The Loki character was not a part of the festivities. As far as she could tell, the dreaded Compton Neanderthals didn’t know who Loki was, yet they didn’t boot him from the party either. That was downright odd—the over privileged southern royalty could not abide by people who they could not vouch for. So far, Loki just lurked in the corners, watching her every move. He spoke with no one, though he did occasionally show up near her to growl when some drunken lout got too close. Which was often. Rainey should’ve been thoroughly creeped out. Why would some guy who looked like he did come to her dinky apartment on the wrong side of town to escort her to a party? To work—in a limo. And who the hell had sent him? She would’ve thought maybe it was an elaborate Christmas gift, only she didn’t know anyone with the kind of money that could pull that off. No one who looked at her as anything more than the help, anyway. So who was this guy, and what did he really want? It would probably be a wise idea to ditch him before she got off, which looked to be hours away.
