of crystal dangling from giant chandlers just inside the door. It danced and glinted across the white marble, making it look like everything was under water and adding to the feel of outrageous opulence.