No longer purple.
“Where am I?” she asked.
Pink Fedora slipped away.
Sean stared into those normal eyes, and no amount of desensitizing substances in his blood could have alleviated the fear that washed over him in that moment. He hadn’t imagined it. It wasn’t the alcohol.
Which meant?—
Still holding the girl’s weight in his arms, he darted glances allaround him. For every two sets of normal eyes, he found one with that strange, subtle sheen.
Purple Rain pushed away from him. “Who are you?” she screamed over the music. “Did you drug me?”
Luckily no one else seemed to hear that. “Of course not. You just invited me to leave with you.”
“No, I didn’t.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, wincing. “I—I was in the bathroom. Where are my friends?”
Did she really have no memory of coming onto him? What the fuck was happening?
He swiftly lost interest in Purple Rain since she appeared to have more questions than answers. Pink Fedora, however, might shed some light over this mystery. She might be connected to all the secrets. She might help him understand.
Hehadto know.
“I don’t know what happened to you,” he said to the panicking girl before him. “Are you okay? You have a phone?”
She patted her tiny purse and nodded, her brow scrunched—whether in pain or confusion, he couldn’t tell.
“Call your friends.” He bounced on his toes while he waited for her to comply, antsy to find answers but unwilling to leave this confused woman alone. Once she had a hold of someone, she eyed him warily and pointed in another direction, moving slowly that way. Without further discussion, he left her amid the sea of dancers.
How the hell was he supposed to find a pink fedora in this laser-light darkness? The whole place took on a sinister cast as every third person peered at their surroundings through inhuman eyes.
Sean searched through the swarms of undulating people, most half-naked and grinding on each other. He fended off wandering hands and invitations to dance, sneaking through the crowds with agile steps despite the alcohol blurring his vision and dialing down his grace.
Before he could find her, Cole caught him somewhere in the back where the music wasn’t quite so brain-jarring. Circle booths andsmall tables were packed with scantily-clad women and rich men, many viewing the world through alien eyes.
Cole handed him a glass of water. “Drink this, and I’ll give you this.” He held up a bottle of beer.
Playing it off with a laugh, Sean took the water, downing half of it while searching for Pink Fedora.
“So how are you feeling now?” Cole asked, eyeing the groups around them with mild distaste.
He wasn’t much for crowds, and Sean had to agree. Every sense was bombarded with too much noise, too much light, too much jostling.
“The same, but drunk.” Sean toasted Cole with his water.
“I’ll probably be deaf by the end of the night.”
By the lack of slurred words, Sean was fairly certain his cousin wasn’t as hammered as him, and he definitely wasn’t tripping on the…demons?…in their midst. Maybe he couldn’t see them.
Am I going insane?
Sean downed the rest of the water and set the bottle on a nearby table, then motioned his head toward the back hallway, where people filtered in and out of the bathroom.
Cole nodded. “I’ll wait here.”
In the restroom, Sean ignored the others going about their business and braced his hands on the granite counter, staring at the blank spaces between his fingers.
When he looked up, instead of his own reflection, Sean’s gaze landed on the man standing behind him. In the mirror, blacklight eyes locked on Sean’s blue ones. The guy was motionless, thickly tattooed, and dressed in an acid-washed denim jacket with a mesh tank top beneath. His expression was frozen in that same horrified recognition as the desk clerk’s.
