The vibe in the air was characteristic of Rêve: anxiety mixed with a daredevil anticipation. He could pick out the ones who’d been many times before, the Revelers—they had a quiet kind of patience, a desperation in their eyes. They’d found their drug of choice and were quickly going broke looking for their next fix.
For all the so-called safety assessments, yes, Rêve was addictive. The body might not hunger for a fix, but the soul?
He could never give it up. He’d tried.
“Just this way.” Spacey Skirt Girl had stopped outside a door, an arm open to direct them all inside an already full room where, presumably, they would be oriented, something along the lines of, “Blah, blah, limitless possibilities, blah, blah, blah.”
Coll had spouted the same shit to him years ago.
Rook glanced slightly away as he passed the Envoi escort. If discovered, he wouldn’t be detained, not exactly, but there were other ways to fetter guests, like a falcon’s tethering jesses, to restrain a dreamer’s flight.
And the whole point tonight was to hunt for prey.
***
Okay, so maybe the ship was nice.
The Envoi smelled new and clean, the color palette from the taxi’s ramp up the stairs to the wide, long hallway a combination of cobalt blue carpet and pale gold accents. Staff had divested the guests of their coats and had a slender flute of champagne at the ready for each person. A loudly murmuring crowd already filled a large, beautiful room full of jewel-toned light.
Jordan set her flute on a tall, narrow table, in the center of which stood a small blown-glass light fixture, an explosion of color—reminded her of Chihuly—creating a defied-gravity upward impact. The ceiling had similar stalactites of fluid glass illuminated with blues and greens, and hot splashes of red.
It was, in a word, dreamy. Also, high-end. And the design spoke to the surreal, exclusive experience the Envoi offered.
For a couple thousand dollars per night, it’d better be. Her savings had taken a direct and deadly blow to the heart when Maze had told her about what she’d just splurged on. Credit cards equaled free money to sis. There was no way Maze was going alone, so before the Rêve sold out, Jordan had hopped online and brought her balance down to pathetic double digits.
Speaking of Maze…she’d been right here a minute ago. Jordan looked around, then had to smile.
Moths to a flame. Less than twenty seconds and already Maze was chatting with a youngish guy, this one a little too buttoned up for her little sis’s pops and zaps of energy and adventure. But okay. Opposites and all that.
So much for sisterly bonding.
Jordan raised her glass and sipped. The champagne was doing nothing to settle her nerves. She wished the Envoi would move on to phase two already.
Movement brought Jordan’s attention to her right. A man approached—handsome, tall, sandy hair, green eyes—she recognized the face quickly enough to smile, though it took a sec to run down the contact list in her head to recall his name.
Blackman. Vince Blackman. Of the SpiderSly Company.
“It’s Jordan, right?” He held out his hand.
She shook it and went with his first name, too. “Vince. So good…and surprising to see you.”
He did not return her hand, but kept it lightly clasped between his. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch.”
A year ago her market strategy team had pitched to him, but then the project had stalled pending some foreign litigation. Maybe he was ready to reconsider her company’s services. She was so flattered that he remembered her. She hadn’t even been lead, just a helper.
Her heart rate increased. She put her shoulders back, affecting an air of confidence. Inside she was doing her happy little boogie that only Maze had ever seen. This was business. Good business. Potentially worth way more than the ticket had cost.
Playing it cool, she went with, “I’m so glad to hear it.” She’d have to prep tomorrow. Update the specs. “Is this your first Rêve?”
She sure as hell would follow up on Monday morning. Bringing her boss up to speed would feel so good. Like, I bumped into Vince Blackman Saturday night. We were attending the same Rêve and got to talking…
Hello, promotion.
“My first, yes.” His grin crinkled the outer corners of his eyes, creating fans just deep enough to signify a certain degree of life experience. Really, he was perfect. “I’ve been curious about the whole Rêve thing, and when I received the ticket as a gift, I decided to give it a try. You?”
Of course he would get a gift worth a couple thousand dollars. Must be nice.
She winced. “I am more cautious than curious, actually.”
Vince smiled. “Oh?”