Page 32 of Forging Darkness

I really am going to be sick.

Moving quickly, I jab an elbow back and into the soft middle of the fool behind me. What I really want to do is introduce his face to the sticky floor, but that sounds like a lot of hassle.

The move has the desired effect, and his arms slide off me. I don’t wait to see how he fared before shoving my way through dancers. I’m past caring if I’m rude. I just need to get out of this mess. But somehow, I find myself deeper in the sea of writhing bodies.

The EDM music pumping through the speakers mellows and the lights dim to match the mood. The softer beat would normally be welcome, but with only the spinning spotlights from above to illuminate the room, I have an even harder time seeing. When I strain to engage my enhanced sight, the flickering beams saturate my vision and then dump me in total darkness once again.

The throbbing pain in my head is like a spike hammering into my temple. Squeezing my eyes shut, I slap my hands over my ears and concentrate on sucking air in and out through my mouth.

The low thumping of the music still vibrates my body, and my skin heats uncomfortably. Lances of fiery pain shoot down either side of my spine, and I hiss at the sensation.

Shrugging my jacket off, I let it fall to the ground. Only a whisper of concern for Nova’s garment brushes my mind before it’s swept away by a deluge of sensory overload.

The sizzling pain on my back intensifies, and it’s only then I start to process what is happening.

My wings are about to emerge. In front of humans. In the middle of a crowded club dance floor.

This is so bad.

Panic sets in.

Lights burst in my vision, but I have no idea if they are real or spectrum lights. I slam my eyes closed, but a pinwheel of colors still spin behind my lids.

I can’t get enough air. What I do take in burns my lungs. I start gasping.

It’s only a matter of time before my wings appear, most likely slicing and dicing anyone within a ten-foot radius, or I phase into the spectrum world. Either one of those actions is going to be a dead giveaway to any Forsaken in this club.

I tell myself to calm down, but it’s not working. A bead of sweat rides a trail down my hairline.

A hand presses against my upper back right between my shoulder blades, and rather than freaking me out, a wash of coolness spreads from the contact. I exhale a relieved breath and crack my lids, hoping my lashes will block some of the beams of light.

A body glides in front of me and the pressure of the hand on my back skims forward to cup my shoulder. All I can see is a wide chest covered in a black t-shirt, so I force my gaze up.

Steel’s eyes sweep my stricken face, and then he tugs me forward.

Chapter Eleven

Igo willingly into Steel’s arms, burying my face in his chest as his hands caress my exposed back. My flesh cools under his touch, which makes zero sense, but I’m not about to complain. Somehow, he is the ice to my fire, able to temper the uncontrollable blaze inside. I don’t understand it, but at times like this, I’m thankful for whatever magic is at work.

I drag in a lungful of Steel-laced air, and my heartbeat’s frantic cadence reduces to only a slightly elevated rhythm.

Scooping up my hair, he places it over one shoulder and bends forward. With our faces pressed cheek to cheek, his lips brush over the shell of my ear when he speaks.

“I should have known you three wouldn’t stay put. Let’s get some fresh air.” Talking directly into my ear is the only way I can hear him, and even then, he’s practically yelling. Still, my body doesn’t always respond to logical thought, and I can’t help the shiver of awareness that zings from head to toes.

I nod, and my lips accidentally brush against his jaw.

We’re still for a moment before he shifts, slipping his hand in mine and twining our fingers together. His grip is blessedly more secure than the one I had on Ash earlier.

The crowd parts for Steel like the Red Sea as he leads me off the dance floor. As if they sense his aura on a subconscious level, people simply know not to mess with him. If only I’d had that same effect growing up. Sure, my angel blood caused most humans to distrust and dislike me, but that didn’t mean they always kept their distance.

I stabilize my focus on the back of Steel’s head as we slide through the crowd of dancers. I should be scanning for Forsaken, but my stomach still isn’t happy with me. Concentrating on one point seems to help it settle.

The colored club lights bounce off strands of Steel’s black hair, reminding me of an oil slick, beautiful and hypnotizing. I don’t notice we’ve left the crush of the throng until Steel tugs me down a shadowed hallway.

I engage my Neph sight because the flashing lights don’t penetrate the narrow space. We’re embraced by the darkness, and I let out a sigh of relief. It has a calming effect on me that, doubled with Steel’s cool touch, allows me to feel in control of my body once again.

There’s a metal door at the end of the hallway that Steel doesn’t hesitate to push through, dragging me with him. I step over the threshold and out into the night air.

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