Page 4 of Shattered Diamonds

I met the devil.

One week ago, I met the devil. He was camouflaged in a three-piece, all black suit. But I saw it—the danger. I sensed it. It stood directly in front of me with wicked potency. It was embodied in his leer. His cutting tongue reprimanded me with a lashing at my mistake of calling him by his first name. It was as if he reached out and whipped me, blazing my skin with a singeing fire.

And I am so intrigued.

I cannot for the life of me stop thinking about him and his probing glare.

“You ready?” The vehicle comes to a stop.

“Ciarán?” I glance around. “Why are you taking me here? What is this place?”

“You need to experience life, cuz. Your brother has kept you hidden for too long. You need to branch out, open your eyes to new things before your life really begins.”

“This kind of life? This seems dangerous with all these people. Cillian has always told me places like this are sins within the walls. No place for a good girl like me.”

“That’s because he was protecting you. You’re twenty-one now, cuz. It’s my job to show you the life you should have experienced back at home.”

“I don’t know about this, Ciarán. Cousin or not, Cillian will murder you if he finds out.” I wrap my arm around his when he holds it out.

“Aye,” he agrees. “You let me worry about him. Come on, innocent girl. It will be fine. I promise.” He pats my arm as he leads me into a building with thunderous music.

The atmosphere is raging with energy. Fire shoots, colorful smoke plumes, billowing through the space as it floats over moving bodies. It’s mysterious, sexy, and so very tempting to my unnerved soul.

From the corner of my eye, I see a flicker of flames. I twist to my right and watch the neon blue lit bar morphing into a deep blood red. The subtle hum of excited patrons turns to overwhelming chants of praise. My stomach twists in knots when yellow sparks of a freshly ignited flame roars to life. A trail of fire races in a line over the length of the bar top, turning blue as it blazes to its highest peak.

I’m in awe.

Stuck in my spot.

And the music blaring with a thunderous heartbeat has my insides thumping with anxiety fed adrenaline.

The bartender throws a bottle in the air, then catches it with a flagrant gust while the other bottle is spinning on the skin of the opposite palm. The flames on the bar extinguish. A woman dramatically throws her head back and lays her upper body over the edge of the bar top. The bartender halts the movement of the two bottles and begins pouring the liquid into the woman’s open mouth.

The crowd cheers, chanting for more.

Fisted hands bang against the bar, encouraging her on.

The bartender drops something small into her mouth then aggressively throws his hand over her parted lips and with vigorous strength, he starts shaking her head as if to mix up the liquid inside the hollow of her cheeks.

I am awe struck, paralyzed in the moment.

My virgin eyes are wide, taking it all in.

The bartender releases the woman’s face. She throws her hands in the air and jumps up onto the bar. Her dress is so short I can see the red patch covering her most intimate parts. I’m embarrassed for her but thrilled at all the excitement. She celebrates along with every other patron witnessing this brutal show of taking a shot.

The song still beats with intensity.

“Breathe, Haven.”

“It’s the song. I think. Maybe it’s from watching the show. I don’t know.” My free hand flies to my chest. “But my heart is pounding,” I yell over the music.

“The song is calledHorizon. It’s by ARTBAT.”

“I’ve never heard it before.” I push up against him, getting closer as he moves us through the people, my voice starting to strain from yelling. “Where are we going?”

“To get you a drink to loosen you up.”

“I’m not doing that!” I stop in my tracks, watching my cousin through the widest eyes. “She’s a feckin eejit.” My Irish roots spurt with my astonishment.

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