Justin froze with the glass halfway to his lips, a sick, helpless feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as Aslyn pulled a small, empty vial out of her cleavage.

“Wh-what did you give me?” The glass slipped from his shaking hand and shattered against the stone floor, splashing wine on his shoes. “Is it poison?”

“Poison? Not exactly, but it will kill you if you don’t receive the antidote,” Aslyn said.

“G-give it to me—” She swatted his hand away as he reached for her.

“I don’t have it, silly.”

“Who...who does?” The room was stifling, his heart racing.

“Why, Lord Xavier, of course,” she said. She grabbed him by the chin and made sure he was looking at her. “Tell him Catherine says, ‘De rien’. You got that? De rien.”

“Yeah, I got it. De rien.”

“Good. He’ll know what it means. Now run along, petit jouet, while there’s still time for him to save you.” They laughed madly as he pushed past them, stumbling through the door and out into the ballroom. Xavier. He had to find Xavier. He scanned the room desperately, searching for that platinum blond hair. He didn’t see him. Maybe the next room.

Justin pulled at his tie, the band of silk suddenly too tight around his throat. He couldn’t breathe, his heart pounding loud, like a drum in his ears. The next room was even more crowded, and he was running out of time. He grabbed someone’s arm.

“Xavier?” he gasped. “Have you seen Xavier?”

“Someone get this drunk mortal off of me,” the man replied, inhuman strength sending Justin staggering backward. He was grabbed by a man in a servant’s uniform.

“Come with me, sir,” the young man said. “You can lie down for a bit.”

“No, no, I need to find Xavier. I—”

“I’ll take him, thank you,” said a familiar voice laced with no small amount of disgust.

“Oh, thank God,” Justin nearly sobbed. “Xavier, I—They—”

A steely hand gripped him by the arm, steering him from the room. “I asked you to go easy on the alcohol.”

“I did—”

“I can smell it on you.”

“The glass broke—splashed on my pants.”

Xavier shoved Justin back against the nearest wall, leaning close until his cold breath ghosted across Justin’s face like the touch of death. “I smell wine on your breath and—Fuck, Justin, …