Irena Kirk stared into the glass, the crimson streaks mirroring the decorations around the hall. The music pulsed, but she heard only silence. Each rotation of the mirrored ball brought another reflection—not of herself, but of something else. A flicker in the corner of her eye showed a figure moving beyond the skeletons, and Irena felt an icy dread creep up her spine. She wasn't alone here tonight, not truly. The hall was full of eyes, watching, waiting. And she knew, with chilling certainty, that they wanted more than just to dance.