You opened your mouth to answer—something smug, probably, something about how you were smarter than Lincoln gave you credit for—

The voice cut through the noise like a blade through silk.

But you were faster. You ducked left, disappearing into the sea of bodies, weaving through dancers and drunks, heading for the back exit. The fire exit. The one you'd scoped out the moment you walked in.

His voice was in your ear now, low enough that only you could hear it. You didn't even get a chance to respond before his other arm hooked under your knees and you were airborne, stomach pressed against his shoulder, the world spinning upside down.