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possessed and our lustful union had released demons within me.
Once it was over and I regained control of my voice and brain, I grabbed my
clothes and ran naked from the room. People stared, but I didn’t care. Once in
the safety of the stairwell, I sobbed loudly as I struggled to dress. He was
one of them, and he had played me for a complete fool.
    Lake Corin. Nephew of Michael. He hadn’t
wanted to wait until he was of age for the ritual. He was ambitious and hungry
for power—so he went out on his own and seduced the first stupid, lonely scryer
that he met.
    Me.
    Penzance broke me out of my miserable
reverie by banging on the door and yelling that her culinary attempt was ready.
I sighed and stood in the bathwater, almost wishing that I would slip and hit
my head on the hard surface of the bathtub and knock myself out. It seemed like
the only way to get rid of this depressive feeling that was hanging over me.
    It lasted until the rest of the week.
Nightmares of a dead Anne and seductive Lake plagued me, almost to the point
where I wanted to call Danilo and beg for some of his stash of moiraine. But
I didn’t. The last thing that I needed was another Corin controlling me,
especially the cold-hearted Dorothea. So instead I drank, much to Penzance’s
delight.  She was under the impression that I was ready to become a party
animal like her. For our Friday night plans, she dressed me up. I had already
drunk several vodka and cranberry concoctions that left me light-headed and
numb.
    She treated me like I was a doll as she
twisted my limbs into a tank top that plunged deep to reveal my cleavage while
cropping just below my naval to reveal my taut abdomen. “You should get this
pierced. It would look so sexy,” she told me as she self-consciously touched
her own stomach that had thickened lately with her fast food diet and lack of
exercise.
    I said nothing as she stared at my flat
stomach with envy, but then she seemed to shake herself out of it and reached
for the skirt that she wanted me to wear. It was a shiny fabric that was
designed to look like leather, but wasn’t. It was fake, just like I was, wearing
these sexy, skimpy clothes as if I were trying to be someone else; as if I were
trying to live in a world where I were normal and my only thoughts should be about
trying to find a decent guy to hook up with.
    “It’s too short,” I said as she pulled
it up so it sat low on my hips.
    She looked up at me from where she
kneeled below my standing position. “It’s perfect. You need to show off more
skin. You’re too pretty to be wasted and hidden away.” She took my calf in her
hand and forced my leg up to slide my foot into a high heeled gold sandal.
    When she had finished, I studied myself
in a full-length mirror. My hair had been curled and my make-up heavier than
normal. My first thought was of a prostitute, and I wondered just briefly about
Penzance’s motives. But then I remembered that this was how she and her friends
all dressed. I would fit in.
    Maybe.
    I had another drink and stopped looking
in the mirror.
    One of Penzance’s friends drove us. We
piled into the car, and one of the girls whom I was pressed against wore a
watch. In the shiny, flat surface of that innocent little object, I saw her
early death. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe and count silently
until the car stopped and I didn’t have to touch her anymore. There was a line
at the club, but the girl who would die early knew the bouncers, and we
sauntered past the lesser people who had to wait, smug smiles on everyone’s
faces.
    The darkness of the club was interrupted
by flashes of light that made me blink and squint. A thumping began in my head,
and it was nothing to do with the music.
    “I’ll get us drinks!” Penzance screamed
at me. That was a good idea, drinking was good, drinking made you forget and
hopefully unconscious.
    The drinks she brought back to the table
were pink, complete with straws and she told me the