Page 26 of Pack Larsen

Just as I open my mouth to ask if he can see her, the lights dim and the music fades away until it stops entirely, plunging the club into a charged silence. Through the darkness, I see several people stand from their seats, suddenly alert and rushing toward a podium where a DJ deck is stationed with their hands on their phones and their fingers furiously tapping away.

“The hell?” Rage mutters, sitting up in his seat at the same time the lights go out entirely and several pink and white beams of light start roaming all through the room. Not a second later, a steady beat starts playing through the speakers, gradually growing louder and louder until it fills the entire room, mingling with the uproar of hoots and hollers of the patrons now crowding around the platform where the DJ deck is.

Sure enough, just as the song playing starts growing in speed, everyone growing hyped with the sudden change of atmosphere, a bright spotlight falls onto the girl wearing a half-faced neon rabbit mask suited with ears and whiskers, her dark-lined eyes visible through the holes and darker lips tugged up into a smirk. Silver’s sequined shirt is highlighted by the strong beam, revealing a cheeky glimpse of cleavage that has me salivating like a pervert, along with the killer legs that are encased in sexy tights and shorts that barely cover the sweet cover of her ass.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, understanding now why Rage was adamant that we follow her. I know she doesn’t like us right now, and is, apparently, under the impression that we hate her, but I would not have hesitated in slinging her over my shoulder and locking her away so no one else got to see the omega looking like a sexy, little pastel pixie if it were me that she collided into at the house.

Instead, she stands in all her glory, a tattered denim jacket barely holding onto her arms as it hangs loosely around her biceps, leaving her shoulders bare. She’s a literal fantasy come to life, her pale-blonde hair styled in pigtails with ropes of pink strands that now overpower the blue and purple.

Just as the music grows louder, one of Silver’s hands controlling dials and knobs on the deck board, she throws her free hand into the air and shouts, “Let’s get this party started!”

The roar of the small crowd fills the room in answer, and I am utterly captivated as Silver begins to jump to the beat, arm still in the air as she plays the crowd like she was born to do just that.

It’s just as the song playing through the speaker picks up the pace, building up rapidly as it gears toward what I hope is going to be a sick drop, Silver’s rabbit head looks around before it stops suddenly when she sees my brother and me sitting in a booth that just so happens to be in direct line of sight to where she stands.

With her mic still turned on, her head drops back, the baby pink mask she wears pointing up at the sky as she groans, “Fuck.”

And then the beat drops and everyone goes wild.

Chapter 10

Silver

I’m all too conscious of the twins all through my shift, my skin prickling all night with awareness. I can feel their eyes on me as though it were a physical touch, watching my every move while I attempt to relax and provide a sound show that would make the ears of my peers pregnant.

By the time the set ends and I’m covered in a light sheen of sweat, my back pockets stuffed with a shit load of tips that will absolutely be buying pizza tonight, and an ache in my feet from standing, jumping, and dancing for hours, I’m ready to eat and crash so bad that I can’t even muster the energy to be annoyed with the twins for stalking me.

Because there’s no doubt that’s what happened here. I wonder who told them where I worked, because I’m sure I didn’t tell a soul other than Alek and… Juno. That bitch.

Retrieving my cell from my back pocket while I remove the mask, placing it in a small case and stashing it under Tanner’s desk in his office, I call Juno.

“It’s past midnight, Pixie. Tell me this is an emergency. Did you kill someone? Are we hiding a body? I think we have shovels and tarp,” Juno greets with a slur, quick to help out a sister in need despite clearly having just woken up.

My gooey feelings for my bestie will have to wait, because I have a bone to pick with her. Keeping my voice low, I hiss, “Who have you been blabbing to about me working at Raverz?”

“Oh, shit,” she blurts, confirming it was that little she-devil that dobbed me in it. She’s completely awake all of a sudden, rushing to say, “In my defense, I told Lowie and Leylan in confidence. I didn’t know Lowie was going to turn into a fucking love guru and start helping the Halsey Hellions.”

I frown, pausing my movements. “Helping who? What? Why?

“There’s also ‘how’ and ‘when,’ if you want to throw those in there, too,” Juno snickers, and she shushes a manly groaner from the other end of the phone. “You got me in trouble, you asshole. Shut up.”

“Put me on speaker,” I demand, narrowing my eyes at the wall I’m glaring at, wishing it was Lowie.

Juno sighs with a small snicker, but she does as I request. “Go ahead, Pixie. Tear into him.”

“What the—?” Lowie starts and finishes, because I’m interrupting him before he can get more than two words out.

“Oh, you’re so dead to me, Lowie Ledger. So dead, you hear me? You watch your back, my guy, because you’re on my shit list. I watch and listen to enough true crime that I could kill you and dispose of your body without ever being caught,” I rush out, only kind of joking. I do watch enough that I believe I’m fully equipped with the ability to commit and get away with murder. Who better than to test that theory on than the guy who stuck his nose in and revealed the only damned secret I have in the world to the first person he spoke to.

Lowie sounds all too amused when he says, “I’m sure you could, but let’s be real, you’re not gonna.”

“Don’t sound so sure,” I declare, rolling my eyes at his chuckle. He’s lucky my best friend loves him and bonded with him, otherwise I might actually consider committing my first murder.

“Look, just hear them out, okay? I’m not getting involved any more than I have, but they called me earlier and needed help patching things over with you. All I did was give them a leg up. Have you spoken to them yet?” Lowie wonders, sounding all too curious.

“No,” I answer, tucking my cell between my shoulder and cheek. “My set just finished, I’m sweating like a sinner at a confessional, and I’m trying to figure out why they’re here in the first place. I never pegged you for a meddler, Ledger.”

“I never used to be, Gage, but, apparently, people change,” he quips. “Anyway, we’re going back to sleep. I say this with love, but I was having a really good dream that was worth more of my time than your dramatic ass. Talk to them. Laters, Pixie Dust.”

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