sought to forget it all in the alcohol, drugs, dancing, and sex. Perhaps if I delved deeper into their thoughts, beneath the blanket of intoxication, I’d find they were on vacation here to escape their own terrible realities. Escapism was a part of human nature, after all, and the people here had apparently found what they needed.
I didn’t delve, though. Invading people’s private thoughts was one of the issues I still had with this ability. Luckily, those thoughts didn’t automatically blast in my mind, or I’d never be able to live with myself. As an introvert, I needed my head to be my own and couldn’t imagine a constant party going on inside it. That would have been so much worse than the situation I was in now, which was bad enough.
Skimming along the surfaces of tourists’ minds to listen for the smallest hint of Vanessa’s whereabouts, I concluded no one else was suffering a near anxiety attack like I was. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the loud music, the strobe lights, and the press of the crowd around them.
I accepted the drink from the beautiful man with the dark but glassed-over eyes, and threw it back, grimacing at the ouzo’s burn as it slid down my throat, wishing this would be the shot that would dull the senses. But, of course, it wouldn’t. I couldn’t get drunk. Unlike the norms, I couldn’t find my own escape.
“You okay?” Tristan silently asked me.
I clenched my jaw, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to give in, either. Don’t worry about me.
“As if I could stop. I always worry about you.”
I stared directly at him and all the girls surrounding him, particularly the one he smiled at even as he thought his concern toward me.
Well, don’t, I thought to him as I drew in a steadying breath. I can take care of myself.
“Are you sure?” he asked precisely when the guy in front of me asked me to dance. I nodded, although I truly just wanted to get out of here. “Alexis, don’t think—”
I never heard the rest of his sentence—what he didn’t want me to think. The handsome stranger thought I’d nodded to him and had me by the hand, stumbling over his own feet as he dragged me to the dance area. As soon as we stepped onto the sunken floor, his hands were on my hips, pulling me close to him. For a brief moment, I forgot about all the mind signatures, the twirling lights, and the pounding music, and could only think about how strange it was to be that close to a man other than Tristan.
But only for a brief moment. Before I could even do anything, a growl ripped through the music—or maybe just through my head—and Tristan suddenly stood between the guy and me, his back to me and his arms out protectively. The drunk guy swung without even looking, and Tristan caught his wrist in mid-air. With the pain of the grip, the guy finally looked up into Tristan’s face. His eyes grew wide, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Without so much as an apology to me, he carefully stepped away from the dance floor.
Tristan turned to me and wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me to him as he swayed to the music. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You can talk to girls all night, but I can’t dance once?”
His nostrils flared. “There’s a difference. His hands were all over you.”
“I had things under control.”
He leaned closer to me and growled in my ear. “I didn’t like it.”
I stepped back. I should have been warmed by his concern, but his eyes were alit with real anger and his tone acidic.
“I told you. I can take care of myself.” I added silently, He’s only a norm, after all.
Tristan cocked his head and considered me for a long moment, then jerked his hands off my hips.
“Of course you can,” he snapped before walking off.
I stared after him, clenching my jaw to keep it from falling open. Warrior Boy seemed to have lost his cool. Which wasn’t, well, cool, considering the circumstances.
Tristan!
I stomped off the dance floor and toward the front door of the club, expecting him to follow me, but he sauntered back to his place at the bar amidst all the girls who now looked at me like wild cats about to pounce. I almost gave in to the urge to lift my lip and snarl at them as Tristan had done to my Greek god, but I didn’t. Only because something else caught my attention as I reached the door. The mind signature I’d been searching for all night.
Tristan, come on. Game’s over. Found her. I looked over my shoulder to see him still leaning against the bar. Are you coming?
He shrugged without looking away from the blonde who’d moved in on him. “You can take care of yourself.”
Read Dark Power, Book 4 in the Soul Savers series, now.
Books by Kristie Cook
Soul Savers
A Demon’s Promise
An Angel’s Purpose
Dangerous Devotion
Dark Power
Sacred Wrath
Unholy Torment
Fractured Faith
Genesis: A Soul Savers Novella
Awakened Angel: A Soul Savers Novella
Prophecy of the Wolves: (A Soul Savers Tie-In Novella)
Wonder: A Soul Savers Collection of Holiday Short Stories & Recipes