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stuff was doing something to her parasenses. She had to get away from it.
She tried to hurry out of the hall but couldn t seem to find her balance. When
she looked down she saw that her feet, complete with high heels, had
disappeared into the glowing blue light beneath the thick glass. She could no
longer tell where she was stepping. The smoky drug was throwing both her
normal and her paranormal senses into chaos.
The heel of her invisible shoe skidded on the glass, twisting beneath her.
She stumbled and started to fall. Instinctively she grabbed a handful of the
black curtain to steady herself. But the thick drapery could not support her
weight. It tore free of the hooks that secured it to the wall.
She went down hard on the illuminated floor, still clutching the curtain.
Yards of heavy fabric cascaded on top of her, threatening to suffocate her.
A rush of adrenaline shot through her. This was ridiculous. She was not going
to die here on the floor outside the restroom of a goth club. Clamping down
savagely on the riot of horrible voices, she planted both hands on the
illuminated floor and managed to push herself up onto all fours.
The change in position allowed a draft of air in under the shroud of cloth.
She could still smell the tainted smoke but it was not nearly as strong as it
had been a moment before. Smoke rises, she thought. The air was less tainted
here near the floor. The dust embedded in the curtains was another problem,
however. She sneezed.
There were more voices. Thankfully, they were not coming from inside her head.
Two young men who had just emerged from the restroom were talking.
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Hey, man, floor look a little weird to you?
I told you that new shit was some righteous stuff.
No, man, it s, like, the curtain that used to be on the wall. What s it doin
on the floor? Can t see the lights.
She drew another cautious breath. Help.
I think there s somebody under there, man.
You sure it ain t the shit?
Don t think so.
The drapery was abruptly snatched away. She straightened to her knees and
discovered two figures peering down at her. She couldn t see their faces
clearly in the deep shadows but the floor light illuminated two pairs of heavy
leather boots.
Thank you, she managed between sneezes.
One of the young men bent over her, concerned. The blue floor light gleamed on
the rings in his nose, eyelid and lower lip.
You okay? he asked.
Yes, thanks, she said. The scent of the drug was almost gone. The air tasted
relatively clean. Could you give me a hand? I think I broke the heel of my
shoe.
Sure. Ring Guy took a firm grip on her elbow and hauled her upright. Hey,
you re Pandora s boss, aren t you? I ve seen you in here before.
That s right. Standing, she could see that both men were wearing leather
vests that left their arms and chests bare. The better to exhibit their
extensive tattoos, no doubt. Ring Guy s hair was cut and gelled into a shark s
fin on top of an otherwise shaved head. His companion wore his hair in a long
black ponytail.
I can t tell you how much I appreciate the two of you coming to my rescue,
she said, giving them both a grateful smile. That curtain weighed a ton.
Thought I was going to suffocate under it.
No problem, Ring Guy said, pleased to play hero.
Yeah, sure, Ponytail said enthusiastically. Anytime. You gonna be okay
now?
I think so, yes. She looked around, wondering why the noise level had gone
up so dramatically. You two weren t behind the curtain, were you?
Huh? Ring Guy seemed confused. No. We just came out of the restroom.
I thought so, she said. There was someone else here a moment ago, hiding
behind the curtains. Did you see anyone leave?
No, Ring Guy said. But it s sorta hard to see much in here.
I know. Well, thanks again.
She tried to take a step and realized that walking was going to be an issue.
Her ankle was throbbing. She put one hand on the wall to steady herself and
limped slowly back to the main room. She heard the voices of her rescuers
floating out of the hallway behind her.
Is she walkin sort of funny? Ring Guy said to his companion.
Probably the shit. Told you it was good.
She made it back to the booth where Pandora was waiting.
There you are. Pandora shouted over the roar of the pounding music. What s
wrong? Did you hurt your foot?
Fell coming out of the restroom. She slid into the booth, relieved to get
off her feet. Broke a heel. Twisted my ankle.
Bad?
She wiggled her foot cautiously. No. I ll put some ice on it when I get
home.
She realized that the reason the decibel level had climbed to the point of
pain was because she had lost her earplugs. She was reaching into her purse to
find another set when she sensed the wave of paranormal energy. It stirred
everything within her. Zack. She realized that she would know his invisible
psychic aura anywhere. She could also tell that he was running very hot.
Something was wrong.
She turned to search for him. He wasn t hard to spot. For an instant he was
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silhouetted against a flash of strobe light. She caught a glimpse of his hard
face and the black leather jacket he wore over his black T-shirt. He looked a
thousand times more dangerous than anyone else in the vicinity.
He cut purposefully through the crowd with the ease of a wolf carving a path
through a flock of sheep, clearly intent on reaching the booth where she sat
with Pandora. The club s patrons got out of his way without seeming to be
aware of why they were moving. She realized they were acting on instinct,
responding on a primitive level to the strong vibes that formed an invisible
aura of power around Zack. The Arcane Society experts were right, she decided.
Most people did have some degree of psychic talent. They just preferred to
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