Witch’s corpse. Witch’s ticket. Witch’s party. As a counter-boy at a high-end men’s boutique, Charlie Jessup’s life consists of little more than work and sleep. That, and enough flirting to help guarantee his commission on sales will pay his rent. So when a twist of fate, and some behavior unbecoming that of a Ganymede employee, leaves him in possession of a dead man’s pass to a mysterious Club 669, Charlie has no desire to waste it. Every seventeen years, the House of Witches throws a party like no other. It’s invitation-only, and for centuries it has helped ensure peace between the covens. It’s the last place Caspian wants to be, but with the death of Queen Avel, and his own imminent rise to the throne, it’s more important than ever that he attends. The stability of the House depends on it. In four days a new king will be crowned, but when Charlie unintentionally crashes a gathering of the most secretive of all the Great Houses, he sets in motion a series of events that could disrupt the transition of power, and threaten the future of the House of Witches forever.

Club 669

The way the darkness was broken every few seconds by a burst of light that gave the illusion that everyone was moving at super speed. The changing faces with each flash blanketed the moment with an anonymity that allowed me to forget the oddness of the night, and the knowledge that this place, this very moment, was meant for someone else.


For once being surrounded by strangers didn’t bother me. I threw myself into the music and let myself be swept up in the excitement of the crowd. I felt younger than I had in years. I felt part of something. I felt happy.


Someone kissed me in the dark—male or female, I didn’t know which—and I kissed them back, enjoying the feel of it. The air smelled a booze and perfume, and of warm bodies, and the crowded dance floor grew more crowded still.


Chapter 8