Thicker Than Water by Carla Jablonski

Author:Carla Jablonski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US

TEN

Wind whipped along the wide and deserted streets of Brooklyn, ruffling Kia’s hair, stinging her eyes and making them tear. Her feet pounded the broken pavement as she hurried away from the trendy streets toward the desolate area near the river where the clubs were. Her ears tingled with cold and from the strain of trying to hear the music, her body aching with the need to cut, the need to dance.

That’s the fastest I’ve ever made it here from the subway, she thought, arriving at the entrance to Vampyre Central. She opened the door, briefly wondering where Scream the doorman was.

She stood at the entrance, blinking. Something was horribly wrong.

The music blasting wasn’t the goth, synth, dark wave undulating and hypnotic beats and music filled with rage, outrage, despair, and dark beauty. This music was bouncy, guitar heavy, chord chimey, voice twangy, and hard on Kia’s ears.

And the people! Kia saw cowboy boots everywhere she turned. Cowboy hats. Ruffled skirts, a sea of denim, bandannas, and big hair.

She stumbled backward, reeling from the bizarre sight. She put out her hand to steady herself on the door frame.

A woman in a gingham top tied at the waist, skintight blue jeans, and pink cowboy boots approached her.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked, obviously confused by Kia’s presence.

“I—I think I came on the wrong night,” Kia said.

“We’re only here once a month,” the woman said. “Classic country.”

Kia nodded. “Oh.”

“So, I guess you won’t be staying,” the woman added. It was definitely a statement, not a question or an invitation.

Not that Kia wanted to stay. Not even a tiny piece of her littlest toenail wanted to stay in that club. “Nope!”

“Hope you find what you’re looking for,” the woman said as Kia turned to go.

Now what? Frustration, disappointment, and fear tumbled around inside her. She gnawed on her nails. They had to be somewhere, right? He couldn’t have just vanished.

Her shoulders sagged. Damon was the one she was really after. It was Damon she had wanted to turn to, be comforted by. That was crazy and she knew it. He wasn’t her boyfriend; he was barely her friend.

But maybe he could be. Maybe, if she opened up to him, he’d open up to her. Maybe, if she could just get into his arms, into his orbit, his inner circle, she could get into his life.

Kia ran her hands along her arms, trying to warm up, trying to quiet the noise in her veins. She squeezed first one forearm, then the other, as if the pressure would soothe her need. It didn’t.

She had to find him.

She walked toward another club she’d been to with Hecate, but when she approached the entrance, she saw that the door was locked and the lights were off. She stared at the metal grate covering the door. Where else could he be? She had no idea where he lived, no idea what he might do on a night he wasn’t spinning discs.

The clubs in Manhattan. On the Lower East Side.

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