I place my hands on her face and rub her cheeks with my thumbs, trying to soothe her. She opens her mouth to say something, but before any sound comes out, I push my body into hers. I do it quickly, like she asked, dissolving and pouring into her in one smooth motion.
Wren gasps, surprised by the suddenness, and I spread through her body rapidly.
“Are you okay?”I ask once I’m inside.
“Yes,”she responds through our thought connection.“It was just sudden. Took me by surprise.”
“You asked me to do it quickly,”I say, my mental voice gruff.
“Fair enough.”
Wren grabs her car keys and walks out of the motel room. She crosses the parking lot to the beat-up Honda Civic, and hops in the driver’s seat, starting the engine. She drives through dark streets, then parks the car a few blocks away from our destination. I see everything through her eyes.
Wren walks toward the club with confidence, and the bouncer at the door looks her over before waving her through. Heavy bass is thumping from inside, and when she pulls open the door, the sound hits us hard.
The music pounds so loud, it vibrates through Wren’s bones. The smells hit next – sweat and alcohol, cigarette smoke and drugs. Bodies are packed together on the dance floor, and strobe lights cut through the darkness. Both humans and monsters fill the space, and I see women dancing naked in the laps of various monsters. There’s an ogre with a woman grinding against him,and a vampire in a corner with two women draped over him. A snake-like creature is coiled around a chair, with a woman in his coils. Cash is changing hands, and drugs are passed openly. This is an illegal operation and everyone knows it.
I’m used to places like this from past jobs but experiencing it through Wren feels different. She’s a woman, and she’s vulnerable. Even though she’s an FBI agent, she’s still at risk.
A protective instinct surges through me, and I swear to myself that if anyone so much as bumps into her, I’ll break their bones.
“Easy, cowboy,”Wren says.“Don’t go feral on me and make me break arms out of the blue. If someone bumps into me, so what? We have to stay low, not cause a fuss.”
“I’m sorry,”I tell her.“I won’t think evil thoughts again.”
She’s amused at that.
“Evil is fine by me.Just as long as it doesn’t get me into trouble.”
Wren weaves through the crowd, heading toward the bar. She slides onto a barstool and flags down the bartender.
“Is it okay if I drink a beer?”she asks me.
“Yes,”I say, confused by the question.“Why?”
“It kind of occurred to me that you can taste everything I taste.”
She doesn’t elaborate further.
I realize she’s thinking about the cigarette earlier. She’s being considerate and asking before she consumes something I might not like. Her thoughtfulness leaves me feeling warm and a little bit stunned.
The bartender slides a beer across the bar, and Wren takes a long drink. It’s cold and bitter, but not unpleasant. She looks around casually while drinking, straightening her back and making herself visible. She’s on display, waiting to be noticed.
A woman stops in front of Wren, does a double take, then throws her arms around her.
“My, my, look who’s here! Wren! When did you get out, girl?”
The woman is human, in her early thirties, heavily made up and wearing a tight dress and high heels.
“A few months ago,” Wren says.
“Why didn’t you reach out?”
“I was busy, Tasha. My life is in shambles. I’m looking for work but can’t find anything.”
Her tone is perfect – bitter, struggling and desperate. I’m impressed by her acting.
Tasha grabs Wren’s hand and drags her across the dance floor.
