Zeath’s shock at seeing me in the warehouse doesn’t show on his face, but I know he’s surprised.

Yet, I ask, “what are you doing here, Zeath?”

“I should be asking you the same,” Zeath mumbles, “weren’t you supposed to be with Chelsea?”

“Perfect,” the voice suddenly utters, “now that the party is complete, shall we eat?”

“Enough with the games,” Zeath says before reaching for me. He grabs my wrist. “You are leaving here Mellow. Come on.”

“No. I came here on ...