Андреа Кремер - Nightshade

A gasp followed by several coughs came from my bedroom door. I turned to see Ansel, ashen-faced, staring at us from the doorway. I quickly buttoned my jacket, but his eyes were locked on Bryn.

“Are you feeling okay?” I frowned at my little brother.

Ansel seemed to have lost his ability to blink.

Bryn smiled at him. “What’s up, Cub Scout?”

“Come on, Bryn.” He kicked at the door frame. “I’m a sophomore now.”

“Yep, and we’re seniors. Which makes you a cub as far as I’m concerned.”

“Whatever. I just wondered when you guys were gonna be ready.” Ansel stared at his shoes. “Mason said he’d drive—his parents gave him the Land

Rover for the night. Fey is already at his house. He wants to know when he should pick us up.”

“Half an hour, tops,” I said. “Bryn, do you have fashion tips for my brother too?”

She wandered over to Ansel, who stood transfixed in the doorway. She tugged at the collar of his black silk shirt, deftly unfastened one button more than

Ansel had left open, and eyed his jeans critically. After a moment she smiled, patting his cheek.

“Nah, he’s adorable.”

Ansel swallowed and then bolted from the door frame.

“I’ll yell when Mason gets here!” he called without looking back.

The bouncer, a Titanesque Bane elder, took our names and jerked his thumb toward a stairway cordoned off from the main floor of the club.

“VIPs head upstairs.” His eyes were respectful but wary as they moved over our party.

“Thanks.” I led the Nightshades up the steel staircase to the second level of the warehouse-like club. Eden throbbed with a mix of industrial beats and dark trance. Humans packed the main dance floor, pulsing and swaying with the heavy bass. Bryn elbowed me. Compared to the other women in the room, I could have been mistaken for a nun.

“Are you going to say I told you so?” I glared at her as I pulled off my jacket, baring my arms, shoulders, and far too much else.

“I don’t think I have to.”

“You’re not gonna fall out of that, are you?” Ansel laughed.

“Shut up or I’ll make you wait in the car.”

Mason darted forward, wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and pecked me on the cheek. “You look fabulous. Ignore them—go forth and conquer.”

I squeezed his hand but wrinkled my nose when we reached the second floor. Mason frowned when he caught the scent in the same moment. We both glanced up at the ceiling. No less than six wraiths floated in and out of the scaffolding above us.

“Tight security,” he murmured.

“No kidding.” I fought to keep my eyes off the shadow guards who hovered fifteen feet over our heads.

Bryn flinched when she saw the dark figures skimming along the ceiling. Ansel twined his fingers through hers and tugged her forward.

“Come on, we’re on the list, right? Efron’s guests. No trouble.”

Bryn let my brother guide her onto the dance floor. Fey brought up the rear of our pack. Her lips half curled in a snarl as her gaze darted up at the wraiths. She took a few quick steps forward to catch us.

“So what do we do now?” she asked. “Just shut up and dance?”

I shook my head. “We need to find our hosts and thank them for inviting us.”

Fey put her hands on her hips. “You’re trying to kill me from prolonged Sabine exposure, aren’t you?”

“Just say hello. Then shut up and dance.”

“Deal.” She shook her red hair so that it fanned around her shoulders, making her look like a lioness.

The dance floor gleamed, shimmering colors running across the black surface like it was a pool of oil. Bodies pulsed, pressed together, in rhythm with the throbbing bass line that shook the entire club. A sleek silver bar extended along the far side of the room. Dark velvet couches ringed the dance floor.

Professional dancers, scantily clad and wielding whips, writhed on platforms scattered throughout the room. Broad, leathery wings sprouted from some of the dancers’ backs. Given Efron’s reputation, I couldn’t be sure if they were part of the dominatrix costumes or the real thing.

Most of the guests were Keepers. I saw Logan Bane dancing amid a crowd of his peers and, surprisingly, Lana Flynn. A few Bane Guardians, adults, stalked through the club, their eyes darting throughout the space, muscles tense.

Mason tightened his grip on my shoulder, steering me toward the bar. He walked confidently toward a young man who was laughing with the Bane

Guardian pouring shots behind the bar. The bartender looked as though he’d been molded into his clothes, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

Bryn leaned over, whispering in my ear. “Forget drinks. I’ll take a double of him.”

“Just behave.” I giggled.

“Hey, man,” Mason called, and Neville turned to face us, a wary smile sliding across his mouth.

If a band had been playing at Eden that night, I would have assumed Neville, dressed in a T-shirt and leather pants, was with them. I cast my eyes around, attempting to search the club in a casual manner. Neville watched me with a knowing smile.

“We have a table at the back,” he said softly. “He’s been waiting for you.”

Neville led us away from the dance floor to a secluded corner of the room where the young Banes lounged on couches. Cosette and Dax sat opposite

Ren. The alpha grinned at his packmates while one of the leather-clad dancers, draped across him like a cloak, nuzzled his neck. An unfamiliar, painful gnawing began in my stomach.

Bryn leaned into me. “I wouldn’t let a succubus get that close, if I were him.”

A shiver moved up my spine. She thinks the wings are real.

I looked closer and saw that the coquette whose lips were latched on Ren’s cheek did not have wings. She sat up, smiling at Ren, who glanced at her with a disinterested expression. My eyes widened. It was Sabine. I could barely recognize her in the mirror-shine black leather hip-huggers and studded bustier.

Fey coughed: “Slut.”

Bryn giggled. Ansel choked on his drink when he caught sight of Sabine.

“Hey, Ren.” Neville squeezed himself on the couch between Sabine and his pack leader. “Look who I found.”

A warm tremor bubbled up through my veins as Ren’s eyes moved over my corseted body.

I stole a glance at my newly generous curves. Maybe there’s something to this outfit after all.

“You guys look great.” He gestured to the couch where Dax and Cosette sat and the other, still-empty couch next to them. “Please join us.”

He turned to Neville and Sabine. “Make room for Calla.”

Sabine rose with some reluctance while Neville eyed the near-empty glasses on the table.

“Looks like you’re ready for another round anyway.” He looked at Mason. “Make a bar run with me?”

Mason shrugged, trailing after Neville. Dax frowned as he watched the two boys move off. I caught Fey eyeing Dax’s biceps and a smile twitched at the corner of my mouth.

Ansel took a seat on the empty couch, pulling Bryn along with him. Ren stretched his hand out to me. I hesitated but then took his fingers in my own, letting him draw me down onto the sofa next to him.

“Let me get that out of the way for you.” He took the jacket I’d slung over one arm and draped it along the back of the couch. From behind me I heard

Sabine sigh.

“I think there’s a platform missing its go-go dancer, Sabine.” Fey’s brutal tone cut through our courtesies.

“Play nice,” I growled.

“It’s fine.” Sabine held Fey in a steady gaze. “Talk bores me.” She glanced at Ren.

“Go dance,” he said. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

With a toss of her hair, which shone like vinyl under the flashing club lights, Sabine turned on a needle-sharp heel and trotted away.