For anyone who doesn’t know, YAFF MUSE is a blog ring where members of YA Fiction Fanatics take a common prompt and write. The word length varies, as does whether or not its a short or an excerpt. They’re all pretty fabulous, so make sure you check out the others when you get done here!!!Photo Credit: Clarita from Morguefile.com
The music thudded in Erik’s chest. He shouldn’t have come. But the dare was too good to pass up. Grey stood next to him, his eyes locked on the gyrating hips of a blonde who was wearing more makeup than clothing.
“Focus, man. You don’t have time for that.”
Grey sighed and turned away. “Shame. That could have been very entertaining.”
“Shut up. The longer we stay, the easier it is to find us.”
“You take all the fun out of it.”
Erik lifted a brow and Grey rolled his eyes. Pushing away from the bar, he shook his head and slid one hand into his pocket. Erik did the same, palming the tiny silver lozenge that would turn into a weapon if need be. He hoped it wouldn’t.
They pushed through the crowd to the back of the room. A large bouncer stood in front of a door marked “employees only.”
“You two are a little young to be here, aren’t you?”
Grey winked and smiled. “We’re totally twenty one. Honest.”
The bouncer snorted. “Whatever. I didn’t man the front, so it’s not my problem if you get caught.” When they didn’t turn around, his eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”
“In there.” Erik said, nodding to the doorway. “Please.”
The bouncer looked like he’d choked on something. “I don’t think so. Run home.”
Erik shook his head and stepped closer. “Can’t. Not until I talk to Daemon.”
“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” He stepped toward them, menace slipping across his features. “Now go home.”
Erik allowed himself to meet the bouncer’s eyes. To let a little of his own darkness shine through. The bouncer made a strange grunting noise, his eyes widening, but he didn’t back down. Irritation scratched at Erik’s throat, and he felt the wildness inside begin to awaken.
“Chill, Erik. The last thing we need is another blood bath.”
Grey stepped forward, and blew something from his palm into the bouncer’s face. The burly man blinked, stumbled back into the wall. With a groan, his eyes closed and he dropped into a heap on the floor.
Erik watched and felt a tiny pang of remorse that he’d been unable to take care of things his way. Immediately, he hated himself for it. This was not who he was. He could control it. His hands shook as he squeezed them into fists at his side.
Grey yanked open the employees only door and they slid into the narrow, dim hall. At the other end was a battered metal door. The low hum of voices could be heard over the muted noise from the club they’d left behind.
Erik took the lead, his hand wrapping around the door handle. Grey clapped a hand over his shoulder, and he paused, looking at his friend.
“You ready for this?”
A ghost of a smile flitted across Grey’s lips. “Way to inspire confidence.”
“Ready or not, we’re here. No more messing around.”
“No more Mr. Nice Guy?” Grey shook his head. “We’ve got to work on your lines, man.”
Erik resisted the urge to smile. It was not a time for joking. Though Grey never seemed to think any time was inappropriate for it. Erik sucked in a huge breath and released it slowly. “Now or never.”
Grey moved back a step to give him room to swing open the door. Inside, the room was decorated as a strange mix of library and swanky office. Three men sat around a fire, but it was the tall, lanky man in a well-tailored Armani suit that made his blood boil.
All three rose as Erik and Grey entered. The other two both reached for what he assumed were guns.
“No, gentlemen, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“But Mr. Hanover-“
A sharp glance from Archibald Hanover cut the thug off short. Erik could remember seeing those harsh glares before. He’d gotten more than his fair share.
“Archibald.” It was an insult to call the man by his first name. To both of them, because it implied to Erik that they were friends. They’d never been that.
“Ah, Erik. And I see you’ve got that other boy, Green? Gary?”
“Grey.” Erik spat.
“Yes. Well, it’s always good to bring back up, but I must admit, it seems a bit dense of your friend to agree.”
Erik bristled, but Grey just leaned against the door and grinned. “That’s what I hear.”
Archibald frowned at Grey’s lack of reaction, but focused back on Erik. “You aren’t enjoying your gift?”
“Gift? Gift? I’ve killed people because of this thing you’ve done to me.”
Archibald resumed his seat and waved a hand at his henchmen. They pushed past Grey and left, securing the door behind them. Once they were gone, he took a sip of something from the glass on the table. “What I did to you does not force you to kill. You know this.”
“I would not have killed without it.”
Archibald smiled, and ice tiptoed its way down his spine. “Are you certain? I cannot alter anything so much that I change its nature. Can I, Grey?”
Erik turned to find Grey’s face a stony mask. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. But you can manipulate anything to suit you.”
Archibald rose and moved until he was close enough to touch, staring into Erik’s eyes. In their dark color, he could see the lives he’d taken. A macabre parade that marched through his chest with knives. “Still, what does that say about what lies within you, Erik?”
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