Page 25 of Fanged Secrets
Amara was here and the two people beside me wanted her dead.
Chapter 14
Amara
Tracking down the strange white-haired woman was not what I had planned to do with my day, but anything was better than going back to an empty apartment. I followed the signal through the city, braving taxi cabs and traveling on foot, and the sun was just dipping behind the skyline by the time I reached the spot where the tracker stopped moving. The exact location, to my surprise, was familiar – one of my father’s bars, and I spotted the sleek silver car parked at the curb nearby. My curiosity spiked. What was the relationship between this strange woman and my father? Her being here pretty much confirmed that she was one of my father’s associates, but to what end I didn't have a clue.
The woman’s strange words rattled around in my head. "You are to be someone else's prey." I didn’t know what to make of it. The words themselves felt like a threat, but the look in her eyes had been almost pitying. With that grim prophecy hanging over my head, I crossed the street and slipped into the bar, ducking past the bouncer whose face I vaguely recognized from one ofmy father’s extravagant dinner parties. The memories of my childhood were jumbled and disorderly, but I recalled enough to know to steer clear of the hulking man.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol. The sun had barely set, but the place was packed, a mass of bodies strewn across the sparse furniture, congealing on the dancefloor under flashing strobe lights. The bar was a sea of faces, but none of them were the one I was looking for.
I began to weave through the crowd, keeping my eyes peeled for the white-haired woman. The flashing lights made it difficult to tell one swaying body from another. As I squeezed past a particularly rowdy group, someone careered into me, spilling their drink all over my shirt. Any other day I would have brushed it off, but frustration flared up inside me.
I turned to the offender, a drunk guy who barely noticed what he had done, and signed a silent insult – a brief fist tapping my forehead, “idiot” – not that he had the slightest clue what it meant. When he blinked in obvious confusion I felt a pang of guilt at taking out my anger on some unsuspecting college kid.
Before I could take another step I felt cold fingers close around my elbow, a hand roughly yanking me aside. Startled, I jerked my head up to see who had grabbed me and found myself face-to-face with Dylan. Her expression was grim, and she steered me into the far corner of the club, spinning me around to face her.
Her grip on my shoulders was firm, and I could vaguely read her lips as she asked, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Stunned at seeing her in the cramped bar I could only stare, my mind racing to fill in the gaps. My damp shirt clung to my chest, rapidly rising and falling as my pulse quickened.
“Amara!” Her lips moved quickly, and she kept glancing over her shoulder like she was expecting to see someone. Her nails dug into my shoulders and confusion muddled my mind. Why was Dylan here in the first place? The Leyore had sworn to stayoff of Don's turf. And more importantly, was her presence here somehow related to the silver-haired woman?
Before I could respond, Dylan's expression shifted to one of urgency. She mouthed, "You shouldn't be here."
I furrowed my brow, flailing hands trying to object, but she gripped my chin and firmly turned my head toward another corner of the club. Her lips moved forcibly when she asked, “Do you recognize that woman?”
There were over a dozen women mingling behind us, and at first, I had no idea who she was referring to. But a moment later, past her shoulder, I saw the silvery-haired woman standing in conversation with another fair-haired man. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt an irrational pang of fear when her words came screaming back to me again.
Dylan must have noticed my reaction, the slight widening of my eyes, because she immediately stepped closer, shielding me with her body. She leaned her forearm against the wall next to my head and used her other hand to pin me gently but firmly against the wall. The motion was uncomfortably familiar, and my heart gave a quick thump in my chest. The shadows around us seemed to thicken, extending outwards along the floor and up the wall behind me like an inconspicuous veil.
Dylan ducked her head down near mine. Her lips moved, and in the shadows I could barely read them. "We need to talk. Outside."
Tugging at my arm, she guided me into the throng of people. "Act natural and try to blend in."
Dread churned in my gut, but I nodded, swallowing hard, and followed her lead. Together, we started making our way through the club, trying to look like we belonged. My heart was racing, and my mind was spinning with questions. What was happening, what did Dylan know, and how much danger was I really in?
Dylan seemed familiar with the strange woman somehow, and it was clear she wasn’t a fan. It was possible this woman was working with Don in some elaborate plan to take down the Leyore syndicate. But that still didn’t explain her cryptic words.
I didn’t have much time to ponder it though. Dylan pulled me close as the music began to swell, the bass vibrating through the floor so intense I could feel it under my feet. We pretended to dance together, moving in surprising synchronicity, all the while edging our way toward the exit. Somewhere along the way I had lost sight of the white-haired man who had been speaking to the woman, and that concerned me. He could be anywhere.
Dylan kept a tight hold on me, her eyes scanning the room. She took great care to keep me hidden from the woman, who still stood in the corner. I mimicked Dylan, the both of us turning our heads as if in time with the music, searching for where the other man had gone.
We finally made it to the edge of the busy bar counter, inching closer to our escape. But before we could make a break for the exit Dylan’s eyes flashed, and I followed her gaze to see the white-haired man approaching to my right. He pulled out a wad of cash and waved down the bartender.
Panic spiked in my chest and I looked at Dylan. If we didn’t do something quickly he was going to see us, but the exit was blocked by a group of drunk students falling all over each other, their mouths cracked wide open in laughter that I couldn’t hear. There was no way to get past them without making a scene.
Without warning, Dylan grabbed me and kissed me forcibly, her mouth roughly colliding with mine. I froze on the spot, every hair on my body standing at attention, my mind reeling from the suddenness of the kiss. But as her arms wrapped around me, angling our bodies away from the approaching stranger, I caught on to what Dylan was doing. I relaxed into her hold, understanding the necessity of the ruse.
Dylan’s kiss was both a disguise and something more. Her lips moved against mine with an intensity that left me breathless. My fingers snaked up her neck, tangling in her hair, and I kissed her back, my heart pounding in my chest. I meant it far more than I intended to, and from the way Dylan’s hold tightened around me, I wondered if she felt the same.
The kiss went on far longer than necessary, and when she finally pulled away we were both flushed. With her lips still hovering inches from mine, Dylan looked at me with a mix of lust, longing, and crumbling restraint, her grip on me unyielding.
Behind her, the man had gotten his drink and was quickly moving away again. Dylan glanced over her shoulder and noticed it too, abruptly letting go of me and taking a small step back. She gestured at the dispersing students and I fell into step behind her, sticking so close I nearly tripped her up as we made our way out of the bar. The cool night air hit my flushed face, a stark contrast to the heated intensity inside. The bouncer, to my relief, was nowhere to be seen.
Dylan’s dark eyes were still scanning our surroundings and she turned in quick, jumpy circles as she ushered me further down the street. Finally, when she was satisfied with the distance we’d put between us and the bar, she turned to me, her expression deadly serious.
“All right. The moment we get home you need to tell me everything you know about that woman.”
