My stomach hollowed as I glanced at the sparkly pillar like it could be of some help. “Uh, why?”
His dark gaze met mine, and all I could focus on was the tiny diamond under his eye. That had to be such a painful piercing. He didn’t speak as he gripped my arm with a meaty hand and wheeled me around. Panic blossomed as I looked at the dance floor, unable to see Heidi or Emery in the crush of dancers.
Heart pounding in my chest, I held on to my water as Clyde led me away from my pretty pillar. My cheeks caught fire as a few people at the tables stared. An older girl smirked and shook her head as she lifted a glass of amber-colored liquor to her mouth.
This was so embarrassing.
I was about to be thrown out. Just my luck. Which meant I was going to have to text Zoe or someone to come get me, because I was not going to ruin Heidi’s night. Not when Emery had approached her. I was going—
Clyde wasn’t leading me to the front of the club.
He suddenly cut to the left, dragging me along with him. My heart dropped all the way to my pinched toes when I realized where he was taking me. The shadowy alcove—to the couch.
Sitting in the same lazy sprawl as before, still tapping those long, tapered fingers, was Luc. His lips tilted up at the corners.
Shock stole my breath. Normally I would be relatively excited about chatting with an extraordinarily hot guy—especially with a guy who, wow, had such thick black lashes—but everything about this was wrong.
I was not the kind of girl who got randomly picked out in a club and then escorted by someone who looked they belonged in the WWE for a one-on-one with the resident hottie. I wasn’t knocking myself. I was just the embodiment of the Triple A.
Average life.
Average face.
Average body.
And what was happening right now was not average.
“What is going . . . ?” I trailed off as Clyde steered me past the blond Luxen, who was still staring down at his phone, toward one end of the couch. The hand left my arm and then landed on my shoulder once more.
“Sit,” Luc said, and that one word was spoken in the kind of voice that probably left a trail of really bad decisions in its wake.
I sat.
Not that I had much choice. Clyde sat me down and then lumbered off, bumping and moving people out of the way like a human bulldozer.
Pulse pounding erratically, I stared in the direction Clyde had gone in, but I was completely aware of the boy sitting about a foot from me. My hand was shaking, and when I inhaled deeply, I caught the scent of pine and soap over the bitter tang of alcohol. Was that coming from him? The pine and soap scent? If so, he smelled amazing.
Was . . . was I really smelling him?
What was wrong with me?
“You can stare in Clyde’s direction all you want, but no amount of wishful thinking is going to bring him back,” Luc advised. “Though, if you’re wishing for that and it works, then you’re made of awesome dark magic.”
I had no idea how to respond to that. My brain had emptied of all words. The plastic cup crinkled under my fingers as the music halted for a brief second. Several people on the dance floor stopped, their chests rising and falling heavily. Then a thick, steady tempo of drums picked up, and the people on the dance floor just lost it.
My eyes widened as fists pumped the air and the dancers on the stage dropped to their knees, slamming their palms against the floor. Shouts grew louder and louder, a rising crescendo that matched the drums. Voices rose, chanting out lyrics that made goose bumps explode all over my arms.
Safe from pain and truth and choice . . .
A shiver broke out across my skin. Something about this—the song, the chants and cheers—was familiar. The weird feeling of déjà vu rose as I frowned. I didn’t recognize this song, but that wiggling sensation was still dominating the back of my brain.
“Like the song?” he asked.
Slowly, I turned my head toward him. His smile was a wolf’s smile, leaving me wholly unnerved. I lifted my gaze. The breath I’d taken punched out of my lungs.
The smile faded from his lips, and he stared at me like . . . I don’t know. There was an almost surprised pinch to his striking features, but his . . .
His eyes.
I’d never seen eyes like his. They were amethyst in color, a vibrant, polished purple, and the black lines around his pupils were irregular, fuzzy even. They were utterly beautiful eyes, but . . .
Heidi’s suspicion was correct. “You’re a Luxen.”
The blond staring at his phone snorted.
Luc tilted his head to the side as the odd look washed away from his face. “I’m not a Luxen.”
Yeah, I was calling total BS on that. Humans did not have eyes like that unless they were wearing contacts. My gaze shot to the hand that rested on his thigh. There was a leather cuff around his wrist with some kind of weird stone in the middle of it. An oval gem that was a kaleidoscope of milky colors. What he wore was not a Disabler used to keep a Luxen from killing half of the people in this club in less than ten seconds.
“Are you a human wearing freaky contacts then?”
“Nope.” He raised a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. Why would he deny being a Luxen? Before I could ask that question, he spoke again. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”
“Uh, yeah . . . I . . . think so.”
He bit down on his plump lower lip, drawing my attention. Goodness, those were totally kissable lips. Not that I was thinking about kissing him or anything; it was just a pure, clinical observation that anybody in my situation would make.
“You don’t sound very convincing. You actually look like you would rather be anyplace but here,” he continued, those heavy lashes lowering once more. “So, what are you doing here?”
His question jolted me.
“Your friend comes here a lot. She fits in. Has fun. You have never come here.” Those lashes lifted and his odd eyes latched on to mine. “And I would know if you had been here before.”
I stiffened. How in the world did he know this was my first time here? There had to be at least a hundred people here, and all of them blended together.
“You stand by the dance floor all by yourself. You don’t have fun and . . .” His stare dropped, coasting over the front of my dress. Without looking, I knew he was staring at the water stain. “You don’t fit in here.”
Okay. Wow. That was blunt, and I finally found my voice. “This is my first time here—”
“I already knew that.” He paused. “Obviously. Because I just said that.”
Irritation chipped away at the unease and confusion. Luxen or not, I didn’t know who in the hell this guy thought he was. He was rude, and I was not going to sit here and let someone talk to me like that. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?”
That half smile spread an inch. “My name is Luc.”
Was his name supposed to hold the answers to the universe? “And?”
“And I want to know why you’re here.”
Frustration pricked at my skin. “Are you like the official club greeter or something?”
“Something like that.” He kicked a booted foot up onto the square glass table in front of him as he leaned toward me. The distance between us evaporated. His eyes met and held mine. “I’m going to be blunt with you.”
I barked out a harsh laugh. “You haven’t been blunt already?”
He ignored that comment and didn’t look away, not once. “You shouldn’t be here. Like, of all the places for you to be, this is the last place. Isn’t that right, Grayson?”
“Beyond right,” answered the blond Luxen.
Warmth burst open in my chest, burning up my throat. Sucking in a sharp breath, I willed my face to remain emotionless even though what he said stung for reasons it shouldn’t. It didn’t matter if he was human or not or that I’d never seen this guy before and probably would never see him again once I walked out of this stupid club. Having someone tell you that you didn’t fit in didn’t feel good. Ever.
No way was I letting him, a complete stranger—an alien—get the better of me. At the end of the day, he was a jerk-face, and I wasn’t going to allow him to hurt my feelings. Absolutely no way.
Holding his gaze, I summoned a little of my mom—scary mom. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to be here, Luc.”
“Well,” he drawled, his broad shoulders tensing, “now you do.”
I drew back. “Are you serious?” A shocked laugh escaped me. “You don’t own this place. You’re just some—” I cut myself off before I said something incredibly ignorant. “You’re just some guy.”
Tipping his head back, he chuckled deeply. “Now, I know that’s not what you were about to say or what you’re really thinking.” His fingers tapped along the back of the couch, and I wanted to reach over and smack my hand down on them. “Tell me what I really am. I cannot wait to hear it.”
“Whatever.” I glanced over at the dance floor, unable to see Heidi, since it appeared the crowd had tripled all of a sudden. Dammit. “I came here to hang out with my friend. That’s all I’m doing. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Everything has to do with me.”
I blinked once and then twice, waiting for him to laugh, but when he didn’t, I realized I’d officially met the most arrogant being on this planet.
“By the way, you’re not hanging out with your friend. Like I pointed out earlier, you were standing by the dance floor . . . just standing there, all by yourself.” His eerie eyes tracked over my face with such intensity that the tips of my ears started to burn. “Is that what you normally do when you hang out with your friend? Stand by yourself, drinking water?”
My mouth moved, but there were no words. He was absolutely the most antagonistic thing I’d ever met.
The one side of his lips tipped up even farther. “You’re not even old enough to be in here.”
I was willing to bet he wasn’t either. “I’m old enough.”
“Really?”
“Your big burly friend checked my ID and let me in. Ask him.”
Luc’s chest rose deeply. The breadth of his shoulders stretched the worn gray cotton. His shirt read NO DRAMA LLAMA. That shirt was a lie. This boy was all about the drama llama. “Let me see your ID.”
I scowled. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re some rando dude in a club. I’m not going to show you my ID.”
That gaze slid back to mine. Challenge was etched into every striking feature. “Or maybe you don’t want to show me your ID because it proves you’re not twenty-one.”
I said nothing.
One eyebrow rose. “Or is it because you think I’m a Luxen?”
“Now that sounds like the real issue,” Grayson chimed in, and my gaze darted to him. He’d finally put his phone down. Unfortunately. “That’s probably also why she’s not comfortable. I bet she’s one of those people.”
“Those people?” I repeated.
Grayson’s ultra-blue eyes met mine. “The kind scared of the Luxen.”
I shook my head as the music and the club seemed to fade into the background. It was then when I realized no one, not a single person in here, approached this area. Everyone gave this alcove a wide berth.
Luc made a noise under his breath. “Does being around Luxen like this, out of the public eye, bother you? Scare you?”
“No. It doesn’t.” That wasn’t exactly true, because come on, I wasn’t part of the Hate All Luxen train roaring through every city and small town, but they were scary. You had to have absolutely no common sense if you didn’t fear them a little. They’d killed millions of people. Maybe these two guys hadn’t, but they weren’t wearing Disablers. They could kill me before I even saw it coming.
But the urge to prove that I didn’t care if they were Luxen or not rode me hard. My ID wasn’t real. It didn’t have my address or real name on it. Showing it to him wouldn’t endanger me. I sat my drink down on the table and pulled the ID out of the thin slot.
“Here you go,” I chirped, forcing as much brightness into my voice as possible.
Luc lifted his hand off the back of the couch and took the card. His fingers brushed over mine in the process. Static crackled, sending a tiny jolt up my arm. Gasping, I pulled my arm back.
His smile kicked up a notch, and my stomach pitched. Had he done that purpose? Shocked me? His lashes lowered. “Nola Peters?”
“Yes. That’s my name.” That was so not my name. It was a combination of two cities I’d never visited—New Orleans and St. Petersburg.
“It says you’re twenty-two.” He lowered his hand as he looked at me. “You’re not twenty-two. I bet you’re barely seventeen.”
I inhaled deeply through my nose. I was not “barely” seventeen. In six months I’d be eighteen. “You know, you don’t look like you’re twenty-one.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” He moved the card over his fingers, flipping it back and forth. “I have a baby face.”
“Doubtful.”
“I like to think I’m going to age gracefully. People will think I’ve found the fountain of youth.”
“Okay,” I said, drawing the word out. “Look, it’s hasn’t been nice talking to you, so I have to go. I need to find my friend—”
“Your friend is busy, you know, having fun.” His grin spread into a cheeky smile that would’ve been endearing if I didn’t want to straight up punch him in the face. “Unlike you. You are not having fun.”
“You’re right. I’m not.” My eyes narrowed, and I resisted the near primal urge to pick up my water and throw it on him. “I was actually trying to be polite—”
“Quaint,” he murmured.
Oh my God, this guy was going to make my head spin right off my shoulders. “But truth time? I really don’t want to spend another minute in your presence.” I started to get up. “You’re a dick and I don’t know you. I don’t want to get to know you. Peace out, home skillet.”
“But I know who you are.” He paused. “I know who you really are, Evelyn.”