by Amy Patrick
“Wait… why are you out here? What’s going on in there? With the show?” I asked.
He waved a hand at the club wall as if the show no longer mattered. “Drum solo. Rolf is having the time of his life. You okay to walk?” He pulled me against his side and began leading me toward the front of the club. “We’d better get back in there, before—”
“What’s going on out here?” a harsh female voice demanded.
Lifting my heavy head from Nox’s shoulder, my eyes met the glare of Amalia. She was flanked by several podettes, all of them wide-eyed at the unconscious man behind me and the sight of Nox’s bloody knuckles.
“I can’t believe you left during a set,” she scolded him. “And got in a fight? What were you thinking?”
His face molded into a sarcastic mask. “Well, let me see, Amalia—I guess I was thinking one of my girls was about to get raped in an alleyway and that perhaps that wouldn’t be a positive thing.”
“What’s so special about this one?” She looked down her nose at me, her eyes sparking with suspicion.
Nox raised his voice. “Nothing. It’s just I don’t like some asshole thinking he can take what’s mine. And they’re all mine.” He reached out and drew a girl with a high ponytail to his side, draping a long arm over her shoulders. “What’s the point of having my own fan pod if I have to share my girls with some roofie-pushing frat boy?”
Looking somewhat mollified, Amalia relaxed her posture. “Well, I know you’re new to this, but it’s not your job to keep up with them. Leave that to me—you take care of the music—let me take care of your girls.”
“Well then take care of them,” he growled. He shoved me into her arms and strolled toward the club’s entrance, dropping his hand to ponytail-girl’s behind for a frisky squeeze. She laughed and looked up at him in delighted surprise.
I dropped my gaze and allowed Amalia to lead me back into the club. She somehow found a vacant spot on a bench and steered me into it. Chucking me under the chin to raise my face, she stared directly into my eyes and said, “You will stay here and not move until I tell you to.”
“Yes,” I said, hoping that was the appropriate response to her obvious attempt to glamour me.
A few minutes later, Gigi appeared with a bottle of water. “Here. Amalia said you’re supposed to drink this. Are you okay? What happened out there?”
“Nothing. Nothing happened.” But something could have. I shuddered, suddenly cold inside the hot nightclub.
It occurred to me the Dark Elves and their schemes were not the only evil to be found here in the big city. I’d been so eager to get away from Nox’s glamour I’d placed myself smack in the path of a dangerous human.
Who would’ve thought I’d be better off with Nox than without him?
Chapter Thirteen
News From Home
“Where am I? What’s happening?” I bolted forward in my seat and looked around me wildly, clutching my belly at a sudden wave of nausea.
“You’re okay. You’re on the bus. You dozed off.”
Gigi’s voice from beside me pulled me back to reality. I collapsed back into my seat, trying to relax. My heart was on a spinning hamster wheel, and I was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. High blood pressure made my eyes feel like they were about to pop.
“How long was I out?”
“About half an hour. We’re almost home. What did you smoke with that guy?” Gigi didn’t sound disapproving, only curious.
“What?” I jerked my head around to face her, triggering a fresh sickening wave. “I didn’t smoke anything.”
“Oh.” She nodded with a perceptive look. “He buy you a drink?”
“A beer.”
“Yep. He probably slipped some keta in there—or a roofie—but I think if it was that, you wouldn’t have woken up for a while yet.”
“What’s keta?”
“Ketamine. Another date rape drug. It’s used in emergency rooms, but I know some kids who use it as a club drug. It comes in a powder for smoking. But it also comes in a liquid. I’ll bet he put a dose in your beer. It works fast, but it wears off pretty fast, too. By the way, you shouldn’t drink anything in a club you didn’t buy and open yourself… or get from me.” She grinned.
“Now you tell me.” I sighed. I closed my eyes again and tried to do some heart-slowing, stomach-calming deep breathing, attempting to picture the serene woods surrounding Grandma Neena’s log house. I missed home desperately. In my mind, I walked the paths of her land, sunlight peeping through the leafy canopy above me, the trickling music of a natural spring emptying into a crystal clear pool nearby.
It was working until the watery melody somehow segued into a guitar riff, and my peaceful mental getaway brought me full circle back to the Viper Room where the last scene I’d witnessed was Nox and the guys standing in front of the adoring crowd, accepting their applause at the end of their final set.
One of the pod girls, overcome with excitement, had jumped up onto the stage and hugged Nox. With a wolfish grin, he’d asked her, “What’s your name sweetheart?”
“Robin,” she’d breathed into the mic.
“Come here, Robin.” And he’d pulled the girl against him and kissed her mouth hard and long and with a level of enthusiasm that could have left no doubt in Amalia’s mind—or anyone else’s for that matter—he was more than happy to spread himself around when it came to his fan pod. We were all special to him… for a few minutes.
Whatever. So far this whole thing had been a big fat bust. What did I even think I was doing here? I’d nearly gotten myself assaulted tonight. I was no closer to finding Emmy. I was completely out of my element and inadequate for the task. If I did have any glamour, I wasn’t sure how to use it or whether empathy could even be useful.
I would have to ask Grandma about her gifts, and I felt a sudden, desperate desire to talk to my mom. I missed them both terribly. Daddy, too.
I needed to hear a friendly voice, to talk to someone I could actually trust. For the thousandth time, I wished Lad had found it in his heart to come to L.A. with me and help me find Emmy. But then, I guessed he wasn’t someone I could count on anymore, either.
After my roommates fell asleep around three o’clock, I waited a few extra minutes then crept to our door and out into the hall. I felt like a ghost, slipping through the dark hallways in my short white nightgown, the only sleepwear I’d brought on this trip.
Once I made it to the back door and out onto the deck, I sat on the warm wood with my back against the house and gazed out at the rolling waves. They looked almost black in the moonlight.
Glancing up at the darkened windows along the back of the house, I hoped Amalia was sleeping, too. Where were her quarters? Hopefully nowhere nearby. Nox had told me the mansion had two master suites, so I assumed she’d taken one of them. The other was his of course.
Because I’d arrived here separately from the other pod girls sans-glamour, I’d been able to bring my own phone, which I’d been keeping powered off and hidden in a pocket of my overnight bag to avoid detection. Now I turned it on and dialed our home number. It was three hours later in Mississippi—early morning her time—and Grandma Neena was an early riser. At least I hoped she was awake. I really needed to talk to someone.
“Ryann? Ryann honey, I’m so glad to hear from you,” she said as soon as she’d picked up the phone.
I smiled, feeling tears spring up in my eyes. “Hi Grandma. It’s good to hear your voice, too. How are you?”
“Well, I’m just fine, honey. My garden’s looking good, and things are starting to really come together at the factory for Magnolia Sugar Tea.”
“That’s good,” I said without much enthusiasm.
“You sound upset. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Well, honestly, a lot of things. I haven’t found Emmy yet, and I’m homesick. And…” I almost got date raped tonight. “I feel… really alone.” My voice cracked on the last word, making me sound like a bereft nine year old.
<
br /> “Aw, darlin’. I’m sorry. Isn’t Nox helping you?”
“Not yet. I’m not sure if he knows how to. And they’re keeping him really busy with all the music stuff. I don’t know… maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Don’t give up yet honey. Give Nox a chance. He said it might take time, didn’t he?”
He had, but I wasn’t sure how much I could believe of what Nox said. He’d also said he wasn’t into the fan pod thing and was only doing it to help me, but he’d certainly seemed into it tonight up on the stage with Robin.
“Is Mom up yet?”
“Actually… she’s not here. She spent the night with Davis.”
Something in her tone made me probe further. “Is something going on?”
“Well, I’ll let her tell you. But maybe you should call your daddy today. I bet he’d love to hear from his girl.”
Uh oh. Something was definitely going on. “Grandma… tell me.”
“Well… she and Davis are pretty serious, and I guess they’re ready to… make things official.”
“Oh my God. Is she engaged?”
“Like I said, darlin’, talk to her—it’s her news to share.”
“All right. I’m gonna get off the phone and call Daddy before he goes to work. I don’t get that much phone time here. Oh wait—I wanted to ask you about your glamour. What kind do you have? What’s your… specialty or whatever?”
“Oh. I didn’t expect that one. It’s emotional acuity, some call it empathy. Why?”
“Yeah. I figured. Do you think I have any?”
“I certainly do. You’ve been highly attuned to other people’s feelings since you were a bitty thing—your parents were always commenting on it. Of course neither one of them knew it was glamour.”
“Do you have… any other ones?”
“Well, no. We only have one each, generally.”
“But it’s possible to have more than one?”
“Why are you asking about this now?”
“Well, Nox seems to think my glamour is Sway—persuasion, you know? But how’s that possible if our family line has empathy?”
Silence on the other end of the connection made me wonder if our call had been lost. “Grandma? You still there?”
“Yes. Yes, I was just thinking—I have seen a few instances where someone might end up with more than one glamour strength. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what develops for you. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be clear to you when the time is right.”
“Okay, well I’m going to call Daddy—”
“Ryann?”
“Yes?”
“There’s one more thing—I’m not sure if I should say anything…”
“Well, you’ve already started—so tell me.”
There was a long pause—I guess she was still uncertain. “I talked to Lad, honey.”
A sinking feeling pulled at me, making my head heavy and my lungs labor for enough breath to respond. “When… what did he say?”
“I went to Altum to visit my family last night. I saw him there… with Vancia… the girl he—”
“I know who she is.”
“Well, I guess the wedding is back on.”
Now the whirling, sinking feeling was a full-blown cyclone. I’d known Lad was out of my life. But this—this was it—forever—for good. Clenching my jaw and squeezing my eyelids together, I tried not to picture Lad’s beautiful bride, but there she was, in all her platinum-haired, luminous Elven glory.
After a long silence on the line, Grandma finally spoke again. “I’m sorry, honey. I thought you might need to hear that. Should I not have told you?”
“No. You were right—I… I think I did need to hear it. I’m glad you told me.”
“You’re going to be okay, Ryann. Things will work out as they’re supposed to.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I miss you. Love you.”
“Love you, too, darlin’.”
I sat with the phone in my lap for a few minutes, listening to the surf stirring the sand beyond the deck, and considered not calling my dad after all. I didn’t really want to talk anymore. In fact, I didn’t feel like doing anything at all. Maybe I could stay here forever and grow into the deck like a barnacle. Finally, I did dial his number—Grandma had hinted he wasn’t doing well and that I should check on him.
Rather than lifting my spirits, the phone call with Daddy left me even more depressed. He didn’t tell me outright that Mom and Davis were engaged, but he was so morose I couldn’t draw any other conclusion.
“I shouldn’t have left,” he kept saying. “I should have stayed and worked things through. That way she never would have even run into him. She would never have seen him again.”
He was rambling, and he sounded like he might have been hung over—maybe even still drinking at six a.m. I felt horrible for him. I could relate to the near delirium being finally-and-forever dumped could bring on. I’d barely been able to breathe, much less think straight after Lad had broken things off with me for good.
And it didn’t matter if it was somehow “for the best”—which was debatable—because in those moments, you don’t really care. You don’t even want what’s best. You just want the person you love back.
“I can’t believe I’ve really lost her,” he sobbed.
“I wish I could help somehow,” was all I could think to say. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault honey,” he slurred. Yep, definitely drinking. “I never blamed you. You couldn’t help it—you were only a baby.”
“What?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.
There was a pause. “I said there’s nothing you can do to help it, baby. Listen, I should get off the phone. I’ve got to call in sick to work, and I’m in no shape to be talking to you. I’m a big downer right now, and you should be enjoying your trip. I’ll talk to you in a few days, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, further saddened by his attempt to lift his tone and sound more cheerful. I was also reluctant to hang up and leave him to wallow alone. “Bye, Daddy. Love you. Get some sleep.”
I turned the phone off and sat for a few more minutes, tilting my head toward the night sky and letting the ocean breeze blow across my tear-streaked cheeks. What a mess my life was. I slipped through the French doors back into the house.
“Oh! You startled me.”
One of Nox’s servants, a super tall guy all the pod girls called Groot because he never spoke, stood right inside the doorway as if he’d been waiting for me.
Dang. I didn’t even realize anyone knew I was outside. But he didn’t seem alarmed or even concerned. Maybe he was off duty from being Amalia’s lackey tonight.
Groot lifted his palm, presenting me with a folded sheet of white notepaper. I took it and opened it. It was a message signed by Nox.
Chapter Fourteen
Midnight Snack
We need to talk. Please come to my suite. Ewan will lead you.
Okay, so Groot’s real name is Ewan. And he was Nox’s lackey, not Amalia’s. I padded silently after him down the wide, airy hallway, conscious of every closed door we passed. Doors that could open at any moment, exposing me and my destination to anyone who might get up for a drink of water or a midnight snack. Or a late night tryst.
They would certainly assume that was what I was up to. And they’d assume I was Nox’s midnight snack, since I was being escorted by one of his personal bodyguards. The gleaming polished stone was cool under my bare feet, but the rest of me was growing hotter by the minute. Why would Nox summon me—in the middle of the night—to his suite, the master suite, in every possible meaning of the term?
When we reached the huge double doors at the end of the hall, Ewan stepped to the side and took his position opposite the guard who already stood flanking the other side. Neither of them looked at me—they were probably so used to this routine they didn’t even blink an eye. Another night, another babe. Or more likely, another hour, another babe.
I raise
d my hands to push at the doors, but they opened on their own, swinging slowly inward to reveal a glimpse of Nox’s private quarters, a place I’d never seen and had tried not to wonder about.
And out stepped Robin, the kissy-face chick from on stage at the club tonight.
Well.
Nox was taking this spreading it around thing very seriously. He even kept up the “ruse” inside his private quarters. When she saw me, Robin’s eyelids flared and she lifted her chin, turning to look toward the opposite wall of the hallway as she passed me.
Okay. It was like that then. I was actually glad she hadn’t said anything. What—were we going to chat like shift workers clocking in and out?
I stood outside the threshold of Nox’s suite. How was I supposed to go in there after seeing her walk out? I felt like a piece of fresh meat being delivered to the lion while he was still licking his chops from the last meal.
But then that wasn’t what I was here for. I was here because I’d been summoned by “the boss” and had to keep up appearances. And Nox had said he wanted to talk to me—about what I wasn’t sure. Maybe about the near-assault he’d rescued me from earlier. Considering that, I did owe him at least a civil conversation.
Besides, why should I care what he’d been doing with his evening while I’d been sharing a woozy bus ride with my fellow podsters and talking to my family on the phone? It wasn’t my business.
I stepped inside. The doors closed behind me with a click that seemed deafening to my hyper-alert ears in the comparative silence of the room. Nox was nowhere in sight. I did see an enormous fireplace set into a stone wall. Inside it, a fire glowed and colored the surrounding area a soft orange. The sofa and chairs clustered around it were all white, like the luxurious sheepskin rug on the floor in front of it. I snickered. I’ll bet that rug’s seen plenty of action.
Turning away before I could form any further mental images along those lines, I searched the room. Where the heck was he?
“Ryann…” The sound of my name was soft as a whisper, drawn out in a lilting melody that pulled my attention to a pair of balcony doors across the room, standing wide open to the night.