as packed with Manhattan's elite, a sea of black tuxedos and glitte

She had pinned the waist from the inside, giving it a semblance of shape, but

's the one?" "The foster kid

r the entrance. A hu

nes had

s carved from granite, led the way. Behind her,

an T

was pale, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. His dark hair fell over his fore

ria practically r

d gushed. "And Julian

at anyone. He stared straight ahead at the buf

said. His voice was a low rasp, r

s arm and yanked her fo

a up and down. "She's scraw

ain from her face, but

a. They were dark, almost black, and cold as the bottom

aughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Vance, you're really

g in the air.

directly at him. She didn't look away. She tilted her

back of Julian's wheelc

ted violently to stabilize his torso without using the armrests. The tendon in his neck flared. Under the blanket, th

into the "cripple" posture, but he

a sa

saw that

. The boredom vanished, replac

r leaving Elara's face. "I need air.

andame Thorne waved a h

oward the handles of t

rm. She began to push. He was heavy-muscle is h

oudly to her friends. "The freak an

ace. The noise of the party faded instantly,

edge of the balcony,

und to face him. She leaned back agains

wa