narrow, concrete staircase into a windowless basement

mmed into Aida's chest. The air inside the private underground club was th

ed her down a dark hallway. He pushed her into a dimly lit VIP room at the ver

ed her small purse to her chest like a shield, her knees pressed tightl

the corner. He turned his back to her, picking up a

hand into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, cha

y, fizzing for a split second before vanishing compl

ked back to the sofa and held

r head. "I am here to discuss the lice

o hard the liquid sloshed over the rim. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone

dollars would be useless if the city shut them down. She reach

one long gulp. The alcohol burned a fiery trail dow

ack against the leather, and started rambling about market

pit of Aida's stomach. It wasn't the burn of alcohol; it was a hea

blur. She looked at Grayson, and his face seemed to s

filled with wet sand. A terrifying, paralyzing

een dr

r limbs violently ripped open a locked door in her mind. Fragments of a nightmare from six years a

obbled violently, and she swayed, her

to grab her waist. "

ound of panic and shoved

thick and numb. She stumbled away from him, her legs dragging, an

her hand against the lock, twisting it until it clicked. She sli

they were made of lead. The dark edges of unconsciousness

rror above the sink. Her reflection was pale, terrified, and fa

dispenser sitting on the marble counter. With both hands, she swung it a

crash, large, jagged shards rain

so violently she could barely control her fingers.

ottom lip, and dragged the sharp edge of the glass

t, soaking into the fabric of her skirt, r

olt of lightning. It sliced straight through the chemical fog in her b

ts against the wooden door, shouting vile, filthy th