“Let me see that,” Zoe prodded, holding out her free hand for the invitation.
Cormack acquiesced, amusement lighting his features as he regarded Angelina.
“What does it say?” I asked after Zoe had studied the invitation for a full minute. “Did Cormack miss something?”
Zoe flipped the invitation over and released Angelina’s lips. “It looks like a normal invitation.”
“Of course it’s a normal invitation,” Angelina sputtered, hostility rushing out of her and smacking into Zoe, who ignored the other woman’s overt fury. “It doesn’t do tricks. It’s a piece of paper.”
“Take it down a notch,” Zoe warned, tracing her fingers over the back of the invitation. “When were you approached to throw this party?”
“Excuse me?” Angelina looked positively apoplectic. If I had to guess, reading a room had never been part of her skill set. “I’ll have you know that I’m the premiere party planner in southeastern Michigan.”
Jerry made a derisive noise in the back of his throat. “Only when a pimp is throwing the party.”
“Shut up, Jerry!” Angelina’s tone was so shrill it set my teeth on edge. “You can make all the fun you want.”
“I believe that’s what we’re already doing,” Aric offered. “Also, you might not want to challenge my wife like that because she loves winning to the point of distraction. She will turn making fun of you into an art form.”
Aisling’s hand shot into the air. “I’ve already perfected that art form.”
Zoe’s lips quirked as Angelina scowled.
“I don’t have to take this abuse,” Angelina hissed. “I’m only here because I was going to be in the neighborhood.”
“That’s not why you’re here,” Zoe countered, her hand going out to Angelina’s wrist so she could stop her from storming out. “We’re not done talking to you anyway.” She directed her toward the spot she’d just vacated on the couch. “Please sit down.”
Angelina’s eyes were the size of saucers. “Are you kidding me?” She moved to jerk her arm away from Zoe but the mage held tight. “Let me go.”
“No.” Zoe was calm as she tossed the invitation to me. “I have a few questions.”
“Well, I don’t have to provide answers,” Angelina shot back. “Last time I checked, this is a free country, which means I’m allowed to go wherever I want, and answer whatever questions I want. I most certainly don’t want to answer your questions.”
“Then you’re going to have a rough visit.” Zoe used her magic to bend Angelina’s knees and send her careening into the couch. Angelina made a gasping sound and looked toward Aric for explanation but the shifter was calm, collected, and cold.
“What’s happening?” Angelina was breathless.
“We’re having a discussion,” Zoe replied, gesturing toward the invitation. “When were you assigned this party?”
“You don’t get assigned a party. Have you ever even had a party?” She disparagingly looked Zoe up and down, briefly allowing her fear to show before shuttering it. “I’m betting you’re not on a lot of guest lists.”
“You might be wrong there,” Aric countered, his eyes slanted thoughtfully. “What are you thinking, baby?”
“I’m thinking that Adam Grimaldi only decided to throw this party today,” Zoe replied, hunkering down so she was at eye level with a glaring Angelina. “I’m thinking the party is a cover for something.”
“What?” I asked, genuinely curious. “What do you think he’s covering for?”
“That’s a very good question.” Zoe rested her hands on her knees and stared into a frightened Angelina’s eyes. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. Which do you prefer?”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Angelina hissed. “What do I want to do the easy way?”
“You can answer our questions honestly or I can get the answers another way.”
“What questions? I don’t know what you’re even asking.”
The sound of footsteps on the floor had Zoe sliding her eyes to the door, where Sami stood with Redmond and Braden. The teenager looked confused by the turn of events. “What’s happening?”
Zoe was calm. “This is Angelina Davenport. Apparently she’s the devil in polyester.”
“She looks like she wants to be a Kardashian,” Sami intoned. “We should probably kill her now. She’s obviously evil.”
Mirth glinted in the depths of Zoe’s eyes but she didn’t immediately speak.
“How did she even get in here?” Braden queried, moving closer to me. His eyes automatically drifted to the invitation. “What is that?”
“Adam Grimaldi is hosting a party,” I volunteered. “Your father is invited.”
“Technically that’s an open invitation for multiple family members,” Zoe countered, her gaze back on Angelina. “There’s no limit.”
“So what?” Angelina was beside herself. “Last time I checked, inviting everyone in a family was simply good manners.”
“Not in families with this sort of social standing.” Zoe was matter-of-fact. “Honestly, I think the entire thing screams ‘we’re coming to get you.’ I mean, they’re not even being subtle about it.”
“Subtle about what?” Angelina snapped. “What are we supposed to be subtle about?”
Zoe wet her lips. “Okay, here’s the thing: I’m tired. It’s already been a long day. This invitation is clearly a message of some sort. We need to figure out the message. You’re going to help us whether you like it or not.”
“Just threaten to take away her padded bra,” Sami suggested. “I bet she folds like Dad trying to hold tough when you do that breathy whispering thing right before bed that you guys don’t think I know about.”
Zoe pinned her offspring with a quelling look. “Come up with a real torture suggestion or go back to playing with your friends.”
Angelina’s mouth dropped open. “Torture? You can’t possibly be considering torturing me.”
“We’re not considering it,” Aisling reassured her. “We’ve already agreed it’s a good idea. We took a silent vote and you lost. Now you’re stuck with the consequences of your actions.”
“No,” Angelina sputtered. “You can’t torture me. It’s ... gross and mean.”
“I’m
