Florence shook her head. “I don’t know, Medra. Highbloods and blightborns don’t usually, well, party together. We might work side by side and be close colleagues, but we don’t really socialize except on special occasions.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, maybe it’s time that changed. Theo obviously thinks so.”

“Theo is a bit of an outlier, even among his own group,” Florence said, echoing my impression of him. “I just hope...” She trailed off.

“What?” I stopped walking. “You hope he isn’t pranking us?”

She nodded, looking uncomfortable.

“Fair enough.” I took a deep breath. “Maybe this was a bad idea. We can go back.”

The wine we drank had left us nicely buzzed but now the effects were fading.

“No.” Florence shook her head stubbornly. “Don’t listen to me. I’m being silly. We should go. I should be honored that you thought of inviting me.”

I laughed and put my arm through hers. “Now you’re truly being silly. You’re my friend. Who else would I invite? I would have invited Naveen, too, if he wasn’t asleep already. I’m just glad you were brave enough to come along.”

“Speaking of bravery...” Florence bent down and reached under her skirt.

“Florence!” I said in delight as she pulled out a metal flask. “You naughty girl.”

“I had it strapped to my thigh,” she said, giggling. “I read about a girl doing it in a book once.”

“Just what kinds of books do you read for fun, Florence?” I opened the flask and took a swig, then sputtered. Rum. Strong stuff, too.

Florence took the flask back and downed some of the rum. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Better. Much better.

“Who knows what will happen tonight?” I said playfully. “Perhaps we’ll find you a...” I paused. “Boy? Girl? I’m not sure what your preferences are. I never even thought to ask if you had a sweetheart already.”

Even in the starlight, I could tell she was blushing wildly. “I’m not. I mean, I don’t. I mean...” She took a breath. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Not really. But boys. Men, I mean. I think I prefer men.” She looked at me dubiously. “Though they are awfully stupid at times.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “But there’s just something about them...”

We sighed and kept walking across the beach, still arm in arm.

“Maybe we’ll find you a nice boy at this party,” I suggested. “Someone sweet who loves books and loves to study. Someone whose favorite place is the library.”

Florence snorted. “Fat chance we’ll find someone like that here.”

“Hey, he might have a little wild side. After all, it turns out, so do you.” I nudged her playfully. “That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?” I tried to wink at her but ended up blinking both my eyelids instead. We burst out laughing.

“Just how strong was that rum?” I managed to finally say, once I’d gotten my laughter under control.

But Florence had halted and was looking ahead of us with a dubious expression.

We’d reached the edge of the party. The bonfire light shimmered over the sand. If we took another step forward, we’d be within the circle of its glow.

“I don’t see any other blightborns,” Florence whispered.

I followed her gaze.

The party seemed to be in full swing. I could hear music and saw some highblood students dancing near the flames. Others lounged on the sand, sipping from flasks or bottles of wine.

The crowd around the bonfire was almost entirely vampires.

I scanned the group quickly a second time and realized there were in fact a few other mortals besides Florence and I.

But they seemed to be thralls.

They sat in the laps of highbloods or lay beside them in the sand, their necks tilted back, exposing their throats to the waiting mouths of the vampires who held them close.

I watched a dark-haired girl tip her head back as a highblood boy sank his fangs into her neck. The scene was both strangely seductive and deeply disturbing. She didn’t resist. In fact, she seemed almost blissful, her eyes half-closed as the highblood boy drank his fill from her veins.

Sickened yet fascinated, I watched as the vampire slowly pulled away from her, his lips stained red with blood. The thrall’s head lolled to the side, a faint smile on her lips.

My stomach turned. This is what we were to the highbloods in the end. This is all we were. Food.

I needed to make sure I never forgot that.

Even if Florence and I weren’t thralls, we were still mortals in a world dominated by these creatures.

I felt the weight of danger. The sense of being prey.

We’d been wrong to come here.

I suddenly thought of Florence being enraptured and subdued by one of the highbloods and a chill crept up my spine. Would she be flattered to be chosen? Would she be willing?

How did the thralls even sustain friendships with other blightborns when they were in such parasitic relationships with vampires? Were they looked down upon? Or envied? There were so many questions I hadn’t thought to ask, so many things about this world I realized I still didn’t know. I knew it was an honor to be a student at Bloodwing. Was it an honor to be a thrall?

Florence seemed frozen by my side. She had seen the thralls, too. “I think some of them are sellbloods,” she whispered.

“What’s that?”

“They’re...”

“Medra!”  There was a high-pitched hoot of laughter.

For a second, I thought it was Theo. Hoped it was Theo.

My heart sank as I saw who was coming across the sand towards us.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Regan Pansera moved towards us with the grace of a cat. She wore a slinky dress of some half-sheer red material that hugged her slender form. Her hair was up in a high, sleek ponytail. She lifted one hand gracefully to tuck back a wayward silver strand, never taking her eyes off us.

She was smiling. Like a cat that’d found a mouse.

“I had no idea you’d be here tonight,” Regan preened. “Oh, look, you’ve brought another little blightborn girl with you. Who is your friend?”

“Regan, meet Florence Shen,” I said stiffly. “Florence, this is Regan Pansera.”

“I know who you are,” Florence said softly. “Pleased to meet you, Regan.”

I could feel Florence’s anxiety, her discomfort, and was racked with guilt for having brought her here. Why had I thought this might be fun? I’d been bored and restless, so I’d thought, why not?

But Regan Pansera was the “why not?”

The only consolation I had was that I hadn’t seen Blake anywhere in the crowd.

“Who are you talking to, Regan?”

Three more highblood girls lurched towards us, rather unsteady on their feet. Clearly they’d had a lot to drink already.

One of the girls had blood rimming her mouth. She looked at me drunkenly. “Are these your new thralls, Regan?”

“My thralls?” Regan laughed sharply. “I should think not. You know House Drakharrow keeps its own thralls. The cleanest, most refined blood we can find. I have no need to keep my own.”

The implication was that our blood was polluted somehow. Not pure enough for Regan to drink. I gritted my teeth but said nothing. Debating whether my blood would taste good to a highblood was not an argument I had any intention of getting into.

“But a thrall can bring other conveniences,” one of the other girls purred. “Other pleasures. It’s so easy when you have one bound to you. Waiting for you in your room at the end of each day.”

Regan tossed her head. “Yes, well, I have Blake, don’t I? I don’t need some commoner to keep me warm.”

I felt an unexpected wave of distaste at the idea that Blake was the one keeping her warm. Did he wait for her in her room after school, waiting to peel her slinky dress off?

I shifted on my feet, curling my toes into the sand.

One of the girls suddenly clapped her hands over her mouth. “By the Bloodmaiden. That girl’s hair is red.”