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“I can’t even process what I just saw,” I say finally, voice weirdly flat.

Mina’s expression shifts immediately.

“What happened?”

I shake my head fast.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

If I say it out loud, it becomes real, and honestly, reality’s been doing entirely too much tonight.

“Later,” I mutter. “Or never. Probably never.”

“Blair—”

“Dance with me.”

She blinks.

“What?”

I grab her hand.

“Dance with me before my brain starts unpacking that whole situation and I become fully unusable as a person.”

Mina studies my face for half a second.

Then, because she’s either a good friend or a terrible influence, she nods.

“Okay,” she says, squeezing my hand. “We dance.”

“Great. Love avoidance. Very healing.”

Then she drags me straight back into the crowd like that can save me from whatever the fuck is happening inside my head.

About forty minutes later the world starts melting beautifully around the edges.

The bass feels warmer now.

Heavier.

Lights smear into neon streaks across the crowd while foam blasts over the dance floor again and sweat sticks my hair to my skin beneath flashing lasers overhead.

Mina drags me deeper into the crowd laughing while everybody around us jumps and screams beneath the music.

And fuck.

Freedom feels incredible.

Dangerous and knowing Dagger and Noir, definitely temporary.

But incredible.

We dance until my lungs burn and my thighs ache while the entire warehouse pulses around us like one giant living organism fueled entirely by bad decisions and serotonin deficiency.

Bodies moving together beneath neon lights.