Chapter 1
Lucien
“Why did I let you two talk me into this again?”
Dorian grins, actively ignoring my discomfort as he always does. “Come on, Luce; it’ll do you some good to loosen up. We haven’t seen each other much in months; you’re always busy. It’s not going to kill you to try to enjoy yourself.”
I scowl as Atlas claps a hand to my shoulder. “Hate to tell you this, L, but you need to get laid. There’s a stick so far up your ass, we might as well set you up in the field to scare off crows. There’s more to life than work, you know.”
As I shoot him a pointed glare he steps back, holding his hands up in surrender. Eventually I sigh, but stop protesting. The sooner I accept they aren’t going to let this go, the sooner I can call it a night.
If there’s one thing I hate worse than tax season, it’s fuckin’ night clubs. The heavy bass is already assaulting my ears from here and I can only imagine how much worse it’s going to be when we get inside.
“How are we supposed to find some random women in this hellhole?” I grimace with distaste.
Atlas laughs. “Finding random chicks isn’t the problem; it’s finding one in particular that actually wants to give you the time of day.” He pushes open the door, effectively ending the conversation since speech is beyond impossible in this noise.
Dorian, Atlas, and I work our way through the crowd gathered just inside the doors and off to the left where the bar stretches, encompassing the entire length of the wall. On the opposite side is a series of booths, most with drunk couples pawing at each other. In the center though, I must admit, I’m a bit impressed. It’s recessed down into the floor about two dozen steps, leaving the gyrating bodies contained in a pit. The far side of it ends in a stage raised halfway between the ground and our level where the DJ is working the crowd into a frenzy.
The lighting is fucking with my senses, a harsh contrast of darkness and strobe effects. It’s overwhelming to the utmost degree and I don’t see how anyone can actually enjoy this place; especially Dorian, with all of the drunken strangers stumbling into each other.
“Come on, let’s get this over with,” I sigh, trying to make the best of ‘guys night out’ as they insist on calling it.
We descend into the pit and I fight the urge to shove people aside as they keep bumping into me. Too many people, too much noise. The sensory overload is enough to give me a killer headache, and I’m already counting down the minutes until I can fake a call and bail. Bodies writhe and twist, grinding against each other shamelessly and tactlessly.
How’s anyone supposed to meet someone in this place? Atlas can’t possibly assume I’m going to just start pawing at some girl on the dance floor; there are laws against that.
I turn to search out the others, finding Atlas already caught up with some brunette and Dorian happily jumping in time to the music, merging into the crowd without missing a beat. Even though I ditched the suit for the evening, I feel just as out of place as if I hadn’t. I don’t belong here, in this place, with this crowd. They’re practically salivating at the prospect of plunging into life with reckless abandon, not giving a second thought to the fallout. They drink so they have an excuse not to take responsibility for their actions, to pawn off the blame on something besides themselves so they can do what they truly desire.
At least admit what you want to yourself, if no one else.
I just want to go home, finish the last few chapters of my book, and call it a night; to enjoy the silence and solitude. There’s just no appeal for me to drag meaningless drama into my life, and I can pretty much guarantee that anyone I brought home from this place would attempt to rob me blind the second my back was turned.
Suddenly, the strobing lights completely shut down, plunging the club into absolute darkness as the music cuts off. It’s a brief respite of beautiful silence, but I can only imagine how many people will get trampled to death trying to rush out of here while it’s pitch black.
A soft fog coats the pit and the crowd goes ape-shit, so whatever is happening is just part of the show instead of a power outage, sadly. Exhaling a harsh breath, I try to relax, but there’s no dropping my guard in a place like this.
On the DJ stage halfway up the pit wall in front of me, a soft red light kicks on low and a shadowy figure steps up, her features cast in shadow and smoke. When she starts to sing, not a breath can be heard beyond hers. I’m familiar with Monody, but I’ve never heard it sung in such a captivating, haunting way that has me unconsciously leaning closer.
I should have known better, because after a brief moment, the music kicks up, giving it a techno remix. The crowd starts to move with the bass, and the girl’s voice manages to carry and wrap around each person individually.
She hops off the stage gracefully, merging into the crowd and jumping, dancing with one person just to spin around with a rock of her hips, continuing her song seamlessly. No matter how effortlessly she moves through the crowd, she manages to stand apart. A beacon in the darkness, drawing all eyes to her haunting silver ones.
The other women are wearing barely enough clothes to keep from being arrested, yet she’s in simple jean shorts and a white t-shirt splattered with paint. The red light is traded for a purplish glow as it switches to black light, and it’s clear this is common here. She’s not the only one that glows in the darkness, others coming to life under her attention as she transforms this obnoxious place into something unique, something entrancing that I have to admit, makes it just a bit less terrible than before.
When she trails closer and brushes against me, instead of getting pissed like I’ve been, my cock jumps like a fuckin’ teenager as she rubs against me. She’s gone as quickly as she came, weaving her way throughout the heavy throng of bodies.
When her impromptu concert ends, she flips a few switches on her board up on stage, the room and music returning to the way it was before she arrived. She rocks with the bass, sets a playlist, and disappears as abruptly as she arrived. She practically blinks out of existence, not even her striking, multicolored hair giving her away. I push my way through the writhing bodies towards Atlas and Dorian, and with a jerk of my head, we climb out of the pit and up towards the booths.
“Holy hell,” Dorian grins. “She's new.”
Atlas smirks. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, nerd. If any of us are going home with that bombshell, it’ll be me.”
Shaking my head at them, I roll my eyes. “You two talk like it’s a done deal. Woman like that can do far better than you two assholes.”
Dorian childishly sticks his tongue out and flips me off while Atlas just grunts. “You think you stand a chance then, boss?”
I huff out an amused breath at that, the sound harsh, and hell, I’ve missed them. Not that I’d ever admit it aloud.
“Hell no. Girl like that has trouble written all over her. I don’t need that headache, Atlas. You two give me enough problems to handle already.”
Abandoning them, I leave to get a drink, needing literally anything to make this night fly by quicker. The crowd is much more manageable up here and it doesn’t take long until I catch sight of the bar, but more notably, the girl getting pushed off of it. She’s hopping up to sit on it a second time as I get within earshot and the bartender promptly shoves her right back off.