Then she noticed something. When the boy holding the door let go, it had swung almost shut—but not quite.
Can I do it? Maybe. If I look confident. I'd haveto walk right in as if I belonged, not hesitate.
And hope she doesn't notice. Then get behindher. See if shetalksto anybody, what she says…
The laughing girls had caught the elevator. Maggie walked straight up to the door and, withoutpausing, she pushed it open and went inside.
Look confident, she thought, and she kept ongoing, instinctively moving toward a side wall. Herentry didn't seem to have caused a stir, and it waseasier than she'd thought to walk in among these strangers. The apartment was very dark, for onething. And the music was medium loud, and everybody seemed to be talking.
The only problem was that she couldn't see Sylvia. She put her back to the wall and waited forher eyes to adjust.
Not over there-not by the stereo. Probably inone of the bedrooms in back,changing.
It was as she moved toward the little hallwaythat led to the bedrooms that Maggie really noticedthe strangeness. Something about this apartment,about this party… was off. Weird. It gave her thesame feeling that Sylvia did.
Danger.
This place is dangerous.
Everybody there was so good-looking—or elseugly in a really fashionable way, as if they'd juststepped off MTV. But there was an air about themthat reminded Maggie of the sharks at the SeattleAquarium. A coldness that couldn't be seen, onlysensed.
There is something so wrong here. Are they alldrug dealers or something?Satanists?Some kindof junior mafia? They just feel so evil….
Maggie herself felt like a cat with all its fur standing on end.
When she heard a girl's voice coming from thefirst bedroom, she froze, hoping it was Sylvia.
"Really, the most secret place you've ever imagined." It wasn't Sylvia. Maggie could just see thespeaker through the crack in the door. She waspale and beautiful, with one long black braid, andshe was leaning forward and lightly touching theback of a boy's hand.