“Whatever you do, don’t lose me,” Drea said right before they rounded the corner and entered the club. Em nodded.
Then they were inside, and Em had never seen anything like it. The cavernous room was low-ceilinged and shadowy, and full of people. Enormous golden birdcages hung from the ceiling, but inside there were no birds. Instead, lazy, watchful snakes hung from golden rods in the cages, their forked tongues darting from their mouths, twisting and writhing as though in time to the music.
All across the dance floor men and women were gyrating to pulsing music. Others were drinking from a fountain shaped like some crazy hybrid creature—a nude woman with enormous talons. Her mouth was open, and green liquid was dripping from her tongue; people were filling their cups with it.
Chase had been right. The people in this club were some of the most beautiful people Em had ever seen in her life. Her eyes were drawn to bare-chested men with tattoos, and women in skimpy dresses with heavy, smoky eyes. She suddenly felt very young, very angular, and very afraid.
She crossed her arms. She could feel Drea shaking a bit next to her. She, too, looked suddenly young. The music was too loud to try to communicate out loud. Em pointed toward a long bar, which was—like everywhere else in the club—packed with people. They started to make their way over to it.
The beat seemed to come up through the floor, causing Em’s legs to vibrate, creating a slight sensation of vertigo. A hazy fog seemed to infiltrate every corner of the room—and every pore of Em’s skin. As she squeezed through the crowd she felt increasingly out of control, like she was being possessed by something outside of herself. Men stroked her body with their eyes, smiling at her knowingly. Women, too. She tried to keep her eyes fixed ahead of her, but she was growing increasingly flustered. Should they leave? She turned around to gauge Drea’s comfort level. Drea always knew what to do.
But Drea was no longer behind her.
Panicked, Em whirled around, searching for Drea’s purple hair. They’d gotten separated. It was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to happen.
She started pushing back toward the door. They were in over their heads. They had to get out of there.
And yet, despite her fear, the seductive mood in the room was seeping into Em’s blood, beating its rhythm deeper and deeper into her body. Her mind began to feel cloudy with the sweet-smelling smoke, and as her thoughts softened, her limbs loosened up. A man, heavily tattooed, grabbed her hand to lure her into a dance. She resisted at first. Drea. She had to find Drea.
But she was unable to stop herself; the hypnotic music was like the pull of an insistent tide. She let the man put his hand on her waist. She let him keep it there.
The music . . . whispering . . . calling out to her . . .
She put her hand on his muscled arm, touching his smooth skin, feeling like she was in a dream. She inhaled his musky smell. It felt so good just to let herself go. . . . She closed her eyes for just a minute, moving her hips to the beat, allowing him to press against her. . . .
When she opened her eyes, they woozily focused. And the first thing they saw with clarity was none other than Crow. There. Across the room, by the fountain. She caught a quick glimpse of his dark hair, his searching eyes, and then the crowd closed in again and he was gone.
But she’d seen him, she knew it. Her mind snapped back to alertness.
What the hell was he doing here? Had he followed her and Drea?
Drea.
She wrenched away from her dance partner and began to elbow her way over to the fountain. But by the time she reached the spot where she’d seen Crow, he was gone.
Tap, tap, tap. She felt a finger on her shoulder. She jumped and let out a little cry. But when she turned around, she saw it was only Drea.
“Where did you go?” Em shouted over the music. Instead of feeling relieved, she felt a surge of unreasonable anger. She knew it had something to do with guilt; she wondered whether Drea had seen her dancing.
“I lost you!” Drea yelled back.
Em pulled her into one of the nooks carved into the stone walls; their voices echoed there, but at least they could hear each other.
“Crow is here,” Em said, still speaking loudly. “I saw him, right over here.”
Drea looked skeptical. “Crow? Here? Are you sure?” She cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure that’s not just wishful thinking?” Even in this atmosphere, Drea obviously had not lost her grip on her special brand of humor, which largely seemed to consist of giving Em a hard time. Clearly, the smoke hadn’t gone to her head in the same way it had affected Em.
“Come on, Drea. Be serious,” Em said, shutting her down quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Drea to get the wrong idea about her and Crow. What if JD found out somehow?