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Mira could feel the bass from the music in steady beats through the stone walls.
A blond woman with tan skin and a black dress greeted them with a warm smile.
“Good evening, Mr. Dawson.”
Correction—greeted him.
“It is good to have you back,” she said.
How often had he been to this place?
“May I take your coats?” the woman asked, and Mira flinched.
He took off his and held out a hand to take hers. She didn’t move. Exposing her scar made her skin crawl.
“Coats aren’t allowed inside, I’m afraid,” the hostess clarified.
You’re ridiculous, Mira thought to herself. It’s a stupid old wound. Nothing will happen if you leave it uncovered for a few hours. Just take off your coat like a normal person. Do it. But she couldn’t seem to move. She wanted to scream at herself.
“No shame in turning around,” Dawson said. “I can go by myself.”
This spheres-forsaken scar had ruled her life, and tonight she wouldn’t let it. She took off her coat, and the moment cool air brushed against her scar, her chest tightened with anxiety.
“Are you familiar with the protocol for guests?” the hostess asked.
“I am,” he responded coolly, and pulled up his sleeve, exposing his left wrist.
Mira, however, was not familiar with the protocol.
“This is a gentleman’s club,” he explained.
She had figured as much.
“And?”
“Women aren’t allowed inside unless as guest of a member. I have to vouch for you.”
The hostess held her hand open and smiled at Mira expectantly.
“How are you going to vouch for me?”
“Think of it as a wristband.”
Keeping her left arm with the scar pressed tightly against her body, she offered her right wrist to the hostess. Dawson held his wrist over hers.
The hostess cast a spell, and dark gray light glittered, dancing over Mira’s wrist. She wasn’t familiar with the spell.
When it was done, she stared at her skin and her heart sank. There, right over her main artery on the tender inside of her wrist, were letters she hoped were an illusion, but the black ink didn’t lie.
Property of Aidric Dawson
A knot formed in her stomach and she felt lightheaded.
He leaned in. “I told you.”
The door to the club opened. Loud music and the smell of spent magic surrounded her.
“Enjoy,” the hostess said.
