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The thought almost makes me laugh. Options?

“I don’t get out much,” I shout over the music. They wouldn’t understand.

Calista leans in to Wayne, already distracted. “Go get us some drinks.”

With a nod, he disappears into the mass of people, heading towards the bar.

Calista links her arm through mine, pulling me deeper into the room. “Ophidia beats every other place I’ve been for one major reason.”

She points across the club to a dim hallway that opens beyond the crowd.

“That’s where the playrooms are,” she says. “Where all the good stuff happens.”

A flutter of curiosity passes through me.

I’ve read enough to understand what that means. But imagining those things and standing this close to them are entirely different experiences. Knowing what’s happening back there sends heat low in my stomach, mixing with shame.

“Have you been in them?” I ask.

Her smile is all mischief when she glances over at Wayne. “Many times.”

He returns with three beers. The cold glass sweats in my hand, and I hold it as if it’s something I shouldn’t touch. I force down one sip and try not to react to the bitter taste.

Time slips away.

I catch Calista’s arm before she can drift again. “What about the medallion? Who am I supposed to talk to?”

Her attention has already gone back to the stage. “I don’t know. Ask someone who works here.”

Wayne nods towards the carved chairs. “The Crotaveres used to sit up there, but it’s been a while since Vanessa passed.”

A chill tingles up my arms. “Crotavere? Like Edwin?”

Calista whips towards me. “What did I tell you? Stay away from him.”

Before she can drag him off, Wayne leans in. “Start with the bartender. I’ve seen him talking to the Crotaveres a lot.”

“Are they part of the Serpents?”

His expression tightens as if he already regrets saying anything. He shrugs, and Calista impatiently pulls him against her. A second later, they’re lost in each other again, kissing while the rest of the world disappears.

And I’m alone.

Their absence leaves me exposed in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I don’t know these people. I barely know the couple I came here with. The desire to touch and be touched connects everyone in the room.

My arms fold instinctively across my middle.

But I didn’t come here to watch. I came here for answers.

Squeezing through the crowd, I make my way to the bar. By the time I reach it, my palm is wet from my grip on the beer bottle. I leave it on the counter and pull the medallion from my purse, tracing the raised symbol while I wait for the bartender to notice me.

I don’t understand why Asher sent me here instead of the police. But there has to be a reason. He trusted this place with his last breath.

“Wow.”

The voice is close enough to make me flinch.

A man on the stool beside me leans in, his smoky cologne filling the space before I can turn. “Haven’t seen one of those in years.”