I rush into the coffee shop’s bathroom, trying to shove my premonition to the background. Not caring if anyone sees me, I strip off my leather jacket and ratty shirt, and I’m left in my black push-up bra. The mirror in front of me reflects a bleary-eyed girl with black hair matted to her head.
A twenty-something walks in and looks me up and down as if I’m infectious. If she only knew. She slips into a stall.
The sweet aroma of coffee and the hissing sound of an espresso machine pumping steam into milk gets through the door before it closes. The coffee shop was the most accessible place to do this, not to mention my need for a very strong dose of joe with lots of sugar. No way I’m going anywhere near that nightclub without some backup.
I throw the shirt in the garbage can—been meaning to do that, anyway—and put my jacket back on. I zip it but only to my breastbone, leaving what little cleavage there is exposed. Thank God for Victoria’s Secret. The bruises on my neck will just have to pass for hickeys. Leaning forward until my long hair hangs over my face, I work my fingers into it and muss it around for some much needed body.
I look up and check my efforts in the mirror. My leathers are tight-fitting and can pass for some Catwoman wannabe outfit—pretentious enough for a night out at the club. Not bad. As a final touch, I pinch my cheeks and wet my lips.
A toilet flushes and the woman walks out of the stall. When she sees me, she does a double take and raises her eyebrows. I smirk and walk out. Can’t wait until Xave sees me.
While I order a large iced coffee, I catch several looks. They’re all from yuppies pretending to stare at their drinks and looking mortified by the way their eyes have wandered to a not-yet-legal girl.
Amused by their discomfort, I dump ten packets of sugar in my coffee and guzzle it in a matter of seconds. I shake my head to dispel a sharp brain freeze, then dump the empty cup in the nearest bin. I square my shoulders and look out the window toward the club. I search the crowd until I spot a young guy standing alone.
“All right,” I say under my breath, then walk out and cross the street, my hips doing their best to keep up with the forced sashay that seems appropriate for the situation. I feel like a fool.
My breaths quicken as the buzzing inside my head deepens and the uneasy feeling doubles. I can only imagine how it’ll feel inside the nightclub, if I manage to get in.
Just breathe, Marci.
Breathe.
The premonition is no premonition at all, just nerves. The buzzing can’t hurt me. It’s annoying in a you-might-soon-be-a-monster kind of way, but I can handle it. I’ve done it before.
I plaster a smile on my face, hop on the sidewalk and head for my target. He’s looking straight ahead, fidgeting and getting on tiptoes to look at the front of the line. He seems nice and non-threatening in every imaginable way, especially since he is perfectly human. Most importantly, he’s alone. Just what I need to make the perfect couple.
With certainty, I can say the word “outgoing” has never been used to describe me. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I need to be right now, which seems about as creepy as turning into a full-blown Eklyptor.
“Hi, there,” I say as I sidle next to the guy. By my estimation, he’s over twenty-one years old, probably a college student out to have a good time. He wears glasses that make him look bookish and approachable.
His head snaps my way and he looks me up and down with wide, blue eyes. “Um, hi.”
“You, uh, have no chance of getting in, you know?” I smile.
Like I have a chance! They might find me too young and send me packing. I’m counting the buzzing will give me the edge I need. Also the fact that Aydan and Xave got through without problems is an encouraging sign.
“I don’t? Why not?” he asks a bit defensively, eyes widening behind his horn-rimmed glasses.
“Oh, nothing against you.” I flip my hair to the side. God, I feel so out of my element. “I don’t stand a chance either and I so want to get in.”
He gives me another once over.
“They’re letting in mostly couples,” I smile again, this time provocatively, I hope. I’ll need a good shower after this. How do women stand to act this way? How do men fall for it?
His eyebrows do this little wiggle that seems quite involuntary. “Well, then …” He crosses his arms, leans his weight on one leg and relaxes the other one. His smile twitches, then he nervously strikes a different pose. Man, his attempt to be smooth is more pathetic than mine and that’s saying a lot.
“Know what?” I say with a sigh. “Let’s just agree to help each other get in, okay? And FYI, I’d be helping you more than you would be helping me.”
“Oh, yeah? How do you figure?”
“Well, there’s a password and I know it.”
“Oh.” His shoulders drop about two inches.
“What do you say?”
“Yeah, sure.”
For some reason, he looks as if I just ruined his evening. I feel terrible, especially because he has no idea that, possibly, I’ve ruined more than just that.
Pretense gone, we take small steps as the line slowly moves forward. When it is our turn to face the bouncer, my heart begins to hammer in time with the bass thumping through the club’s entrance. I’ve never liked the song that is playing, but the bass house mix the DJ is working is a definite improvement.
The meathead looks me straight in the eye, not even acknowledging Mr. Smooth by my side. The man is unnaturally wide with a small head, ears the size of cashew nuts, and gloved hands. He leans into me and asks for the password with a simple nod.
“Hailstone Reign,” I say in a hushed tone that cracks at the end and might give me away. To make up for it, I add a smile. But my mouth trembles, so I press my lips together and eye my supposed pet human as if he’s a chunk of succulent meat I’m ready to devour.
The bouncer gives me a knowing nod and waves us in without a second look. I walk in, my heart slowing for only a fraction of a second, then speeding up again when my head explodes into a mad cacophony of dance beats and Eklyptor brainwaves. I have entered the mouth of the beast once more, this time fully aware of what I’m doing. I’m scared and can definitely say this is one of the dumbest things I’ve done, but I can’t let Xave go through this alone. This fight is also mine.
The world before me sways in blinding lights and smothers me in body heat. There are so many people inside I don’t see how I’ll be able to find anyone before I suffocate.
So much for rebelling.