Even with the bar’s appearance, I still couldn’t get over the intense aromatic scents that assaulted me. I expected a moldy, murky aroma given the site of the interior, not the pleasing, relaxing smells that seemed to slip into my cells. The longer I stood there, the more those scents enveloped me, kept me hostage, and wrapped their cloying fingers around my throat. I idly ran my finger over the leg of an overturned chair, and gasped as pain lanced through my hand. Staring down at my finger, I saw a thick splinter piercing my flesh. When I plucked it out, a drop of blood welled on the tip of the digit. The room was dark, but as I stared at that drop of blood, my drop of blood, it grew redder in color. The bead slid down my skin and splashed against the dirty floor. I stared down at it for a suspended moment, my gaze riveted to the bright red color of my sustenance against the scarred and damaged backdrop of the wood floor.

I shook myself free of my trance and turned to leave. I shouldn’t be here. It didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like I belonged. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so determined to live my life recklessly, and experience a life that was clearly not meant for me.

Just before I reached the door, a dizzying rush slammed into me. It was as if I walked right into a wall, yet I felt no pain. Stumbling back, I gripped my head, my equilibrium off to the point that the room spun violently. I staggered over to a wall and reached a hand out to steady myself. I dropped my head and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths and willing the nausea to pass.

The quiet and bleakness that surrounded me slowly left. The sensation was strange, like when a song is slowly ending and another one takes its place. Music welled up around me, along with the clatter of dishes, laughter, and the distinct smell of cloves. I slowly lifted my head and opened my eyes. I first stared at my hand, which was pressed against a now-silk damask covered wall. I turned around and felt my eyes widen and my breath halt. Although my world consisted of the paranormal, the scene before me still had my heart palpitating.

Gone was the twenty-first century I was so accustomed to, the grungy, bleak and dirty interior I had just been standing in, and in its place was a life straight from the roaring twenties. Flapper girls milled around, their short shapeless shift dresses moving like liquid as they swayed to the music. The women had sleek bob hairdos, feather boas around their shoulders, pearls adorning their necks, and white silk gloves covering their hands and forearms. It looked like a scene right out of The Great Gatsby.

Just as I really started to take in every little detail, which seemed like they had been taken off a movie set and put in this era-inspired bar, everyone stopped what they were doing and slowly turned to stare at me. As the seconds ticked by, my heart started beating faster, my palms started sweating, and that feeling of vertigo assaulted me once more. And then the people in front of me started to turn into something altogether different. It was as if they had worn a human mask and their true selves were gradually coming to the surface. Red eyes flashed, and the human appearances started to contort to creatures right out of my nightmares. And then they all smiled simultaneously, razor sharp fangs flashing at me like predators about to devour their prey. A scream welled up in my throat as I inched my way toward the door. How stupid could I have been to think I could handle something like this? I turned around to make my escape, but the door that should have been there was gone.

Panic settled into my bones and I swallowed harshly, my throat feeling like I had sand and nails lodged there.

Breathe, Nena. Breathe.

“You know, panicking is only making them want you more.”

The low voice behind me had my eyes widening further and my breath coming in short pants. I didn’t want to move, but as if I was a puppet and he was the puppeteer, I slowly turned around. The massive man standing in front of me made the words fear and power mean far more frightening things. I stared into a pair of intense green eyes, not realizing that there was something else churning inside of me aside from fear. Even in my perilous situation I couldn’t help but notice the attractiveness of this man, how his deeply accented voice moved over me like fingers.

I swallowed and took a step back, well, as far as the wall behind me allowed. The man was massive, with bulging muscles underneath the black button-down shirt and dark pants he wore. The sleeves were pushed up his thick forearms, and this chill raced up my spine at the image of him taking a life with all that unrestrained power. Even though this sexual need coursed through me, I wasn’t fooled into thinking he couldn’t snap my spine like a toothpick.

“We don’t get many mortal visitors.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. He scanned my body with his gaze so thoroughly that I felt like I was standing naked before him. He hummed in approval. “I can’t complain on the selection, though,” he murmured as he took a step toward me. The heat from him speared right through me, saturating me like I was standing in the middle of a raging inferno.

Logically I knew I should fear him. He could, after all, be a werewolf, demon, or any other supernatural being that could overpower me with little effort.

He inhaled deeply. “I can smell your fear. You’re smart for a human.” He didn’t show any emotion, but I knew he could read me as well as if I had just told him my deepest secrets. “Although your fear tempts me, I would much rather taste the pain and pleasure I can give you.”

My heart started to work overtime, slamming against my sternum as the full reality of my situation slammed into me. I foolishly thought I could handle myself here, stupidly thought I was strong enough to deal without whatever repercussions happened tonight.