be vamp bait.
When we finally arrive at the club, we decide to enter in stages. Luke, then Noah after a few minutes, while I wait, trying not to shiver in the car that’s quickly getting colder. I’m sure they’re busy scouting the place, getting a feel for how this Andrew works, but I can’t help but worry that they were ambushed and are dead in a bathroom already.
My phone vibrates in my purse and I pull it out, relieved to see the all clear from Noah. I should have known they’d be ok. Just as I’m putting my phone away, it vibrates again. Another text. This one from Luke.
I found him. Second floor. Zoe? Be careful. He’s not alone.
Chapter Eight
Well, what the hell does that mean? I wait for my phone to go off again, wait for Luke to give me more information. Nothing. Nada. I even text him back and wait, but as the goosebumps start to prickle over my skin and my phone continues to be silent in my hand, I just give up and head on in. Luke’s either being a jerk or he has a good reason for being so dramatic. Either way, I can’t expect much help from him.
As I push through the doors of Pulse, it’s everything I thought it would be. All smooth lines and subtle lighting. Comfy chairs and well stocked bars. The music is inviting but not obtrusive and the dance floor just begs to be used. Which it most definitely is. It’s throbbing with bodies, all encased in high fashion clothing and expensive hair. I’m glad I used magic on mine, I don’t think I could have done it well enough to fit in otherwise.
I scan the place, looking for the stairs. What’s up there? Will I look out of place wandering up there, a girl all alone and there’s nothing but a private party or something? I decide to grab a drink before I head up, just in case I need an explanation if it turns out that the second floor is by invitation only. Gee mister, I’m sorry. This drink is just so strong . Teehee.
I thread my way through the crowd and have a moment to appreciate the design of the place. Pulse is packed. But the way they’ve laid out the tables and chairs makes it easy enough to navigate and I don’t have to turn sideways to push past someone even once. Not at all like Flannigan’s. Speaking of not at all like Flannigan’s, I’m thinking I should go with something a little more elegant than a beer, probably something with liquor in it in case I do need to use my too much to drink excuse. With the vamp’s increased sense of smell, I’m gonna need alcohol on my breath to add a layer of reality to my story.
I take a seat at the bar and realize that I have no idea what kind of drink to order. I could go with wine, but that gives me a headache and I’m already going to have one in the morning thanks to those two little zaps of energy I gave myself tonight. This is most definitely a conundrum.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
I’d been so busy studying the wall of bottles behind the bar that I didn’t notice the bartender watching me. I’m confused by her statement and I guess my face shows it.
She laughs a little and I find myself smiling despite my confusion. “The face you’re making” she says. “It doesn’t exactly say ‘having a great night at Pulse’.”
Now I’m smiling in earnest. “Oh, well …” I pause, wondering what to say and decide to go with the truth. “I’m trying to impress someone and want to look sophisticated and I don’t think a bottle of beer’s gonna do it.”
“Ahh.” She smiles knowingly and for just a second she reminds me of Becca. The old Becca. The one who was my friend. The one with gorgeous brown hair and a twinkle in her eye. “Well now things are starting to make sense.”
“Can you help me?”
“If I couldn’t, I’d be pretty bad at my job, now wouldn’t I?”
“That’s true.”
“Alright. Stand up. Let me look at you.” She makes a little shooing motion and then twirls her finger like she expects me to pivot
When we finally arrive at the club, we decide to enter in stages. Luke, then Noah after a few minutes, while I wait, trying not to shiver in the car that’s quickly getting colder. I’m sure they’re busy scouting the place, getting a feel for how this Andrew works, but I can’t help but worry that they were ambushed and are dead in a bathroom already.
My phone vibrates in my purse and I pull it out, relieved to see the all clear from Noah. I should have known they’d be ok. Just as I’m putting my phone away, it vibrates again. Another text. This one from Luke.
I found him. Second floor. Zoe? Be careful. He’s not alone.
Chapter Eight
Well, what the hell does that mean? I wait for my phone to go off again, wait for Luke to give me more information. Nothing. Nada. I even text him back and wait, but as the goosebumps start to prickle over my skin and my phone continues to be silent in my hand, I just give up and head on in. Luke’s either being a jerk or he has a good reason for being so dramatic. Either way, I can’t expect much help from him.
As I push through the doors of Pulse, it’s everything I thought it would be. All smooth lines and subtle lighting. Comfy chairs and well stocked bars. The music is inviting but not obtrusive and the dance floor just begs to be used. Which it most definitely is. It’s throbbing with bodies, all encased in high fashion clothing and expensive hair. I’m glad I used magic on mine, I don’t think I could have done it well enough to fit in otherwise.
I scan the place, looking for the stairs. What’s up there? Will I look out of place wandering up there, a girl all alone and there’s nothing but a private party or something? I decide to grab a drink before I head up, just in case I need an explanation if it turns out that the second floor is by invitation only. Gee mister, I’m sorry. This drink is just so strong . Teehee.
I thread my way through the crowd and have a moment to appreciate the design of the place. Pulse is packed. But the way they’ve laid out the tables and chairs makes it easy enough to navigate and I don’t have to turn sideways to push past someone even once. Not at all like Flannigan’s. Speaking of not at all like Flannigan’s, I’m thinking I should go with something a little more elegant than a beer, probably something with liquor in it in case I do need to use my too much to drink excuse. With the vamp’s increased sense of smell, I’m gonna need alcohol on my breath to add a layer of reality to my story.
I take a seat at the bar and realize that I have no idea what kind of drink to order. I could go with wine, but that gives me a headache and I’m already going to have one in the morning thanks to those two little zaps of energy I gave myself tonight. This is most definitely a conundrum.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
I’d been so busy studying the wall of bottles behind the bar that I didn’t notice the bartender watching me. I’m confused by her statement and I guess my face shows it.
She laughs a little and I find myself smiling despite my confusion. “The face you’re making” she says. “It doesn’t exactly say ‘having a great night at Pulse’.”
Now I’m smiling in earnest. “Oh, well …” I pause, wondering what to say and decide to go with the truth. “I’m trying to impress someone and want to look sophisticated and I don’t think a bottle of beer’s gonna do it.”
“Ahh.” She smiles knowingly and for just a second she reminds me of Becca. The old Becca. The one who was my friend. The one with gorgeous brown hair and a twinkle in her eye. “Well now things are starting to make sense.”
“Can you help me?”
“If I couldn’t, I’d be pretty bad at my job, now wouldn’t I?”
“That’s true.”
“Alright. Stand up. Let me look at you.” She makes a little shooing motion and then twirls her finger like she expects me to pivot
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