The moment Elijah stepped inside the club, a storm of auras slammed into him.
Some reeked of grief, some of greed, and some carried such a nauseating stench he never wanted to approach their source.
Bass thumped through the floor, rattling up into his bones.
The music was so loud that he wondered if anyone had gone deaf from it.
Neon lights pulsed in sync with the beat, casting a shifting kaleidoscope across sweat-slick skin.
Many had cast their eyes on them, but they remained busy with whatever they were doing.
On one side was the dance floor where a mass of half-naked bodies swayed and ground against each other in hypnotic rhythm. The air was filled with perfume, alcohol, and sweat, and yet no one seemed to mind as their heads rolled with the music's pull.
Thankfully, Arvy didn't push him toward them. Instead, she dragged him toward the open counter where a rugged bartender was serving drinks.
