Skyborn(11)

"No way," I murmured aloud.

"Act drunk," Keegan whispered in my ear. "I'm your new alpha."

Before I could respond, he yanked me forward so hard that I nearly fell.

"Watch it, dick!" I shouted. Partially because I thought it was what a  drunk person would say and also because I had been dying to call him a  dick all night. Keegan gave me an amused side glance and pressed on.

There was a huge bouncer at the door, standing at least seven feet tall,  with a shaved head and glowing copper eyes. I tried not to stare into  his swirling gaze but I felt entranced by it, finding it almost painful  to look away. Keegan's warning from the alley came to me then and I  clamped my mouth shut so that no lies would spill out.

As soon as we neared, the bouncer scrunched his face and covered his  mouth with the cuff of his long sleeve shirt. I was surprised I hadn't  thrown up on myself from the mixed stench of piss and alcohol.

"Jesus, Keegan. What's this?" The man's voice was distorted, making me wonder if I really was drunk.

Keegan sighed. "Hey, Glum. New pack member. She got Nadine and Gear hurt. We need to see Eva about a healing."

Keegan's words cut right through me. Keegan knew this man could tell a  lie, so he could only speak truth. That meant that he thought I was at  fault for Nadine and Gear's injuries. My stomach knotted with guilt at  the thought. Glum looked at Keegan for another moment, something  swirling in his endless yellow eyes, until finally he must have felt  satisfied and nodded, opening the large brass door to let us enter.

As we passed, Keegan shoved a hundred-dollar bill into a tip jar. Damn,  that would pay my grocery bill for two weeks. I was tempted to snatch it  back out and replace it with a lesser bill, but thought better of it.

The moment we entered the dark room I was saturated with sights and  sounds that were foreign to me. The music was beyond weird. Some kind of  tribal drum and bass, but with a high-pitched live singer. It wasn't  bad, just different. The smell …  was a mix of dog, metal and alcohol. The  place was a pretty good size, with a large U-shaped bar off to the  left, and a stage and dance floor to the right. I could see a second  floor VIP area as well, with people leaning on the railing and looking  down at the dancers. Up on the stage was a pencil-thin singer with  purple-dyed hair and a half a dozen backup dancers. Now that we were  inside, Keegan dropped my arm and Logan replaced him, clutching tightly  to my upper arm and dragging me across the dance floor.

"I know how to walk," I growled. What was with this handoff? Logan,  Keegan, Logan again. It was like Keegan was just the alpha for show but  Logan really called the shots. Their dynamic was weird and hard to read.

"And I know how to keep you alive," he countered, maneuvering through a  crowd of burly men wearing business suits and holding scotch glasses.

As we passed, one of them looked right at me and his nostrils flared. Then just as quickly his face scrunched in repulsion.

"Who are they?" I indicated the business-suited men after we had passed. Logan was speed-walking us to the VIP lounge.

He glanced at the men and then leaned into me. "Those are Collectors.  Very powerful sorcerers that would cut us into a thousand pieces and  sell us for parts if they knew what we were."

My gut clenched and I felt fear saturate my body. My dragon stirred in  anxiety and I knew it would be suicide if I transformed now, so I took  three deep breaths.

I am safe. I am safe. I am safe. Logan will keep me safe, I chanted to my dragon.

The fear dissipated a little and her stirring lessoned. Shit, that was a close call.

Logan seemed to understand. "After tonight, I need to train you, for all of our sakes," he grumbled.

I just nodded. I didn't know where I saw myself tomorrow, next week, next year. I was living this shitstorm one day at a time.                       
       
           



       

Keegan and the rest of the pack arrived at my back as we reached the VIP lounge staircase.

"Logan!" A twenty-something brunette stick figure with boobs shrieked as she jumped up and down.

Logan looked embarrassed. "Hey, Monica. Is Eva upstairs? It's urgent."

Monica scrunched her nose up at me and looked beyond us at an injured Nadine and Gear.

"Sure thing." She unhooked the velvet cord that barred our access and  let us upstairs. As we walked up the first few steps, I heard Sophie's  voice behind me as she muttered to Monica:

"Slut."

Monica fired back: "Dog."

My eyebrows hit my hairline. It seemed Sophie wasn't the friendly type.

"Not tonight, ladies," Keegan warned with a growl in his throat.

Damn, Sophie didn't hold back her feelings, did she? She had zero filter  between thoughts to verbal utterances, and she seemed to have a lot of  enemies. Including me.

As we made our way up the stairs, Logan muttered to me: "Sophie is a  tough nut to crack, but once she lets you in, she's a fiercely loyal  friend."

"Right. I'll keep that in mind when we become besties," I growled. I didn't even want to think about her letting Logan "in."

As we reached the top of the stairs, I saw that we had been transported  to a plush and swanky velvet lounge. The walls, the couches, the table  tops, everything was black and purple velvet. People milled around, some  doing the gross making out thing and others just talking, but one  couple caught my eye.

The man wore a suit and top hat, and in his right hand was yellow fire!  It floated about a quarter of an inch off of his palm, and the woman he  was with was using her hand to change the colors. The flame flickered  from yellow to blue to green as she waved her fingers.

Logan saw me looking and yanked me away. "Lower class magic users. Just a party trick. Come on."

Just a party trick? That was the coolest thing I had ever seen. As we  passed the low-lit tables I saw that above the tables were cutouts in  the walls. Dancers wearing tiny purple velvet shorts and matching purple  velvet bras thrust their hips out to the music. Most of the dancers  were female but a few were male. Tip jars lay at their feet and were  overflowing with twenty-dollar bills. Damn, I was in the wrong business.

I heard Keegan growl low behind me. Craning my head back, I saw him  glaring at one of the male dancers. A bar patron was shoving a twenty  dollar bill in the elastic of his waistband. Once he had finished  tucking the bill in, the bar patron turned back to look at Keegan as if  he sensed or smelled him. He had sleek black hair, shaved at the sides  and big on top-one of those hot hipster guys. He took one look at  Keegan, his mouth pursing to a thin line, and gave a little wave before  turning back towards the dancer.

Nadine was white as a sheet in Keegan's arms, but spoke through gritted  teeth. "If you still love him, then you should just tell him."

Keegan scoffed and looked elsewhere. "He's the one who left."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. Damn, big badass alpha was gay? My gaydar  must be broken because I could usually call that. That'll teach me not  to stereotype. As we beelined it towards a set of double doors, I saw  the guy Keegan had been sulking about look longingly at Keegan's back.  Love could be painful, and in this moment, I was super glad to be  single.

Finally, we reached the closed doors and Logan wasted no time banging  furiously on them. After a moment's pause, a large man who looked like  another bodyguard opened it. He took one look at Logan and nodded.

"She's busy with another customer. You'll have to wait."

I could see the muscles in Logan's jaw tighten. The guard looked at me  and recoiled. "Leave that stinky mutt outside. She won't want it in the  office."

"What the hell did you just call me?" I stepped forward, but Logan yanked me back.

"Tell Eva I have a gold unicorn," Logan said firmly.

The guard rolled his eyes. "Are you drunk, Logan?"

"Tell her! She'll know what it means!" he ordered, and I felt some type  of power in his voice. It pushed against my skin like a physical thing.

The guard sighed and left.

Not thirty seconds later the door flew open and a beautiful woman with  long black hair who looked to be in her early forties was ushering her  client out. "Come back tomorrow. I'm closed now."

The client, an older man in his fifties, looked offended, but nodded.

The woman's eyes then fell on me. Her nostrils flared but she didn't  recoil. Instead, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and then  rose again in wonder.

"Nick, out!" she yelled behind her at the guard.                       
       
           



       

He looked hurt for a moment, but must have been used to the behavior, because he shuffled past us holding his nose.

"Logan, what have you brought me?" Her voice held disbelief.