Infamous: (A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense) (18 page)

Hamburg in the fall is mostly gray and damp. Some of the buildings look pretty old, but a lot of the city was actually razed by fire during World War Two, so it’s newer than it looks. At night the buildings get a soft glow about them, especially when it’s rainy, which it often is. There was a sheen on the streets, reflecting back fuzzy streaks of light. It smelled like wet concrete. I was really glad I’d decided against the heels Tasha suggested and gone with less glamorous, but infinitely more comfortable, flats.

The rave was down past the Reeperbahn (their version of a Red Light District) and towards the harbor. A lot of warehouse buildings are down there and the harbor itself is really pretty. There are also bars on every block. Germans aren’t shy about drinking, and people wander around with booze pretty much everywhere. Tasha got handed a beer by a tall young man with blond hair shaved at the sides and a cheerful, tipsy grin. That’s not very unusual for her.

“Cheers!” she said and took a deep pull. We walked on, a bit behind Jake and the others. The excitement I’d felt earlier at my new look was starting to wear off. I was tired and homesick, and the idea of being around a lot of partying Europeans was starting to sound less appealing. But I was also determined. I was going to have one night of some kind of debaucherous fun if it killed me.

They say you should be careful what you wish for, right? Yeah, whoever “they” are have a distinct point.

“Why do you suddenly look like someone killed your favorite pet?” Tasha asked, swinging her perfect teal hair and bouncing a little as we walked.

“I don’t know. I just feel…weird about tonight, suddenly, is all,” I said, shrugging.

“Weird, like, you’re going to meet a handsome stranger and dance until you’re gross and sweaty and high, or weird like a Cronenberg movie?” she asked, slowing down. I looked at her perfectly winged eyeliner and smiled a little.

“As long as we stay out of
eXistenZ
territory, we’re probably good.”

“Because weird alien things that plug into you would suck?” Tasha poked me with her elbow.

“No, it’s just a shitty movie.” And we both laughed, clear in the night.

“I just feel like
something
is going to happen tonight, something important. But everyone feels like that when they’re traveling through Europe after college ends, right? It’s like a required twenty-something existential crisis.” I sighed. Up ahead, Jake was pointing to a pointy-topped warehouse not far from the maritime museum. The water was slate gray under the dark sky, and the moon came out for a brief, bright moment before retreating.

The name of the place was in surprisingly dim neon red, and in German, which I don’t read. It just looked like a bunch of random consonants and vowels to me:
Ewige Nacht der Trauer
. I wouldn’t find out until later how much having someone translate that would have helped.

“I mean,
something
is going to happen. Something
always
happens. That’s sort of how life works,” she said, carefully putting the empty beer bottle on the ground.

“Yeah, but a good something or a bad something?” I looked up into the cloudy sky and shivered. I suddenly wished I’d stayed in with tea and called my mom instead.

“You can’t go through life avoiding everything because something bad might happen. That’s a great way to end up alone with a fish and nothing but Jane Austen novels for company.” Tasha skipped away from me as I reached out to poke her. She knew I was an avid Austen fan.

“It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” I kicked at some loose stones, not sure why I was being so contrary and maudlin.

“Emma, you’re not just careful. You’re like…” She searched for the right phrase, pretty brown face scrunched up. She shrugged.

“I’m what? A downer? A killjoy? Boring?” I didn’t mean for there to be an edge in my voice but I felt uncomfortably like that kid alone on prom night again.

“No. You’re smart and thoughtful and sensible. Those are good qualities.”

“But. I can hear a but in there,” I prodded.

“But. You’re also, you know, closed off. And the only person you’re really hurting is you.” She linked her arm in mine.

“Tonight will be fun. Just have a drink, dance a little, stay out late, don’t worry about tomorrow until it’s here.”

“You’ll stay with me?” I asked, putting my head on her shoulder.

“Of course. Friends don’t let friends out of their sight at raves in foreign cities.”

“Okay. Then I promise I’ll worry about tomorrow when it’s here.”

“Good.”

I wanted to feel relieved and silly, but I still felt oddly nervous and wary. It did help that I knew Tasha would stick to me like glue. I took several deep breaths and prepared myself for all the fun-having I could stand.

When we got to the doors, Jake and the rest of us were waved in by a couple of stone-faced bouncers with shaved heads and earpieces. You could feel the beat of the music through the sidewalk, a steady
oonce oonce
that seemed to travel up from your feet into your teeth.

Inside was not what I was expecting. Most of the interior design I’d seen in Germany so far was very modern, very austere, metal and gray with clean lines and efficient space management. Not here. Everything was draped with red velvet with high-backed chairs, fainting couches, and poufy seats lining the walls. It was like some Victorian brothel had decided to wait out the years and then was rediscovered by a bunch of club kids and updated for the scene. Most of the seats were occupied by people talking, drinking, or watching other people. The typical kind of oscillating lights careened around, casting everyone in shifting shades of blue, purple, yellow, red.

As we walked towards the bar, I noticed an odd decorative conceit: mirrors of every shape and size were hung on the walls, but all had the glass painted over with obvious black blotches and streaks. It was impossible to see anything reflected in them. The odd bit of light would glance off what little glass peeked through the paint and then was gone.

“Those mirrors are really weird,” I tried to tell Tasha. She just smiled and nodded, the universal symbol for “I can’t hear anything you’re saying but I’ll pretend anyway!” I sighed and pointed at the bar. She gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Jake and a cadre of other hip young things were huddled by the opposite end of the bar, nursing pale green drinks in actual glasses. I suspected it was probably supposed to look like (or might actually be) absinthe. I think anything licorice-flavored is disgusting, personally. Plus, it’s kind of pretentious to drink that stuff at a club. Or anywhere. Tasha and I exchanged a look and waved away the bartender when he offered us some as well. Instead, we got some plain old dark beers. The bartender popped the tops, and we swigged and surveyed the landscape.

The place was filling up nicely with half-shaved heads, shiny faux leather, and lots and lots of brightly colored pants. It sort of made it look like a bunch of neon crayons were shuffling on the dance floor.

The music continued its relentless beat and, after a few sips of beer, I caught myself bopping along a little. Tasha tugged my arm and nodded her head towards the dance floor. I downed the rest of my beer and decided it was time to just get over it already.

It turns out dancing is pretty fun. I know, obvious, right?

Of course, I’m not a good dancer. I know no moves. I just sort of wiggled to the beat as best I could and tried not to flap my arms too much. Tasha wasn’t a ton better, which surprised me. But she did have this awesome hair-tossing move that looked spectacular every time she did it, almost like she was in slow motion. Her teal curls would cascade up and down and then she’d sway her hips in a way I could tell several of the dudes appreciated.

For a while, we mainly danced together, laughing and not being able to hear a word the other said over the seamlessly mixed technopop. By then the dance floor was crowded with people, and being sweaty was pretty much the norm. A couple of guys tried to edge into our space but we always squeezed them out. We weren’t being mean; we just didn’t want the pressure. Most of them got the hint and danced off into the ether. But there was one guy who couldn’t seem to grasp that were not in the mood.

He was tall, very pale, with the kind of high cheekbones that could cut you. He kept eyeing Tasha and trying to cut in between us. After the third time, she gave him a push, shook her head, then took my hand and we went to the bar. When I looked back, he was standing in the middle, totally still, a strange, considering look on his face.

We got waters and I noticed Jake and crew had moved over to a little lounge area, where they were deeply involved in a conversation with another group of mostly leather-clad men who reminded me of Cheekbones from the dance floor. Everyone was very good-looking and very serious. Jake seemed to be holding court of some kind and was very emphatically gesturing a lot. I wasn’t sure how they could hear anything over the music. At one point he seemed to point in our general direction, but it was a big place and there were a lot of people. He could have been pointing at a wall. I couldn’t see anyone else who’d come from the hostel around anymore, except those hanging out with Jake. And most of them looked kind of wasted.

Yet. There was something about all these weird looks and gestures that was making me uneasy again. The adrenaline from dancing was wearing off and I felt really hot and sticky. The water helped, it was cool against my face, but something about it tasted funny. I drank a bit more, then put it down with an involuntary grimace. Tap water in Germany isn’t the greatest, but this had a strange metallic undertaste that lingered. Tasha was finishing hers and wiping sweat off her forehead. She gave me a grin.

Looking back at the dance floor, I saw that Cheekbones had seemingly moved on to a girl with long blond hair, but he kept looking at Tasha whenever he thought we weren’t paying attention. I leaned close to her ear and shouted.

“That guy is giving me the creeps!”

“What guy?”

“You know, Cheekbones, the one who kept trying to cut in.”

“Just a douchebro, I’m sure. He’ll get over it,” she said, waving down the waiter for another water. “You want one?”

“No, they taste weird. It’s getting really stuffy in here, you notice?” But she was drinking more water and didn’t hear me.

I looked at her water and, in the light, it looked a little pink and almost like it glowed faintly. I shook my head, feeling a bit dizzy. Had to be the lights and a little too much fun. One good thing about the sweating was that I was entirely sober. Normally one beer will make me tipsy for a while, but all the activity had flushed it right out.

Which is probably why I noticed Tasha suddenly wasn’t at my side anymore a lot sooner than I might have otherwise.

I turned to say something to her about maybe leaving soon, and there was a Tasha-shaped hole where she should have been. It couldn’t have been more than a minute since I’d seen her downing her second bottle of water. I looked around, feeling weird, almost dizzy but maybe more “foggy.” No sign of her. No flash of teal hair on the dance floor. No glimpse of it around the bar.

What I did see were two things: One, Jake and crew were also gone. Which was a whole lot of people to suddenly not be somewhere anymore, especially when it would have been difficult not to notice them leaving as they would have had to come around the bar on my side to get to the nearest exit. And, two, Cheekbones also appeared to be gone.

I had no idea where to look, but something about all of this was very wrong. People were still dancing, but it looked strange and sinister to me now. The music had an edge, a metallic undersound like the water’s unpleasant taste.

The exit wasn’t that far, but it almost felt like I had to cross an ocean to get to it. It was oppressively hot in the club and I noticed a coppery smell I hadn’t before. My limbs felt tired and stupid. My head still felt a little foggy, but I hoped the outside air would help.

The door opened onto a slim alley that had cool night air and I breathed deep. I heard noises to my left, away from the street, and cautiously moved towards them. I didn’t know if Tasha was back here or still in the club somewhere, but I wasn’t going to leave her if she was. I peeked around a corner and an icy chill went up my spine.

Tasha was being held between two men, Cheekbones and Jake. Her head was lolling back to front and she kept blinking very slowly and making small sounds in the back of her throat. I thought about the weird undertaste of the water and realized it was probably drugged. This new feeling started to well up in me, from the pit of my stomach, up into my lungs, making me breathe deep and slow. My head cleared all of a sudden.

The two men were arguing with one another, pulling on her like she wasn’t a person but a sack of something. They let go and she fell in a heap as they argued. I couldn’t understand what they said. It wasn’t German; it sounded vaguely Russian.

My face flamed and that feeling in the pit of my stomach spread up my arms, into my legs. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling at first. I should have been afraid, petrified. Instead it was like some kind of eye had opened up inside me and I could see clearly for the first time.

I was furious.

I looked around me and miraculously found a substantial-looking pipe someone had discarded. Then I did the bravest, and possibly stupidest thing I have ever done in my entire life. It’s weird how those two things often go together.