War of Hearts (True Immortality) - S Young Page 0,32

an art nouveau building designed for a former president. It was now a shopping mall of sorts, and housed a cinema, shops, restaurants, bars, and cafés. And she knew from her wanderings inside it seemed to be particularly famous for its music bar. It was the one place she hadn’t asked if they were looking for a bartender.

Her eyes drifted over the people walking in, some dressed to the nines, but most casual in jeans and shirts. A lot of English language tourists passed her by, which meant the Lucerna Music Bar was more than likely keen on English language bartenders.

What the hell, Thea thought, ignoring her grumbling belly. She might as well check it out.

Following people as they followed the music, Thea’s boots echoed across the checkered floor, the sound muffled by the bass in the distance. She passed a statue suspended from the ceiling of a guy riding an upside-down, dead horse. Every time she’d seen it, she’d wondered at its significance and so eventually looked it up. It was supposed to be a satirical version of the statue of King Wenceslas on Wenceslas Square.

Continuing down the hall, the bass led everyone to the left.

At the coat check, Thea risked her worldly belongings and checked her backpack. She took off her shirt and stuffed it into her bag, leaving her dressed in a pair of the new, dark blue jeans she’d bought and a dark green T-shirt. The shirt had a V-neck and showed off her generous cleavage. As wrong and sexist as it was, she found she always got further on the job hunt if she showed a little skin.

Fuck my life, she griped to herself, wondering when it would change. Thea pulled her long hair into a ponytail and handed her bag over at coat check, pocketing her ticket.

She supposed she could use her gifts to live in the lap of luxury and never have to worry about being sexually objectified again, but it would mean hurting people more than she already had.

And Thea was pretty sure she’d filled her quota on that.

Simple Minds’ “Don’t You Forget About Me” filtered out from the music hall and she overheard two English girls saying it was eighties night. Great.

Thea raised an eyebrow as she walked into the dark, smoky room and turned around, looking up. Above was a galleria where more people congregated. The dancing crowd surrounded the stage as the band played a cover. It was smaller than she’d expected. And claustrophobic. Thea stealthily made her way through the crowd, heading toward to the bar when out of nowhere, someone grabbed her wrist.

“What the—” Thea huffed as a young woman hauled her close in the swarming, hot darkness. The stage lights suspended on the ceiling flickered over the girl’s stunning elfin face.

Round, penetrating eyes stared intensely into Thea’s and the air filled with static. The hair on Thea’s neck and arms rose, and she froze in unexpected stillness.

“You don’t fear him because there’s nothing to fear,” the woman shouted in accented English over the music, her expression earnest and almost … frantic.

Goosebumps pricked Thea’s skin. “Excuse me?”

The woman’s hold on her tightened. And then to Thea’s utter disbelief, she heard the woman’s voice in her head. In. Her. Head.

Her rich Irish brogue filled Thea’s mind as they stared wordlessly at each other. He’s important. His future affects your future. He’s important, Thea.

Shocked to her core, Thea pulled against the young woman’s grip, but she was strong.

Too strong.

Foreboding and incredulity ran cold through her. “Who the hell are you? How do you know me? How are you doing this?”

Concern brightened the woman’s eyes. Her voice filled Thea’s head again. You should leave. Night children run this place and they’re waiting for you.

Suddenly a tall, dark-haired man jerked the woman away from Thea. He seemed to berate the girl in a language she couldn’t pinpoint. Irish, maybe?

What the hell?

Thea’s heart pounded hard in her chest as the woman peered past the man. A connection unlike anything she’d ever felt before soared through Thea. What was this woman? Who was she?

Was this a trick and Ashforth had found her?

But then how did the woman speak into her mind like that? What kind of supernatural could do that?

Thea bulldozed the man out of the way and grabbed the young woman’s arm. “Who the hell are you? How do you know me?”

She pressed a reassuring hand to Thea’s face and a sense of calm flooded her. “I’m not your enemy.” Her voice