“In that case, call my wife. I’m heading out of town for a few days.”
Jude nodded. “Will do.”
Once back in the car, Jude started her rant. “What the hell was that all about? Did you see how that kid was looking at you? What a creep.” She went on about ungrateful rich kids and “It’s his laptop that was stolen, after all.”
Nathan hardly registered what she was saying; his mind buzzed. When Jude stopped the car, he realized she’d asked him a question. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said I’m hungry and going to grab something to eat. Do you want anything?”
Nathan winced. His stomach was currently empty, but he still had a trace of nausea left from having to walk past the Diamantium chandelier a second time on the way out of the Branstone’s. “No thanks. I’m fine.”
“Okay, I’ll just be a sec.”
Once she was gone, Nathan pulled out his phone and dialed a number. After a few rings, a male voice answered.
“Yeah?”
“Where are you?” Nathan asked. “Are you in town?”
“No, not at the moment. Why?”
“Good. Don’t come to my place. I’ve attracted the attention of some Erathi hunters.”
There was a pause. “Oh, you sure you don’t want me to—”
“No,” said Nathan. “It’s best you stay away. I’ll call you when . . . if it’s safe to come back.”
9
Psycho Death Grip
Violet stepped out of the shower and dried off, catching a glimpse of her body in the mirror on the bathroom door. Pale lines raked over one side of her ribs, mottled scars covered her elbows and knees, and ghosts of small cuts and grazes were still evident on her face, her palms, and most of her fingers. Yet she held no memory of receiving any of them.
The most perplexing scars were the ones on her back. She swiveled around and craned her neck to inspect her lower back in the mirror. On either side of her spine were her Venus dimples, but instead of two little divots, they were raised mounds of marbled tissue, as if burned from either acid or fire. These scars were set apart from her other signs of abuse; they were too symmetrical, too planned. No doctor or nurse could explain the scars when Violet had asked about them in the hospital.
Shaking her head, she once again dropped the unsolved mystery and wiggled into her dress. Should she put on makeup or not? Leaning close to the mirror, she inspected her face and frowned. She’d never liked the color of her eyes. They were more gray than blue, as if the blue pigment had run out when her eyes were being made. And, ugh! Was she getting eye bags? The dark shadows under her eyes stood out against her pale skin. The assignments were coming in thick and fast, and the late study nights were already catching up with her. How did everyone else seem to maintain both their study and social lives?
A wave of exhaustion enveloped her, and she considered changing into her pajamas and falling asleep to a movie on her laptop. But there was no way Autumn, Gus, and Bessie would let her stay home, especially not after skipping out on the last party. Besides, she may as well make the most of her college experience.
She rummaged around in Autumn’s makeup bag. “Hey, Autumn, do you have any concealer I can borrow?” she called out.
Makeup was one thing about the female prerogative Violet had never gotten on board with, although she’d stolen a watermelon-flavored lip gloss from a store once when she was fourteen. She’d lost track of it after about three foster homes; another foster child had likely snatched it.
Autumn poked her head into the bathroom and leaned on the door frame. “I’ve got a few concealers, but I’m not sure I can help you. None are the color ‘corpse.’”
Violet pouted, admiring Autumn’s golden skin tones. She could definitely pass as a beach babe. All she needed was a bikini and surfboard.
Autumn folded her arms. “Why the interest in makeup all of a sudden? You’ve never put any on since I met you. Not that you need any, by the way.” She screwed up her nose. “You’re one of those annoying girls who always looks like she’s ‘hashtag-woke-up-like-this.’”
Violet laughed. “More like ‘hashtag-what-does-the-sun-look-like?’”
Autumn laughed. “A little sun wouldn’t hurt, right?”
“Yeah, well, not all of us were raised to embrace a hippie alternative lifestyle.”
“Hey, don’t let the dreadlocks fool you. The city life is what I crave, regardless of how much I complain about store-bought milk.”
Violet chuckled.
“You better go change, Vi.” Autumn checked her watch. “We only have a few minutes before the others get here.”
“I’m ready to go,” said Violet, trying to make sense of Autumn’s numerous makeup products.
“What do you mean?” Autumn frowned at Violet’s outfit. “You can’t wear that.”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?”
Autumn put a hand on her hip. “It’s black.”
Violet tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows. Autumn’s dress had a galaxy print on a navy background, and she’d dyed a few of her dreadlocks various fluorescent colors to match.
“You can’t wear black to a black light party,” said Autumn.
“What?” Violet stroked her hands on the soft fabric of her dress. “Why not?”
“Because an all-black outfit will make you invisible, and not to mention, every bit of lint and white fluff will be super obvious.”
“Oh.” Violet tugged at the hem of her dress and inspected it a little closer.
“Hey, guys, we’re here,” called Gus.
“We’re in the bathroom,” said Autumn.
“If the bathroom door’s open, then I’m expecting you to be fully dressed. It’s too early in the evening for nudity,” said Gus.
Bessie appeared in the bathroom doorway. “Hey, girls, what do you think?”
Violet’s eyes bugged as Bessie twirled to show off her outfit. She wore a bob-length neon-green wig and matching green lipstick. Glow sticks and neon armbands complemented her hot-pink tank top and fluorescent tutu skirt.
Bessie held out her hands. “Check this out. I’ve just had them done.” Her nails were a neon blend of hot pink at the bases and green at the tips. “You like?”
Autumn smiled and nodded. “Awesome! They look so cool.”
“Is it safe to look?” said Gus, still out of view.
Violet grinned and Autumn rolled her eyes. “Yes, Gus. I know you’re dying to show us your outfit. The stage is all yours.”
Gus jumped next to Bessie and let out a “Ta-daaa.”
“Woah,” said Violet.
Gus turned to give the girls full view of his all-neon attire. He was wearing lemon-yellow dress pants with a pink button-up shirt under an orange jacket.
“I couldn’t find any neon shoes, but I did find a can of neon-blue hairspray.” He held up a foot, showing off the new color of his once white sneakers.
“Wow!” said Autumn. “Amazing!”
Gus hooked his thumbs under the collar of the jacket, a salesman smirk on his face. His smirk turned into a frown when he looked at Violet. “You’re not wearing that to a black light party, are you?”
Violet rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing. Let’s just go.”
“Nuh-uh. Nope.” Autumn grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her out of the bathroom until they stood in front of Autumn’s wardrobe. “Bessie, you do hair, and I’ll do the outfit.”
Their shoes tapped rhythmically on the city street pavement, falling into sync with the aid of the thudding rave music a few blocks ahead. A mixture of hot food fragrances from various surrounding restaurants and food trucks floated past. Violet’s stomach grumbled as she caught a whiff of butter chicken, spiced rice, and other delicacies from the Indian restaurant across the street. She doubted this party was going to have food anywhere near as aromatic or appetizing. She should have eaten before they left.
Violet wrapped the collar of her jacket tighter
around her neck. She’d lost count of the number of things she was already regretting on this freezing cold night, but Autumn’s choice of outfit for her definitely topped the list. She tugged on the hem of her all-white dress. The stretchy fabric hugged tight to every curve, leaving very little to the imagination. It also persistently glided up as she walked; a pair of hot-pink leggings—Bessie’s suggestion—was the only thing saving her from complete shame. She couldn’t keep her switchblade on her person in this getup, so she’d hidden it in a flamingo clutch, another item Autumn had let her borrow for the night.
Violet yanked a little harder on the thigh-high hem, and Autumn slapped her hand. “Stop it. You’ll ruin my dress.”
“There’s not enough fabric in this thing to even be considered a dress,” Violet gritted out. “I can’t believe I let you convince me to wear this out in public.”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “You look fine, Vi. Amazing, actually. Now, stop whining.”
When they reached the end of the street, Autumn flung her arms out, stopping the group before they turned into the alley. “Wait! Before I forget, you’re gonna need one of these.” She opened her shiny gold clutch and handed each of them a card. “You can thank Prophecy03 for the fake IDs.”
“Who?” said Violet.
Gus groaned. “It’s one of Autumn’s hacker buddies.”
Bessie squealed in delight as she took her card.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Violet eyed the photo of herself next to the name Vanessa Smith. “Seriously, Autumn, if Nathan finds out, he’s going to kill me.”
Autumn smirked. “So don’t let him find out.” She linked arms with Violet and Bessie and dragged them around the corner.
Two bouncers stood in front of the doorway of a seedy establishment scrawled with graffiti tags. The fluorescent attire of the patrons flowing in and out contrasted starkly with the dark, derelict alley.
“Wait,” said Violet, “this is a club. I thought you said we were going to a college party.”
Autumn tilted her head and shrugged one shoulder. “Well, technically, I said a lot of people from college might be going to this party.”
Violet scanned the faces of the neon people, not recognizing any of them.
“Come on, Vi.” Autumn nudged her. “Lighten up. A night off campus isn’t going to hurt. Seriously, a change of scenery will be good for us.” She latched on to Violet’s arm and dragged her forward.
The others glided through the bouncer’s inspection with ease. Violet’s heart pounded when the bouncer glanced a few times between her and the fake ID, and when he finally waved her through, she barely avoided a visible sigh of relief.
Once inside, Violet sucked in a breath, the full-force electronic beats vibrating through her chest. “Wow.”
Deep indigo bathed the club, cut through by pops of illuminated yellows, greens, blues, pinks, and magentas. The patrons’ clothing ranged from glowing neons to strobing LED lights. One guy even had on a shirt that illuminated to each pounding beat of the music, while another was wearing UV orange contact lenses. Another girl’s black vinyl corset had pink LED lighting in a geometric pattern, accentuating her curvaceous body. A tight crowd writhed on the dance floor, watched by onlookers from a U-shaped balcony on the second level.
Violet turned to her friends and gasped at the illuminated transformation of Bessie’s and Gus’s outfits and Autumn’s galaxy print. She looked down at her own white dress, now glowing an icy blue.
Autumn giggled and shouted over the music. “See, I told you. You look great. You should see your hair!”
Violet reached for a handful of her loose hair and grinned. The fluorescent hair chalk Bessie had put in was lit up in a vibrant rainbow.
Bessie grabbed Autumn’s arm and shouted. “Come on, let’s get some drinks.”
A few minutes later, the two returned with a tray of about twenty glowing shot glasses, with Bessie grinning as if she’d just won the lottery.
Violet’s jaw dropped. “Whoa! How drunk are you guys planning on getting?”
Bessie shrugged. “I didn’t know what to get, so the bartender suggested I try an assortment.”
“Tell them the truth.” Autumn smirked. “You just got hustled by the hot bartender.”
Violet laughed, once again eyeballing the crowded tray. “Just how hot was this guy?”
“I dunno, I couldn’t tell under the black light. But he had an epic mohawk.”
Violet and Gus shared a look of disbelief and joined the girls in a few group shots. It took a few rounds, but Violet got used to the tangy burn the alcohol carved down her throat, and before long she started to enjoy the warm buzz. To her surprise, the four of them managed to empty the tray in no time.
Bessie squealed and pointed to a corner of the club. “Yes! They have body painters here!”
Before anyone could respond, she’d already dragged them halfway to the body-painting station.
Later, at a table Autumn had miraculously managed to snag—the girl certainly had a flair about her—Violet admired a UV floral design painted up the length of her arm.
“What do you think?” Bessie shoved her own face into Violet’s view, pointing to the neon butterfly on her cheek. Violet grinned and held up both thumbs.
“I can’t avoid it any longer. I need to dance!” Gus took hold of Bessie’s arm and dragged her to the dance floor, yelling a warning to Violet on the way. “Keep an eye on Autumn, will ya? She can be sneaky.”
He and Bessie joined the edge of the crowd. Gus’s orange jacket and Bessie’s neon-green wig stood out like beacons, even among the fluorescent horde. Violet couldn’t help giggling at their outrageous dance moves. If only she could be that carefree. Lyla would have been up there with them. Not only would she have matched their crazy dancing; she would’ve stolen the show.
She checked her watch and her eyes widened. “Whoa! Do you have any idea what time it is, Autumn? We should probably think about heading home soon.”
Autumn shook her head and took another sip of her drink. “Nope. Can’t leave. I haven’t seen him yet.”
Violet’s brows drew together. “Him? Him who?”
“Actually, speaking of guys . . .” Autumn waved her hand dismissively, her words a little slurred. “When are you going to tell me about this guy you keep talking about? I hear he likes scorpions.”
An icy chill crushed Violet’s warm alcoholic buzz. “What?”
Autumn slid across the booth seat closer to Violet and propped a hand under her chin expectantly. “I said, ‘I hear he likes—’”
“I heard what you said. I’ve never spoken about a guy. Or . . . or any guys.” She hadn’t even told anyone about Thane.
Autumn nodded, her head bouncing up and down with more vigor than necessary. “Yes, yes, you have. I heard. I heard when you were sleeping.” She leaned her head on Violet’s shoulder and looked up with glassy eyes. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”
The muscles in Violet’s face tensed, and the alcohol in her stomach turned sour. “I need a glass of water.” She stood up, and Autumn toppled into her vacant spot.
“Violet, wait! You haven’t told me what he looks like. You haven’t—” The thumping music drowned out the rest as Violet shoved through the dancers, making a beeline for the exit.
Bodies and limbs jostled her in all directions, hindering her quick escape. Violet’s chest heaved as her world spun in a frenzied tangle of illuminated colors. She needed to run. To get away from this demon that ruled her past and her nightmares.
Her knees buckled.
The features of the dancers around her became unfocused, blurred. Faceless, like the man in her dreams.
She clamped her eyes shut, but it did nothing to erase the image of her deepest fears. The crystal scorpion on his neck burned into her eyes, more vibrant than ever. In her mind, the faceless man reached toward her.
“Violet!” A heavy hand clapped against her shoulder.
She screamed and spun around, p
anic battering at her chest.
It was only Gus.
“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Violet panted, clutching and bunching the fabric over her rapidly beating heart. She moaned and pressed a hand to her forehead. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
“Where’s Autumn?” Gus shouted.
“What?”
Gus’s eyes were huge, intense.
“Gus? Are you okay?”
“Where’s Autumn?” he shouted again.
“She’s . . . um . . .” Violet cast a look around, getting her bearings.
Gus shook her shoulders. “Violet, where is she?”
She pointed in the direction of the table she’d left just moments ago, but a new group of clubbers now occupied it, none of which were Autumn. “Um . . . She was—”
Gus spat out a few choice words. The decibel of his exclamation competed with the volume of the music. “I knew this would happen! You guys don’t know her like I do. We have to find her.” He linked his arm through hers and barged through the crowd.
“Wait, where’s Bessie?” Violet yelled.
“She’s at the bar.”
Violet spotted a green wig in the long lineup for drinks.
“Hopefully we’ll find Autumn before she’s served,” continued Gus. “Come on, let’s try this way.”
People bumped and jostled them, and Violet’s skin prickled with sweat from the compacted heat of so many bodies. She couldn’t fathom how warm Gus must be in his jacket. She scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of fluorescent dreadlocks and a galaxy dress.
“There!” Gus yelled, pointing to the upstairs balcony.
Violet sighed in relief. Autumn was leaning against the balustrade, twirling a dreadlock with one hand and holding a drink in the other. She giggled as a guy circled his arm around her waist. A UV dragon snaked across the guy’s ebony skin, from his face down to his neck.
Gus locked his arm tighter around Violet’s and dragged her to the stairs.
They fought their way up, dodging the herd of people on their way back to the dance floor and bar. Violet had to hustle to match Gus’s speed. Once at the top, they made a beeline to the balustrade, but the spot where they’d seen Autumn was now empty.
Shards of Venus Page 8
