The Strange Path Read Online Free PDF Page B

extended out to it. She wondered if they were paid workers for the club, or exhibitionist patrons allowed its use. Looking down, she saw the large dance floor packed with revelers moving to the hypnotic music. Squares of colored floor tiles pulsed in time with the music. Another cage hung against the opposite wall, this one a metal and Plexiglas contraption that housed the club’s DJ. 
    Reaching the main floor, Fiona ushered them past a long bar, up some steps and toward the back corner. Whiskey squeezed past people to keep up. She seriously doubted they’d find anywhere to sit at this time of night. Malice was too popular for a table to go empty for any length of time, especially on a Friday night. She wondered if Fiona would resort to bullying her way into taking one over.
    Cora was already enjoying herself. She clutched Whiskey’s arm, but moved in time with the music as they walked. She smiled at Whiskey, leaning forward to give her a lingering kiss on the cheek. Whiskey raised an eyebrow, eyes darting around to see if anyone took notice or offense. No one responded, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Another fight after the one last night would wipe her out. She didn’t want to ruin a good thing. Now that she’d been allowed inside Malice without showing identification, maybe she could sneak back in the future, preferably without her current companions.
    Fiona pushed aside a curtain made of metal chain, and waved them past. “Sit down, children.”
    Whiskey stepped into a semiprivate area. She recognized Manuel and Bronwyn from the night before, lounging together on the booth seat of a single large metal table. Daniel also sat here, raising a beer in welcome. No other tables graced the room, giving the pack a secure, private base from which to party. Cora helped Whiskey into a chair across from the others, immediately taking residence on her lap.
    The chain rattled back into place, and Fiona drifted behind Whiskey’s chair, hardly pausing as she trailed her fingernails up Whiskey’s recent tattoo. The tender skin stung. Before Whiskey registered the annoyance, Cora squirmed in her lap, drawing her attention to more pleasing things.
    “Where’s Alphonse and Zebediah?” Fiona sat at the head of the table. A waitress appeared out of nowhere with a tray full of drinks.
    “Out on the floor,” Manuel drawled. “They’ve found a couple of kizarusi for the night.”
    The waitress set two shot glasses and a bottle of Chivas Regal Royal in front of Whiskey. Cora wriggled in a pleasing manner, distracting Whiskey further. Her hands caressed and supported Cora’s waist as the woman leaned forward to reach the bottle. Whiskey focused on her hands splayed out upon Cora’s back. The conversation continued as she studied them. Clean healthy skin covered her knuckles where bruises and abrasions had been just this afternoon. What did Daniel inject me with?
    “ Kizarusi or cows?” Fiona accepted a glass of red wine.
    Whiskey’s left hand strayed to her new tattoo. The antibiotic cream had soaked into her flesh, leaving the skin smooth. She felt the slight raised scabbing along the ink. She’d never had a tattoo before, but she’d heard how much it hurt, had seen how long it took to heal with other street kids fortunate to have friends in the business. This looked days old, not an hour. She drew her hand from her forearm to her belly, pressing on the bruises, finding little discomfort.
    Bronwyn and Manuel gave each other a knowing glance. “Cows.”  Bronwyn smirked.
    “What are kizarusi? ”
    Fiona smiled at Whiskey. “A babe in the woods,” she said to the others, indicating Whiskey. Bronwyn chuckled, and Daniel’s lips quirked in amusement. Manuel showed no emotion at all.
    Whiskey’s eyes narrowed at the vague insult. On a hunch, she lowered her chin. “That doesn’t answer the question.” Cora handed her a shot glass of alcohol. Whiskey took it without drinking.
    “How to explain kizarusi ?” Fiona