The Dark Divine(28)

“Danny Boy, you made it,” she said in an Eastern European–sounding accent. She turned her thick kohl-lined eyes on me and plumped her blood-red lips.

Daniel released my shoulder.

“Oh, look”—she took me in from head to toe—“you brought treats. I hope there’s enough to share.”

“Grace, this is Mishka. We knew each other a long time ago,” Daniel said about the female clad in a black leather mini and what I think is called a bustier.

“Not so long, Danny Boy.” She leaned her breasts up against him. “But you were more fun then.” She traced a long, red, talonlike fingernail down his cheek. “You must come with me now.” She pulled Daniel away from my side. “You have kept me waiting, and Mishka is not a patient woman.”

“Come on, Grace.” Daniel held his hand out to me. I was about to slip my fingers into his when Mishka scowled.

“No!” she said. “I do not perform for an audience. This one stays here.”

“I won’t leave her behind.”

Mishka leaned in even closer to Daniel, her gleaming teeth brushed his ear as she spoke. “You and I are the only real players here. Your girl will be fine without you for a few minutes. Mishka will not wait for you any longer, Danny Boy.”

She pulled on his arm, but he didn’t budge.

“Do you need a reminder of how I get when you disappoint me?” She narrowed her eyes and licked her lips.

“No … but Grace …,” he protested halfheartedly.

Mishka turned her glare on me. The irises of her eyes looked jet-black in the apartment’s murky light. She brushed my arm with her talons, and her teeth seemed awfully sharp as she smiled. “You do not mind if I borrow my Danny Boy for a few moments,” she said, but I could have sworn that her lips never moved—like I’d heard her voice inside my head.

“Um … no,” I said, suddenly not minding much of anything. Maybe it was just the sick sweet smoke engulfing the room, but as Mishka stared into my eyes, I couldn’t think, let alone care, about anything.

“That’s a good girl,” Mishka said. She looped her arm through Daniel’s and led him away from me.

Daniel glanced back and said, “Stay put. And don’t talk to anyone.”

At least that’s what I think he said. My brain felt too fuzzy and my tongue felt too heavy to say anything back. I stood there in bewilderment until I was almost knocked flat by someone. I blinked at her through my fog. All I could make out was a girl with green hair and more piercings than face. She stopped “dancing” and leaned in close, squinting her seemingly too-large eyes. She said something I didn’t understand, and I tried to ask her if we knew each other from somewhere. But what came out of my mouth didn’t even sound like words. She stumbled away, laughing hysterically to herself.

I retreated to the dark hallway that led to the bedrooms and took in a few breaths of slightly fresher air. I was about to knock on Daniel’s door when I heard Mishka laughing from behind it. My stomach churned, and as Zed’s noxious song drifted into another melody (this one eerie and pulsing, with Zed breathing heavily into the microphone), my hazy thoughts cleared and I realized that I had been abandoned. Any moment, or connection, or energy that Daniel and I had shared was gone.

“Well, ‘ello there, darling,” a guy said as he approached me from the crowd. “Didn’t expect to see you ‘ere again.” He smirked, and I realized he was one of the foulmouthed guys I’d met here before.

“Neither did I.” I pulled my wool coat closer around my chest. Any sexiness I had felt in my Sunday clothes suddenly felt overly na?ve.

“You look like you could use some fun.” His voice was as slippery as a serpent’s. He offered me a plastic cup filled with dark amber-colored booze—something fizzled ominously at the bottom. “I can show you a good time if you’re feeling neglected.”

I waved the cup away. “No, thanks, I was just leaving.”

“That’s what you think.” He slammed his arm out in front of me, blocking my escape. “This party’s just starting.” He tried to brush his cup-filled hand where it didn’t belong.

I dove under his arm and through the crowd to the door. The green-haired girl teetered in the open doorway. She slurred a nasty name at me as I pushed past her. I went down the stairs and out of the building. I listened carefully at the exit, and when I heard footsteps on the metal stairs, I bolted down Markham Street.

My luck must have turned because as I came to the end of the block, a bus headed in the direction of home pulled up to the curb. I bounded up the steps when the doors swung open and prayed I had enough money for the fare. The driver grumbled as I counted out my change, but I had enough, with thirty-five cents left to spare.

The bus was almost empty, except for a couple of grizzly men shouting at each other in a language that reminded me of Mishka’s accent, and a forty-something-year-old guy with bottle-thick glasses who cradled a baby doll in his arms and crooned to it in deep, fatherly tones. I took a seat in the back and hugged my knees to my chest. The bus lurched and jolted and smelled faintly of urine, but I felt safer there than I had in that apartment’s hallway.

I couldn’t believe that Daniel had abandoned me to those people. Couldn’t believe that I went with him into his apartment in the first place. What might have happened if it hadn’t been for that party? But mostly, I was ashamed that part of me had wanted something to happen.