Dahlia has lived in our universe as an immortal for centuries. She has a soft spot for this universe - all the good and all the bad - and has made the best of an admittedly bad situation. Her universe? It...went through some things, but who cares, w...
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THE STREETS WERE well-lit, and Veena and I butchered Onyx Vixen lyrics at the top of our lungs while we walked, receiving odd looks from everyone we passed. I didn't care. The air was hot, and I felt sweat licking its way down my back. I should've been miserable, sweating buckets and walking in heels, but that wasn't happening.
We took a turn into a dark, empty alley. Only one streetlight was on, but the lightbulb probably needed changing, so it kept fizzing on and off uselessly. We came to a stop in front of a closed bookshop at the end of the street. From what little I could see, the books in the shop front window looked yellowed and decaying.
Veena knocked on the door, and in the dim moonlight, I caught some movement within the shop. The door was unlocked and yanked open, revealing a burly man I vaguely recognized. Had he been one of the Council's guards?
His dark eyes lit up at the sight of us. "Come in, come in," he said, ushering us into the shop. He closed the door behind us and locked the door once again.
The shop smelled musty. The books probably hadn't been opened in centuries. The man led us past the register and into a narrow hallway in the back, flicking on a light as he walked. He opened a door in the back that looked like it might lead to a storage room, but instead brought us into the club. The entire place was definitely soundproofed.
It seemed like too much trouble to go to just to hide from humans, but it was worth it to have a space that was just ours.
I followed Veena to the bar, and she ordered a cocktail reminiscent of a Neutrali one for the both of us as we hopped onto the metal stools. The club wasn't packed - not by a long shot - but there were so many familiar faces on the dance floor. If I squinted and truly played make-believe, it almost felt like we were back home.
The bartender was a lanky guy with shaggy, dirt-blonde hair and piercing green eyes that held the promise of something more as he slid our drinks to us. I could feel my cheeks heat up. I'd never been with a Neutrali man before.
"Is that...Marcus Locke?" Veena asked, nodding her head in the direction of the man semi-hunched over a corner table.
"Oh, wow," I said, putting the straw to my lips. My eyes were trained on him. "I think it is."
"Are you two still behaving like kids?"
"I have no idea what you mean," I replied.
"Why do you pick on him, Dahlia?"
"I don't pick on him."
"It's the equivalent of a boy in a playground pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes."
"Am I the boy in this analogy?" I let out a loud laugh when she nodded. "I don't like Marcus. I can barely stand him."
