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“What?” I ask.

“You’re an asshole.”

That only makes Sage laugh harder. When she finally straightens, she points at me. “Okay. I like him.”

Ezra’s expression somehow gets worse. I like that more than I should.

“Two hundred and forty-one years.” Sage wipes beneath one eye, still trying to catch her breath.. “Sure. Why not? What are you, vampires?”

“No.”

“Demons?”

“No.”

She studies us for another second. “Immortal corn farmers?”

Whatever control Rhett had left disappears. He turns away, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Even Ezra loses the battle for half a second. The corner of his mouth twitches.

Sage catches it immediately. Her finger shoots toward him. “Caught you.”

His almost-smile disappears but not fast enough.

I watch her. She has no idea how close she came.

Immortal corn farmer.

Ridiculous but almost accurate.

The music shifts again, slowing into something heavier as the bass rolls across the farm. Almost instinctively, the crowd responds, people drifting closer as the Revel settles deeper into the night.

I feel the change immediately.

Rhett does too. His laughter fades, and beside him, Ezra mutters a curse under his breath.

Sage looks between us. “What now?”

“Nothing,” Ezra says.

She gives him a flat look. “I’m beginning to hate that word.”

Then the heat comes.

Not the warmth of bodies packed together or the bonfires burning nearby. The temperature itself climbs, enough that people start tugging collars and pushing sleeves up their arms. Jackets are abandoned across hay bales, sweaters get peeled off and tied around their waists, masks slowly disappear as everyone presses closer together.

All around us, the Revel seems to loosen the crowd one degree at a time.

And as the temperature rises, the bonfire burns higher.

Sage pulls at the neck of her sweater. Her skin is flushed. “Is it suddenly hot?”

“Yes,” I say.

Ezra glares at me.

“What?”