Hope(less) (28 page)

“I think the black one would be more fun to dance in.”

“I think you’re right.”  She set both on the bed and
rummaged in her jewelry box.  “I have an idea.  Peter can’t go out tonight so I
think we should make it a girl’s night out…”  She turned with something in her
hand and arched a brow at me, “Unless you have plans with Sir Talks-A-Lot?”

“No, but…”

She interrupted me by tossing something my direction.  By reflex,
I caught it.

“Have you ever tried wearing a ring?  Some friends of mine
do it when they want to go out to have fun and not be bothered by anyone.”  She
grabbed the black dress, handed it to me, and then begged, “Let’s just try. 
It’s a club with extremely expensive drinks, which discourages an all-out drunk
and it’s got great music.”

I hesitated, thinking of Clay.  Did I really want to sit
here waiting?  My waiting wouldn’t help him get home faster.  The small
niggling concern that his delay related to another challenge reared its head. 
Sam had assured me that the challenger would want to heal between fights.  If
Clay dished out worse bruises than he got, the other guy wouldn’t be ready yet
anyway.

She pounced on my hesitation.  “You know I’ll leave anytime
you say you’re ready to go.  You never seem to let your hair down and just have
fun.  With that kind of constant tension you’re going to end up with heart
disease or something.”

Her comment about never having fun, hit home.  I did tend
toward the more serious course.  When was the last time I did something just
for the fun of it?  For myself?  The double date with Scott had been for
Rachel.  The party last weekend had been for Nicole.  The Introductions for the
last two years had been for Sam.

Pathetically, I hadn’t done anything just for fun since
before I went to live with Sam.  Even going to school and getting an education
was more for my grandma than me.  Before she died, I’d made her a promise to
get an education and find something that made me happy.

But would going dancing really be something I would find
fun?  I fingered the fringe on the dress.  Yes, dancing would be fun.  The men
I’d rather avoid made it a less than fun idea.  I looked at the ring in my
hand.  The large stone sparkled brightly, meant to be noticed, but not gaudy. 
Would it work?

“We’d leave at the first sign the ring doesn’t work?  Even
if we never make it in the club?”  I glanced up at her and caught her hopeful
expression.

“I’ve got your back,” she promised. “First sign and we’re
back home, curled on the couch watching a chick flick.”

“Alright,” I sighed and grabbed the black dress, heading for
my room, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Gee, thanks,” Rachel laughed as I left to change.

*    *    *    *

The college crowd favored the downtown club despite the
overpriced drinks.  We stood in a long line waiting to get in, shuffling
forward every few seconds.  Muted music thumped from within, briefly growing
louder as the door opened to let people in or out.  I shivered standing next to
Rachel trying not to move too much so the cold beads wouldn’t touch my legs.

Even with an ID showing my correct age, eighteen, we had no
problem getting in.  The bouncer eyed me closely when we reached the door, not
even glancing at the ID I held out.  I withstood his scrutiny wishing he’d
hurry so we could warm up inside.  I’d pulled my hair back into a messy knot
and added a touch of eyeliner and mascara.  It wasn’t much of a change, but between
makeup and the dress, he looked at me as if I were a goddess.  Maybe this
wasn’t such a good idea.

Finally, he told me to get him if anyone inside gave me any
problems.  His constant glance at the ring on my finger almost made me smile. 
Other than looking, and offering his help, he hadn’t hit on me.

He opened the door for us and I stepped inside following
Rachel.  The beating bass of the music reverberated in the floor and my body. 
I wouldn’t be able to hear a thing, but didn’t care.  The club’s warm air
enveloped me.

Rachel pointed toward the bar giving me a minute to look
where she’d indicated.  A long blackboard above the bar, filled with neon
colored chalk, listed their specialty drinks and prices.  As promised, the
drinks were expensive.  Good thing, we wanted to dance, not drink.

Grabbing my hand, she pulled me to the edge of the swaying
crowd and started to dance.  I did a little twist in the dress and smiled to
myself as the beaded hemline flared out.  The dress was as fun to wear as I’d
thought.  Then the beads slapped my legs on the backswing.  The sting of it
made me rethink the fun factor.  If anyone got out of line, maybe I could use
it as a weapon.

The music freed me from worry about male attention, about
Clay, about Sam and his stupid rules.  I danced with Rachel truly having fun.

Reality crept in a while later along with our own all male
crowd.  Our dancing became a game of evasion and Rachel arched a brow at me in
question.  I shook my head not yet ready to call it quits.  The deafening music
made it impossible for them to talk to me and its fast heavy beat didn’t inspire
a slow close dance.  As long as I evaded the bump and grind style of dance, I could
still enjoy myself.

After a few songs, I signaled to Rachel.  A persistent
member of the group kept bumming into my backside.  She grabbed my hand and led
the way to the bar ignoring their protests.

Overheated, I needed a drink.  A few of the men followed
us.  One beat the others to the bar, managing to pull out his wallet and order
drinks for both of us.  Rachel took hers, but I shook my head and shouted to
the bartender that I just wanted water.  The generous buyer sulked a bit, but I
ignored him and his shouted attempts at conversation.

Sipping my water, I looked around feeling watched.  And by
someone not in the immediate group of men surrounding us.

I spotted two women further down the bar not exactly
watching me, but the crowd of men around us.  Neither looked angry, but both
looked a little envious.  Dressed very similar to Rachel and me, they stood
isolated at the bar.  They probably wondered what I had that they didn’t.  I
couldn’t blame them.  I looked a bit frumpier than they did.

I motioned to Rachel and we moved down the bar so our group
spread out to include them as well.  “Gabby,” I shouted my name over the music
and pointed to myself by way of introduction.  They smiled and seemed friendly,
trying to make conversation with a few of the men.

I didn’t notice someone leaning close to me until his breath
tickled my neck.

“About time you left your guard dog at home,” an unfamiliar
voice spoke smoothly in my ear so I could just hear him over the music.

Curious, I turned with my glass of water still in hand.  He
stood several inches taller than I did.  No surprise since just about everyone towered
over me.  He looked even taller than Clay, but not as wide shouldered, with copper
brown hair and hazel eyes.  He wore a humor-filled smile as I studied him.  I
struggled not to smile back very aware of my pull.

“Excuse me, do I know you?”  I shouted.

He leaned in and spoke in my ear.  “No need to shout love. 
You know I can hear you just fine.”  His lips touched the curve of my ear causing
a shiver as he inhaled deeply.  “Mm, you smell good.”

I pulled back, leaning against the bar to make some space
between us, and really looked at him.  The music ground out a steady beat and
the bodies on the dance floor moved in rhythm.  Calming, I scanned the area, not
surprised to see his blue-green spark.  Behind him in the crowd, I saw several
more.  Blue-green I could deal with.  I didn’t want to face the other color
again until I knew what it meant.

“What do you want?”  With humans, the ‘safety in numbers’
rule worked.  Not necessarily so with werewolves.  But they did have their own
non-human set of rules they still needed to follow… unless they were full Forlorn. 
Don’t think about that.
  I’d be okay as long as I followed the rules Sam
taught me.

He leaned in again so I could hear.  “Just to say hi love. 
You’re hard to catch by yourself.  Did you know your dog follows you to
school?”

“Hi, then,” I said refusing to respond to his last question.
 If Clay followed me to school, how did he ever find the time to work?  Again,
I wished he’d just start talking to me.

The man beside me remained close.  I didn’t like that his
breath kept tickling my ear.  Clay would smell him on me.

Rachel noticed him talking to me and sent me a questioning
look.  I gave her a half-smile to reassure her I didn’t mind… even though I
really did mind.

“I was hoping we’d be able to go somewhere quieter to talk.”

“Really?  Just us?  Or those other guys in the crowd too?” 
I took a sip of my water and glanced at him.

His smile stretched wider.  “Here I thought we were blending
in well.”

None of their kind could ever blend into a human crowd.  At
least, not for me.  I decided to be blunt.  “Do you have permission to be
here?”

“We have permission to approach you and request a second
meeting.”

“Second?”

“This would count as the first,” he clarified helpfully.

“Ah.”  So talking me into leaving with him would probably be
the second meeting, which he had permission to request, but I bet he didn’t
have permission to have the second meeting without Elder supervision.  Breaking
the rules.  I didn’t think he would accept a blunt ‘no’ to his request for a
second meeting.  It might even result in my immediate forceful removal from
this bar.  Could nothing in my life ever go easy?

“I can’t go with you tonight.  I’m with my friend.  However,
I’m going to be at the compound for an Introduction tomorrow night.”

“Really?  It’s odd that no call’s gone out for it.”  He
tilted his head studying me, never losing his playful expression.  Trying to
sense a lie, I knew.  Didn’t matter.  He wouldn’t sense one as I’d just made up
my mind.

“It’s because I haven’t told my guardian yet.  We had a
fight and I’m still pretty pissed him.”  Pretty pissed at him, and pretty
pissed at you.  Why couldn’t everyone just leave me alone?  “I’m tired of being
told what to do so I want the Introductions on my terms.  I didn’t think about
the call.  Sorry.”

He looked at me closely for several moments.  “I can
understand not wanting to be told what to do.  That’s why we left our packs.”

Forlorn.  My stomach dropped and my hand tightened on my
glass.  Bad just got worse and I knew the moment he smelled my fear.

His nostrils flared minutely and his grin widened.  “Don’t
worry little one.  We’re not going to cause you any trouble tonight.  We’ll
wait to see you tomorrow night.”

He nodded to me and walked away disappearing into the crowd. 
I used my sight to monitor their progress as they left the club.

That sounded like a threat.  If I didn’t go to the compound,
they would be coming to get me either way.

I grabbed Rachel’s hand, distracting her from her shouted
conversation, and motioned for the exit.  A true friend, she immediately set
her barely touched drink on the bar and moved to follow me.

One of the women noticed and snagged my arm as I made to
move past her.  She leaned in to beg, “Please stay!”

I smiled regretfully, looking at her and her friend.  Both pleaded
with their eyes as did the men behind them.  But the men begged for a different
reason.  I sighed and felt a moment of pity for the women.  At some point in
our lives, we all looked for that one being to connect with.  These two just
wanted a chance to find their special someone.  The guys were only feeling the
effects of the pull I had.

Understanding their need to find that ‘right’ someone, I
reached out to them apologetically.  Though I understood, we needed to leave
before the Forlorn changed their minds about waiting until tomorrow.

As soon as my fingers made contact with their arms, a large
shock took the three of us by surprise.  Immediately, I knew what I’d done.  The
shock didn’t sting as bad as it had when I’d shocked Nicole, but the drain of
it was worse.  They both looked stunned.  I just laughed it away and patted
their arms.

“Sorry,” I shouted over the music and waved goodbye guessing
I didn’t have much time.

This time when Rachel and I moved to leave, no one paid me
any attention.  One of the men behind the girls had already called the
bartender over to order more drinks for the group.  I hoped they’d stick
together and be smart about the attention soon to be showered on them.

I tugged Rachel’s hand again, feeling the first wave of
dizziness wash over me as we pushed our way through the crowd to the door.  The
bouncer didn’t even give me a second glance as we left.  No man did.  It
confirmed what I already had guessed.  It had happened again.

As soon as we were far enough away from the club that I
could hear, I told Rachel we needed to get home quick.  Our heels tapped out a
rapid cadence on the sidewalk.  The clip of our heels sounded like it came from
under water.  I wondered how long it would take my ears to recover from the
loud music.

“Why?” she asked, turning to look behind us.  “Is someone
following us?”

I hadn’t thought of that, but didn’t try looking not wanting
to drain myself further.

“No, I’m just really not feeling well.”  Reaching Rachel’s
car, I slid into my seat, waiting for the effects to hit me yet hoping the
chills and the headache wouldn’t come.

By the time we reached the house, I shivered
uncontrollably.  Rachel had cranked the heat in the car, but it hadn’t helped. 
After all, the shivering wasn’t because of a chill or running a temperature,
though staying warm helped.  Rachel eased into the driveway.  I didn’t argue
when she parked and told me to stay sitting.  She came to my side of the car to
help me out.