Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
She was lost to me, but I couldn’t let her go. Even after the staff at the hospital, regardless of my fragile state of mind, pressed very strongly for me to make the opposite decision, I refused.
Very few shifters made this choice, so truly, I was surprised how hard my doctor and nurse pushed it.
“Laura?” Gayle asked, concern in her voice.
Okay, I was freaking about being out in the world. I’d successfully avoided this by having food delivered and avoiding the Subterra and Monorails, instead springing for private crafts to take me when I hung out with Cat, Gayle, Monique (or any combo of the three).
Sometimes I’d have to hit a work meeting, but since the current gig I was on hadn’t started production yet, and wouldn’t for at least a few more weeks, I hadn’t had to worry too much about that.
I’d hit the corner shop, of course, but Mr. Tanugu was more of a father to me than my own, so that didn’t seem like a big adventure or any threat, but instead like going to my pop’s, having a gab at the same time buying bananas.
Therefore, this reaction was not a shocker. I should have planned for it. The last time I was out in the world, truly out in the world, I’d been brutally assaulted. So brutally, defying my control, my beast had torn out to defend me.
And she had died for me.
So of course, this wouldn’t be easy.
“You all right?” Catla inquired.
“Do not walk back through the tube,” the bot ordered. “Forward only, into the club.”
“Just go,” I whispered to Catla. “I’ve got this.”
Cat scanned my face. Then, wearing a worried expression, she glanced over my shoulder at Gayle.
“Go. Let’s get her a drink,” Gayle urged.
Cat nodded, and with one last study of me, she turned and moved through the tube.
I stepped into it and slowly did the same, that feather-flutter coming back, and getting stronger.
I loved it and hated it because I missed it with all that was me, but I knew it wasn’t back. It was just panic and an illusion.
By Lilith, this was torture.
The flush had also returned to my skin, and by the time I made the end of the tube, I felt short of breath.
Right.
What was wrong with me?
I was stronger than this, surely.
Yes, I was.
I squared my shoulders.
The club lay before me, and I wanted to take it in, but instinctively, I stepped aside so Gayliliel could join us, and my eyes went directly to a half-circle booth, the one dead center of a line of them that covered the back wall.
The lighting was dim, but I noted five people sitting in that booth. The ones around the edges of the group were illuminated (two females, two males). But the being at the back, I could only make out he was male (not to mention the well-cut suit on his obviously well-honed body), but I couldn’t make out his face. He was obscured by shadow.
I strained to see him, I just couldn’t.
However, I could make out the fact that his head was turned in my direction, and I could swear he was looking at me.
Actually, it felt like we’d locked eyes, and he couldn’t only see me, he could see inside me.
That was when every inch of my body started tingling.
By the gods, I was totally losing it.
I had to pull myself together.
With effort I wrenched my attention from that booth in order to scan the club.
This section of the P&B couldn’t be more different than the loud, lively, energetic vibe of the Pink Room.
In Pink, there was always a crush of people. There was a dance floor that was constantly heaving. The music was deafening and physical, thumping into your skin with each beat. Drinks were expensive and mostly came in lurid colors and deadly concoctions.
Here, the music was a vague, sensual throb. Everything was black. The elegant but comfortable furniture that made up the many seating areas in the center space, like it was one gigantic living room; the bar stools that lined the bar; even the shelves of booze and mirrors behind the bottles of liquor. Small, onyx-shaded lamp drones hovered over tables and above thoroughfares, genius in their placement and illumination. Just enough to see, not enough to expose.
Most every seat was filled, the hum of conversation subdued, as if the entirety of the company was talking in whispers, but it wasn’t crowded.
It was elegant, refined, minimal yet sumptuous.
For a person with my disposition, it was so much better than the Pink Club, it was startling. If it didn’t cost a fortune, I’d happily be here on the regular, chatting with my chicks, drinking fun drinks, and hoping Cat ran into someone she could love with all her heart, who loved her that way in return.