Strange Angels by Andrea Speed

Author:Andrea Speed [Speed, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2013-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

Bren found himself sitting at a bar, wondering what was so wrong about the setting. The gel lights on the dance floor were mostly darker hues, purples and blues that reminded him of bruises and decay, but that by itself wasn’t sinister. Well, it was bad design, but it wasn’t making him feel like he didn’t belong here. He wasn’t exactly a master of the aesthetic.

Where did he think he was supposed to be? He couldn’t quite remember anything before this moment, which was weirdness on top of weirdness. What did that mean? He examined the glass in front of him, but it seemed to be full of water, or the mildest vodka in existence. He sipped it to be sure, but it had to be water.

Looking around, feeling the music thudding in his head, Bren still couldn’t figure out what was bothering him so much. It was like he’d walked into the middle of a film, except he was participating in the movie and no one had given him a script. If only there was a director to complain to.

He shoved away from the bar and went for the doors, wondering where this was and if he could ask without seeming like he was high on goofballs. He crashed into someone’s back and stumbled, nearly hitting another person in the process.

“Whoa, dude, you okay?” The man he walked into grabbed his arms to steady him. He was reasonably attractive, with blue eyes and light brown hair, poured into a tight T-shirt and even tighter skinny jeans. Bren thought it was kind of a shame he already had a boyfriend, but then he wondered who his boyfriend was. Huh. Weird. Why couldn’t he remember? A dull ache bloomed in the center of his brain when he tried to force it, so he stopped.

“Yeah. I think I’m getting claustrophobic.”

“I hear ya. C’mon.” The man took his arm, and Bren let him lead him out of the club, into the cool night air. He took a deep breath, like he’d been drowning and had just surfaced, and the man looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Wow, you really have it bad, huh?”

“It hasn’t been a good day.” Bren leaned against the man. He felt strong, like he worked out as regularly as you were supposed to. Bren always found that too ambitious, especially for a wimpy little string bean like himself.

Something weird jumped in the guy’s biceps, like an alien under his skin trying to burst out. Bren let him go, his head swimming, and fell back against the brick wall of the bar. The bricks scraped his palms, cold and rough, and yet it seemed so unreal, especially when the man’s face started . . . shifting. Or something. Muscles twitched under his skin, tics and spasms growing more violent by the second, and yet he was smiling. As his lips stretched, the smile became more deranged and distorted. “What’s wrong, Brendan? Aren’t we all liars beneath the skin?”

Bren tried to slink away, but shock had fixed his feet to the ground.

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