Chapter 8
Zayne
Darren unlatches the rope to the staircase and I nod quietly at him as he stands guard so that no patrons try to sneak into my office.
As I make my way onto the balcony, I take a moment to appreciate the success of the club.
All the hard work is paying off. Looking over at the bar, I see Vix entertaining a few men with her talent of making multiple drinks at one time.
I can’t help but chuckle. She’s got them eating out of her hand.
Knox was right, she fits right in. Turning, I grab my keys out of my pocket, I hesitate as my equilibrium falters and I’m forced to grip the doorframe.
That familiar sensation that had washed over me days ago in the elevator, and then in the flea market, hits me again, drawing me to one conclusion.
She’s here.
After opening the door, I throw my jacket on the couch in the corner, swiftly moving around my desk to check the camera feed.
The moment she crossed the threshold of Frequency, the shift in the air was unmistakable.
Confirmation that there’s something about her that makes her unique.
I hadn’t anticipated how strong her force was.
That pull to her is so deep within me, we’re like two magnets meant to combine as one.
Looking at the camera feed, I can’t take my eyes off of her. I can’t help but watch her moving through the club with Knox. An overwhelming urge to kick the head of my security’s ass for touching her overtakes me.
Jesus, where the fuck did that come from?
Knox takes her to the elevator and to the floor just below me. As she makes her way to the bar, she hugs Knox and stares at Vix, who gives her a quick hug over the bar.
So, she knows Knox and Vix—interesting.
Seeing her in the camera feed isn’t enough for me, though.
The draw has taken me over even more strongly since she’d stepped off the elevator.
Keeping my composure, I stand up and walk out the door until I’m standing on the part of the balcony that isn’t illuminated.
Taking in the scene below me, I see that she has just slipped off her stool and is making her way to the dance floor.
Who the fuck is she with, though? The overwhelming urge to pull her from his grasp consumes me, the longer she dances with him, the more I white-knuckle the steel bar of the balcony.
Thoughts of needing to protect her ripple through me. I need to breathe in her intoxicating scent, so I never forget it. I need to feel her eyes on me and only me. No one else should be fucking touching her.
I’m forced to adjust myself in my jeans. My mind screams at me, and I try to control my breathing by closing my eyes, but all I see is her holding on to the fence and swaying to the music.
I envision myself behind her, my lips brushing against her neck, my hands on her hips curling my fingertips into her soft skin. God, I crave her.
The beats of the percussion, the pounding of the synth, and the haunting distortion of guitar riffs are too much, and just like that I lose the grasp of the reality of this world—that strong push past the fabric of the frequency, into the realm I’m all too familiar with.
Aetheriem.
Instantly, the smell of decay and fallen ash surround me, and the blood red moon hangs low and large, illuminating the scene before me. Just as I take in my surroundings, I’m hit with utter confusion.
She’s here.
Myssa is standing in front of me, looking into a building in fucking Aetheriem, but how? She’s not supposed to be here. Unless…
It’s been so long since we’ve crossed paths with another one like Knox and myself.
But what has taken me back is how I got here.
It wasn’t me. One minute I’m in my fantasy thinking about her, and the next I’m here.
Before she notices me, I close my eyes and pull myself back through the darkness to where my body stands on the balcony.
The fatigue of the shift from one realm to another sends small tremors through my body.
I steady myself as I watch her sway. It’s more methodical now.
I can see the change. Those stunning emerald eyes now glimmer silver, the only sign in this reality that she’s still in Aetheriem.
Suddenly, her eyes close, and she falls to her knees. As I’m about to start running down the stairs at her, I see her boy toy has seen the same thing, and he picks up the pace to get to her. I back up out of view and walk into the office, trying to figure this all out.
She’s proved my suspicions to be correct, and the realization of what she is forces a flutter of hope in my chest.
She’s an original.
One of us.
Question is, does she even know what she is?
So many questions, and the only common denominator is Knox.
After grabbing my earpiece, I put it in and call Knox to come up to my office.
A few minutes later, I hear a knock at the door.
“Hey, boss, what’s up?” He peeks in first before coming all the way in.
I wave him in, and he takes a seat in the chair in front of my desk.
“Knox, that girl you were with earlier.”
“Who, Myssa?”
“Yeah, is she a friend of yours?”
“Yeah.” He nods, furrowing his brow.
Looking at the posters on the walls and avoiding Knox’s obvious confusion, I try to come up with the right words to ask such a monumental question. Unable to find a way to sugarcoat my words, I choose blunt honesty instead.
“Does she know who she is?”
Knox looks at me hard, taking a second to realize what I’m asking.
“She’s an original, isn’t she?” he asks, smiling.
“Yes, Knox, she's one of us.”
He jumps up, pointing a finger at me. “I fucking knew it.”
He paces back and forth across the room “There was something about her I couldn’t quite put my finger on and when she came in here. I felt the change in the frequency.”
Knox curls his hands on the top of the chair “Now what?”
“We wait for her to come to us,”