She didn’t know what she had taken.
Hidden somewhere in the pocket of her jacket, she’d found a tab. All swirls and pretty colours. Zoey hadn’t stopped to think before putting it into her mouth and swallowing it back with some leftover whisky from her morning with Genevieve. It was habit, she supposed. Acting without actually thinking beforehand. Alas, it was a terrible habit for an addict to have. It meant that should she ever run out of the good stuff, she would move on to whatever else she could find — safe or dangerous. She’d lose herself to her toxic consumption, just like she had right now.
And out of the corner of her eye, she saw him.
Tall and familiar, his expression was wild. Crazed. Zoey only knew one person who could look like that without having questions asked.
“Liam…” She breathed, breaking through the writhing, sweating dancers around her. Bodies moved with and against each other. Hands everywhere. Minds lost in their own indescribable worlds. The wolf girl called out louder over the buzz of the music, shoving people out of the way as she followed him out of the dance club and into the streets. He was here in colour and all. It was a sight to behold.
It terrified her.
“Liam!” The man looked back over his shoulder and smirked, walking right through a couple that had been approaching her. Right through and up towards the bridge that was up ahead only twenty yards away. She had to catch up to him.