His Unidentified & Untouchable Mate

Stalker (2)

Zahraa POV

Someone was definitely following us.

There was no parking at the venue, so we had to pay for a few hours’ of parking in a separate lot four blocks from the club. A car pulled in at the same time, and no one got out – until we were already at the mouth of the parking lot, and a figure in a black coat, with a black hat and dark sunglasses (at night??) got out.

When I looked his direction, he ducked behind a car.

“Ingrid,” I nudged her while Alanis and Tanis bickered ahead of us. “Someone is definitely following us.”

Ingrid turned around – and of course she didn’t see anything. The downtown section of LA was bustling at night. The streets were thick with people walking in every which direction. If we got too far from Alanis and Tanis, they would vanish for a few minutes.

Likewise, the man following me had vanished in the crowd.

Ingrid threw her arm around my shoulders. “Zahraa, don’t forget who you’re with. If someone is back there, they’re not prepared to fight all four of us together.”

I swallowed. If it was anyone from the gang that had captured me before, they certainly had experience in wrangling supernaturals.

“Sure,” I said, instead.

“So,” Tanis turned back to us, ignoring whatever mean thing had just came out of Alanis’s mouth. “Do you think you’re going to visit the Oracle?”

“Is it that easy to see him?” I asked, “Just… show up and ask?”

Tanis shrugged, “I dunno. All I know is that he’s there, and I’ve seen people come in and out of that basement a lot.”

“Step one is asking around anyway,” Alanis said, hanging back so she was walking in earshot. “You don’t necessarily have to go in tonight.”

“That’s true,” Ingrid agreed emphatically. “So let’s just go in and have some fun.”

True to an LA nightclub, there was a long line of patrons. That didn’t seem to bother Tanis one bit. She walked past the line to the bouncer and put on an award-winning smile. “Hey Bruce. Brought some girlies with me tonight.”

Bruce was built like a brick wall, with a bald head covered in colorful floral tattoos. He appraised us with guarded eyes, then nodded. “Have a good night, Tanis.”

“Wow,” Alanis was already sulking as soon as we got past him. “On a first-name basis with the bouncer, are we?”

“Oh, my gods Alanis, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this place!” Tanis threw her hands in the air. “It’s just a club my friend told me about. I didn’t even think it would be your scene.”

“Why don’t we get a drink?” Ingrid suggested, pushing me away from the ongoing lover’s spat.

I took some comfort knowing that with that long line, I had time until my stalker caught up with me. “Sure,” I knew one thing – now that I was here, it would be impossible not to check in on the Oracle. “After that, maybe we can ask about the Oracle.”

Beside me, a brown-skinned man with a pompadour turned around. A chill ran up my spine when he met my eye – his eyes were a stark, electric blue color. He looked me up and down slowly, as if trying to sort something out in his mind. “You’re seeking the Oracle?” he asked, with a thick Arabic accent.

I nodded. Not often did I find myself so thoroughly intimidated by a man that my words failed me, but for some reason, I was feeling that now.

“Let me buy you a drink, and we will talk.” There was no time to tell him no thanks. He took my hand in his and guided me to the bar. Ingrid trailed behind us quickly, dodging dancers and drinkers alike.

At the bar, he released my hand. When I stepped forward, he put his hand on the back of the chair to my right, trapping me as much as he was guarding me from anyone that might come too close.

Ingrid caught up and grabbed his arm. “Hey, buddy. You can’t just yank her off like that. She’s with m-” her words cut off mid-sentence, and his eyes flashed brighter – if that was possible. “I’ll see you later, Zahraa.”

She walked away, leaving me speechless. “Ah, so your name is Zahraa,” he touched a lock of my hair. “What a beautiful name.”

“Who are you?” I asked, when I finally found my voice again. "What did you do to my friend?"

“I am called Zain,” he replied, ignoring the second question. When the bartender nodded to us, indicating we were next, he looked down to me. “What would you like?”

I stared at him in awed silence. Behind me, Ingrid was simply dancing - enjoying her night as if we hadn't come together. Afraid that fighting back might incur violence, I muttered,“Shirley Temple.”

He chuckled. “Such a cute order. You don’t drink?” he asked. He ordered my drink as well as an old fashioned.

As our drinks were mixed in front of us, I decided telling him I was underage was not the way to go. “Don’t like the taste – and I don’t like losing my faculties.”

“Wise.” When the drinks were placed in front of us, he took mine and handed it to me, then lowered his arm so it was wrapped around my waist. “Put it on my tab.”

I was about to say something – anything. I didn’t want him to pay for me. I was uncomfortable with the contact. I was worried about where he was taking me.

But he continued before I found my voice. “I am something of a consultant. One of my clients happens to be the Oracle. I could get you an audience without costing you an arm and a leg – but I have some questions first.”

He was guiding me across the dance floor, to a staircase illuminated by bright neon lights. Above were two balconies – booths the public could claim, and above that, private booths. All were dimly lit and designed for privacy.

I didn’t want to go there with him.

I dug in my heels, and that seemed to surprise him – but he didn’t release me, his grip transferring from my waist back to my hand. “What kind of questions?” Not a question – a demand.

His eyes flashed dangerously – it was clear this was not a man used to being defied.

Instinctively, my body shied away from him further – my glove slipped off into his hand. “You and I are the same, no?” he asked, cupping my hand in his and pressing the glove into my palm.

I stared at the contact.

His skin was on mine – yet nothing. No pain.

My eyes roamed back to his, which were so filled with confidence. “What clan are you from, Zahraa?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn’t know how. Would I sound stupid if I admitted I didn’t know what he was talking about?

I didn’t need to. Understanding washed over his features, and he released my hand altogether. “You don’t know.”

Mouth dry, I could only nod.

He reached for me again. “I can tell you everything you want to know.”

Someone grabbed his arm before it touched me again. “The lady looks like she doesn’t want to go with you.”