Authors: Naomi Clark
Tags: #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Teen & Young Adult, #Werewolves & Shifters
“It’ll be fine. They’ll like you.”
As long as they didn’t find out she’d killed her last boyfriend, she thought darkly. Over the past few days, she and Seth had resolutely not discussed the Harris problem. They’d come to a silent agreement that it was best left unsaid. She had no idea if any of the other Kurtadam knew, and part of her expected Nuala’s party to be an elaborate ploy to corner and publicly shame her. It was the same part of her that heard Ingrid’s words every time she and Seth parted.
He’ll get bored of slumming with you.
She pushed it aside. Seth said he wasn’t going to tell anyone, and she trusted him.
Liverpool One loomed before them, its maze of shops promising to yield the perfect present if she and Seth were prepared to try. Lizzie swallowed her little morsel of doubt, attempting to banish it to make way for gift-buying.
“Let’s start with L’Occitane,” she suggested, pulling Seth towards the shop, lured by the aroma of lavender and sage wafting from it. “Expensive skin care stuff. She’ll love it.”
They were mooching around a jewellery store an hour or so later, Seth staring somewhat hopelessly at gold bracelets, when Lizzie heard someone calling her name. Her nerves tripped, and she turned, expecting Harris or Nick. Maybe even Ingrid – God knew the girl’s voice taunted her. But no, she could breathe easy. It was Tai, arm-in-arm with a girl Lizzie didn’t know, but who lacked the earthy smell of werewolf.
“Lizzie! I thought you’d dropped off the earth or something,” Tai exclaimed, dragging her friend over. “Seth, you’ve been keeping her chained to the bed, haven’t you?”
Seth looked up from the bracelets to wink at Tai. “Maybe she’s had me chained to the bed,” he suggested. “Ever think of that?”
Tai frowned. “I’m sorry I asked. I don’t actually want to know. So what’s the occasion?” She nodded to the display of necklaces and rings.
“Nuala,” Seth said simply.
“Ah.” Tai nodded wisely. “I’m baking her a cake. So much easier. Anyway, that’s Saturday.” She waved her hand, sweeping Saturday away. “What are you two up to on Friday night? Me and Nell are trying to get everyone down to the Barfly.”
“What’s on?” Seth asked, while Lizzie’s stomach churned again. A night out in Liverpool was fraught with danger now. She might see Harris, might see Nick. Might lose all her stern resolve and get drunk. Might meet one of Harris’s old mates and find herself snorting coke off a cistern in the club toilets. You never knew, did you? She’d caved in before, after all.
She tuned back into the conversation to hear Tai’s friend, Nell, describing the prospective night out with great enthusiasm.
“… sort of a jazz-punk fusion style. They’re going to be huge. You should definitely come,” she told Seth, eyes wide with the need to convince him.
“We haven’t had a big night out in ages,” Tai added. “It’ll be a good warm up for Nuala’s party.”
“Yeah, because Nuala’s going to insist on death metal and absinthe,” Seth said, deadpan. “We should limber up beforehand to be sure we can keep up with all the octogenarians.”
Tai ignored him, turning to Lizzie. “You’re up for it, right? Please, Lizzie, it’ll be great!”
Lizzie wavered. She wasn’t so weak that she couldn’t trust herself not to crack the first time she went out after dark, was she? She could handle it without getting roaring drunk, having a panic attack, shapeshifting and killing someone. She was sure she could. And the lure of live music was powerful; she loved the throb and pulse of it, the energy of the crowd, the excitement of the band. It had been too long.
“I’m up for it,” she said, looking at Seth. “You? Or is two nights out in a row too much for you?”
He snorted, drawing himself upright. “I can keep up with you. Out do you, in fact.”
She laughed, eyes gleaming. “Sounds like a challenge to me.”
“We’re on then,” Seth told Tai. “Who else is coming?”
“I’ll call around the group and see,” she replied. “Great! It’s going to be awesome!” She hugged them both and practically skipped off, Nell in tow.
“So is “the group” just Kurtadam, or are the lowly humans allowed to come along too?” Lizzie asked.
“We like to mix with the puny humans every now and then,” Seth replied, returning to staring despairingly at jewellery. “It’s like our charity work. Do you think Nuala would like those earrings?”
twenty four
F
RIDAY NIGHT ROLLED
around fast, and Lizzie found herself fighting nerves as she dressed to go out. It was ridiculous, she told herself, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. These people were her friends now – more than her friends, in Seth’s case. There was no need to feel insecure, inadequate, or afraid.
She checked her nails, pleased to find they were still human finger nails. Checked her pupils, pleased to see they weren’t glowing red. Funny how she used to check how dilated they were, see if she could get away with it when she lied to bouncers about whether she was carrying anything or not. Mind you, the average bouncer would probably see your eyes shine red and decide you were on meth anyway.
Satisfied the Other wasn’t on the verge of chewing its way out of her skin, Lizzie went to her bedroom to rip through her wardrobe. A night in the sticky, sweaty band room of the Barfly didn’t call for anything too special, but she still wanted to look good. She rolled her eyes at herself. Funny what love did to a girl.
Oh. Love. No, not love, not really, not yet. Funny what … good sex did to a girl. Yeah, that was acceptable.
She pulled a skinny Velvet Underground t-shirt on, the iconic banana faded almost to white by years of washing. She dug through her jeans to find a jet black pair that she thought must be pretty new, although she had no recollection of buying them. Quite possibly she’d done it whilst stoned. Oh well. They were clean and fit well, that was all that mattered.
A brushing of bright green eye shadow and a whip of mascara, and Lizzie was satisfied. It didn’t take much to please her these days. Maybe knowing Seth had already seen her covered in black fur and running around on all fours made too much effort redundant.
At six-thirty, she heard a car horn honking outside the house. She threw on her jacket and ran outside to meet Seth. He had Tai and Nell in the back of the car, singing along in awful high-pitched tones to the radio. She really hoped they were faking those strident shrieks, otherwise she’d have to ditch them at the gig.
“Hey Venus,” Seth said as she slid into the passenger seat. “Where are the shiny, shiny boots of leather?”
“Oh, so you are familiar with relevant music?” she teased, kissing his cheek. “It’s not all hair bands and heavy metal?”
“There is nothing irrelevant about Black Sabbath,” he said firmly, pulling away from her house. “They invented heavy metal.”
“That’s nothing to be proud of,” Nell put in from the back seat. She already sounded a little drunk and giggly, and Lizzie could smell the too-sweet scent of alcopops on her breath. The smell evoked memories of summers back home, when she was at sixth form, and the sugary, fruity drinks were the only thing she and her mates could afford for their nights out.
It felt like a long time ago, a world away. She smiled wistfully, wondering what all her old school friends were doing now. Maybe just the same as her, minus the whole full-moon fur-face part.
There was already a queue outside the Barfly when they arrived; apparently Conformity Portrait, the punk-jazz fusion band had a big local following. Lizzie couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the place this full.
The initial crush and clamour caught Lizzie off guard, and she fiercely resisted the urge to cling to Seth like a lost child as they pushed their way to the bar. The Other didn’t like the overwhelming mix of sounds and smells, from phones ringing to feedback from speakers echoing in the band room, from perfume to curry to good old body odour. It was too much to take in and sort through, a myriad of confusing messages.
Lizzie rubbed her temples, wondering how Seth and Tai coped with it. “Who else is coming?” she asked Tai to distract herself.
Tai reeled off a list of names Lizzie didn’t recognise, concluding with, “and then because I asked Ellie, I had to invite Ingrid as well. Sorry.”
Lizzie hid her grimace and scanned the bar for Ingrid. No sign of her yet. Good.
In fact, Ingrid didn’t show up until about an hour later, surrounded by other Kurtadam that Lizzie mostly recognised from the gathering at Nuala’s, but couldn’t put a name to. In all it was a good-sized group, too many of them to fit round the four-person table Lizzie and Seth had nabbed earlier. Instead, people crowded around the table, sat on each other’s laps and leaned over the chairs, intensifying Lizzie’s sense of claustrophobia at first. But then, as the Other settled down, lulled to calm by the scent of so many other werewolves, Lizzie did too, even with Ingrid lurking so close.
The other girl didn’t look dressed for a gig, more like a night at a fancy wine bar on a summer afternoon. Her dress was silly and floaty, bound to get ripped the second she stepped in the mosh pit – although Lizzie struggled to see Ingrid in a mosh pit whatever she wore. She looked beautiful, feminine and elegant, and utterly miserable. Lizzie wondered if she’d just come to glower at her and Seth all night, or if she’d continue her quest for drugs.
Well, that was her lookout. Lizzie sipped her apple juice and resolved to ignore Ingrid. Tonight was going to be good. Live music, fun people. She plucked idly at a flyer on the table for the gig, a lurid pink and turquoise pop art postcard. Conformity Portrait’s name was emblazoned across the centre, but underneath a couple of other bands were listed in small print as opening acts. Lizzie’s throat tightened when she saw Good Thinking Batman scrawled down there.
Shit. She looked up, expecting to Nick to emerge from the crowd any second. God, she did not want to see him again. Ever again. She didn’t trust herself not to knock his coke-covered teeth down his throat. Anger flickered inside her, the Other coming to life again.
Seth squeezed her knee. “You okay?”
She showed him the flyer. “That’s Nick’s band.”
His expression darkened, eyes flaming for a split second. Then he pulled it back, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to leave?”
Did she? It would be easier, she supposed, just running away, but it didn’t feel right. What could Nick really do to her here and now anyway? He’d done the worst and she’d taken it, just like she’d always taken Harris’s slaps and insults and kept on going.
“No, let’s stay,” she told Seth. “I’m a big girl, I can deal with it.”
By eight o’ clock, the first act was ready to start, and everyone filed through to the band room, paying their entrance and getting their hands stamped accordingly. Lizzie couldn’t help a sigh of relief when the group dispersed a little, leaving her with Seth and Tai near the front of the stage. Ingrid slunk off with a couple of other girls to loiter at the side, well away from the main crowd. Afraid of tearing her dress or falling off her sparkly shoes, no doubt. Lizzie allowed herself a smile.
Once the guitars kicked in and the vocalist began screaming down the microphone, she forgot all about Ingrid and Nick, losing herself in the music. It wasn’t the greatest set, but all music was better live anyway, even the mediocre stuff. The energy of the crowd, the snap and flash of cameras and mobile phones, it all seemed to feed the band, push them to perform to their best. And dancing with Seth was a joy in itself, jumping around, thrashing and moshing with abandon, letting the Other emerge just enough to heighten the experience.
It wasn’t anything like being on pills, but the Other’s sharper senses brightened the dim room, bringing Lizzie a rush of excitement. Every lick of the guitar, every flash of light, every note of the singer’s voice was louder, clearer, dazzling. When Seth pulled her into his arms for a kiss, she could taste fruit on his lips from his drink, smell the sandalwood soap he used, almost hear the blood whipping through his veins. She could feel the Other’s enjoyment too, its simple curiosity and pleasure at this new environment. It was heady and dizzying and beautiful, and for the first time she felt connected to her Other. It didn’t feel like a separate entity battling for space inside her, but part of her, and she marvelled over that too.
When the first band’s set was over, Seth disappeared into the main room to buy drinks, while Lizzie slumped against the wall with Tai, breathless and hot. “Are you having fun?” Tai asked, catching Lizzie’s wrist for support as she wavered on her feet.
“Definitely.” Lizzie flicked a damp curl from her face and did a quick scan of the room for Ingrid or Nick. Ingrid was still skulking at the back of the room, face dark. Not having a good time. No sign of Nick, but then Good Thinking Batman weren’t due on for an hour or so yet. He might not even be here yet, too busy chasing ghouls or shooting up.
Whatever. Didn’t matter, wasn’t her problem. She hugged Tai impulsively, needing to share her happiness. It was a need that reminded her keenly of taking pills, that blissful state when you just had to share how amazing, how gorgeous everything was. But the best part now was knowing there was no horrible come-down to get through in the morning.
When Seth returned, she flung her arms round his neck in an extravagant hug, eager to pass her joy onto him. He hugged her back, swinging her around with ease and nearly knocking Tai flying. Lizzie closed her eyes, feeling euphoric, feeling ... home.