Dark Angel (7 page)

I felt strong arms around me, looked into eyes shadowed by a dark beaked helmet, stumbled as the music faded and died.

‘Daniel.’ My partner formally introduced himself without loosening his hold.

‘Tania,’ I told him.

‘I know – I remember. How was your talk with the boss?’

The bird headdress, the black wings – I was talking to Zoran’s young sun god, stunned by his perfect features, limp in his grasp. ‘Interesting,’ I murmured. ‘Except I made a fool of myself by fainting at his feet.’

‘He has that effect,’ Daniel grinned. ‘And your girlfriend – is she doing OK?’

‘Which one?’

‘Aphrodite in the white robe.’

‘Grace. She’s more than OK, thanks.’ I looked for her but didn’t see her in the mass of bodies, only Holly near the stage, alone now and waiting impatiently for the next song.

It started low and slow but soon building and picking up tempo, driving a wave of people towards the stage where they danced mostly solo, limbs jerking and jumping, heads rolling on shoulders, eyes closed. My sun god stayed on the fringe and kept hold of my hand.

Pretty wild, the medic had warned, and I got what he meant – some of the dancers were completely out of their heads, others grabbed water bottles from a table by the giant sound system, tipped their heads back and poured it over their faces. There was a lot of swaying and stumbling, falling into the person next to you, and some body-surfing as the wave of dancers pressed towards the stage. A girl in a cherub costume was lifted on to the platform, her wings broken. She sat huddled, with her head sunk on to her knees until a guy in black came out of the wings and carried her out of sight.

Zoran sang on: ‘You don’t know me, you have no clue/ Who I am, what I do to you.’ He wailed the words above a racing whine of lead and bass guitar, gliding across the stage, twisting and turning, seeming to gloat as he mouthed the lyrics. ‘You don’t know me, you never will/ Shadows fall, voices kill …’

Another girl among the dancers passed and out and was lifted over people’s heads, her body limp. She was carried offstage – Zoran’s medic was having a busy night.

‘And how about you, Tania – are you doing OK now?’ Daniel murmured in my ear.

The top of my head felt as if it was lifting off, the drumbeat thudded through my whole body but I managed to nod. I noticed that he’d lowered the visor on his headdress and that the bird mask looked eerily real.

‘You don’t want to dance?’

I shook my head. What was happening out there was less of a dance, more mass hysteria – a mess of gyrating bodies and flailing arms that looked scary enough from the outside so God only knew what it felt like when you were actually in the middle of it. My anxiety level rose as I looked for Holly and saw her at the front of the surge of bodies that pressed against the stage. But I shouldn’t have worried – jammed against the platform, Holly simply put both hands on the stage and hoisted herself up like a swimmer slithering out of a pool. Next thing I knew, she was up there beside the lead guitarist, dancing on.

Bird man next to me slid his arm around my shoulder, his black wings fluttering against my skin. I didn’t like that – the creepy feel of it or the fact that Daniel was in my space without being invited. I stepped away; saw his eagle eyes glitter behind the mask.

‘I have to find Grace.’ I gave a feeble excuse and plunged into the crowd, pushed my way forward until I reached the stage and waved wildly at Mercury girl to draw her attention. ‘Where’s Grace?’ I mouthed.

Holly shrugged without breaking rhythm. By now there were half a dozen guests dancing onstage with the musicians and it felt to me like the whole thing was out of control. I was being pressed against the edge of the platform, struggling against the forward thrust and suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Holly must have seen me being crushed and about to go under because she crouched down and extended her hand. I grabbed it and she hauled me up beside her.

‘You don’t know me/ Though you see my face.’ Zoran swept across the stage towards us, wheeling away at the last second so that I caught his features in blurred close-up – teeth bared and eyes flashing, driven on by some wild, untamed energy, seemingly fuelled by the control he’d gained over his audience. He swooped on smoothly. ‘My name is lost in time and space.’

‘Dance,’ Holly gasped, dragging me to my feet.

I looked at her face. Her forehead glistened with sweat and her eyes were unfocused; wet strands of blonde hair stuck to her cheeks. ‘Let’s go!’ I pleaded.

She looked at me like I was the crazy one. ‘Go?’

‘Leave! Let’s find Grace and get out of here.’ This was too much. I was feeling weird, crossing that line between what was real and unreal, falling into disorientation and chaos.

The music drove on, drums rolled, a cymbal clashed.

Holly pushed me back with both hands and carried on dancing. She’d given up on party-pooper me.

I turned and saw two Zoran heavies standing guard in the wings. I spun back to find Daniel onstage next to me, arms and wings spread wide, seeming to hover as Zoran did, to levitate above the boards, his upper body captured in a vivid slash of green light.

He is airborne, hovering over me, his cruel curved beak is real, his eyes have me in their sights. Man becomes beast, human features melt and transform, I’m living a nightmare
.

N
ext morning I was holed up in what I call my studio. Actually, it’s part of the garage. My dad converted the space a couple of years back, when he saw how much I loved to paint. There’s a clear panel in the roof to let in daylight, a sink with running water in one corner, shelves and a counter for materials and a professional easel that Mom picked up in a garage sale.

Here is where I do my artwork and where I go when the world closes in on me and I need time out.

Saturday was one of those days.

The inks were prepared, the silkscreen frame laid flat, the rollers ready. I was picking things up, fumbling, putting them back down, failing to make decisions.

‘What’s up?’ Holly came in without knocking, dressed in sky-blue jogging pants and vest. ‘You look lousy.’

‘I
feel
lousy.’ My head felt hollow, my eyes wouldn’t focus. No wonder I couldn’t move forward with my printing.

‘Wimp,’ Holly grunted, though she herself didn’t look great. ‘Anyway, how much alcohol did you consume last night?’

‘Not much.’

‘What was it – wine or shots?’

‘I don’t remember.’ Like I said, my head was empty of all facts relating to the night before, beyond the point when Daniel turned into a black eagle. ‘This sounds crazy, Holly, but do you happen to know how I got home?’

‘Jeez,’ she sighed, leaning against the window sill and blocking my light. ‘I didn’t realize you were so totally out of it. You don’t remember Aaron coming back to the party to drive us home?’

I shook my head. ‘Cool. Remind me to say thanks next time I see him.’

‘That’s typical Aaron. We have a fight, he goes for a walk on the mountain, thinks it through, then comes back to check I’m OK.’

‘Lucky you.’ I meant it – from every way you look at it, it seemed like Holly had found herself an exceptional guy.

‘He said he had to practically drag me away from the place, even though it was three a.m. and almost everyone else had left. Like you, I was totally out of it.’

‘The girl admits to a weakness at last,’ I sighed. ‘Holly Randle is not superwoman!’

‘I’m a bitch,’ she frowned. ‘Note to self – in future, be nicer to my man.’

We both managed a weak smile then another sigh.

‘Aaron found you in a dark corner, all alone. And now I’m thinking – I’m wondering …’ Holly faltered.

‘Did someone spike our drinks?’ I guessed what was on her mind.

‘Yeah. I honestly don’t believe I drank all that much.’

‘Me neither. But I guess everyone says that on the morning after the night before. And, like I say, I don’t remember what happened after the first song of Zoran’s second set.’ Man turns into bird, starts to fly … ‘You say Aaron drove us home – cool, I have to believe it.’

‘Scary, huh?’ The frown was back on Holly’s face as she tugged at the scrunchy that kept her hair in a high ponytail. ‘We were up onstage dancing, remember? It was totally wild – people getting crushed against the platform, girls passing out. The security guys didn’t have a handle on it.’

There was a long silence while I tried to block the image of Daniel hovering over me, eagle mask covering his face, feathers against my skin, drums beating loud, guitars whining. ‘Suppose they did spike the drinks,’ I muttered. ‘What are we talking?’

Holly was reluctant to answer then came up with the word that had already crossed my under-functioning brain. ‘Rohypnol?’

I blinked and looked out from under half-closed lids, through the blur of eyelashes. ‘The date-rape drug?’

‘Yeah.’ Our conversation ground to a halt while we thought through what might have taken place in that lost interval when the drug held sway.

‘Would we taste that in our drinks?’ I asked with a big shudder.

She shook her head. ‘I guess not.’

‘
Who
are we talking?’

‘I’m not sure. Maybe individual drinks were spiked, or maybe the water bottles on the table close to the stage—’

‘Whoa!’ I put up both hands, felt my stomach twist into a tight knot. ‘Holly, this is serious!’

‘So let’s look it up,’ she insisted, seeing my laptop perched on the counter next to the bottles of ink. Before I could stop her she’d googled
date rape drugs
.

‘Alcohol, GHB, Rohypnol.’ Over her shoulder I read out the alternatives thrown up on screen. Apparently alcohol was by far the most common date-rape drug, used in over ninety per cent of cases.

‘But we reckon we didn’t drink over the limit,’ Holly reminded me. She clicked on to GHB – gamma hydroxy … something. Tastes salty, needs to be ingested in large quantities, so probably not a contender. Rohypnol – also known as roofies, takes effect in forty-five minutes, induces hypnotic, dissociative, amnesiac effect. We read the facts in silence.

When we finished, Holly looked up at me. ‘Yes or no?’

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. ‘Maybe.’ Hypnotic – yes. Plus the sensation of things not being real – Daniel melting into animal form, actually becoming the eagle. Plus forgetting everything that happened to me after the drug took effect. I thought of the glass of water that Ezra had brought for me after I passed out, before everything went weird.

‘I’m thinking definitely yes,’ Holly sighed. ‘And I’m wondering, did Zoran know there was Rohypnol circulating at his party?’

This shocked me again – it seemed so nasty, so premeditated. ‘And what happened to Grace?’ I said suddenly. The knot in my stomach pulled tighter.

Holly sprang into action. ‘I didn’t hear from her. Let’s go find out!’ She was out of the door, grabbing my car keys from the hook on the way.

‘What about lunch?’ Dad asked through the kitchen window.

‘Not hungry,’ I told him hurriedly. I turned the ignition, slid into gear, rolled down the drive. I should write a manual: How to cause maximum stress to your parents when you’re seventeen years old and don’t get home from a party until dawn.

Grace lives right in the centre of Bitterroot. The big, detached house stands next to a bank on a corner opposite a fancy deli. The house is styled like an English country cottage with gables and shutters. When we arrived, there was only one car in the drive – Grace’s white Toyota.

‘OK, looks like she made it back home,’ Holly muttered, ringing the front door bell.

For ages no one answered. ‘Maybe she’s out with Jude,’ I suggested.

But then we heard footsteps and Grace opened the door.

‘Wow!’ As always, Holly didn’t hold back. ‘I thought Tania looked bad until I saw you.’

Grace used one hand to steady herself against the door, the other to shield her eyes against the light. It upset me to see that she was still dressed in the remains of her fancy dress costume – the white robe without the gold cords or the wings. The hem of the dress was ripped and I noticed bruising to her right foot and ankle. ‘What time is it?’

‘Midday,’ I told her. ‘Why is no one else home?’

‘My folks are in Chicago on business, back Tuesday.’

‘Can we come in?’ Holly didn’t wait for an answer. She slid past Grace, and I followed, heading straight across the big, polished hallway towards the kitchen where I took cold water from the fridge. I poured it into a glass, added ice then handed it to Grace.

She sipped slowly.

‘Are you feeling nauseous?’ Holly checked.

Grace nodded and put down the glass. I steered her towards a bar stool and sat her down, allowing her to prop her elbows on the counter and cover her face with her hands.

‘What happened?’ Holly asked.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Did you drive yourself home?’

‘Don’t ask me.’

‘Have you seen Jude?’ I asked more gently. ‘Grace, take your hands away from your face – let us see you. Have you talked with him?’

Slowly she shook her head.

‘And Ezra – did he come back with you?’

Grace closed her eyes and let her head sink forward. Then, with an effort, she jerked it back up. ‘I said, don’t ask, OK?’

‘If it helps, we’re all feeling pretty lousy,’ Holly told her, pacing the room, fiddling with the slats of the venetian blind. ‘And I’m feeling guilty that we didn’t check up on you before we left Zoran’s place. I just assumed that because I couldn’t see you, you’d already left.’

‘She was too drunk to drive,’ I reminded them. ‘So it must have been Ezra who did the driving. Did he?’ I pressed anxiously.

‘I have no idea,’ she shot back. ‘Is that good enough? I have no clue how I got from the party to here!’

‘Ditto,’ I breathed. ‘How scary is that?’

‘Not scary,’ Grace argued. Her anger seemed to suddenly dissolve into weariness. ‘Just stupid. We drank way too much. We messed up a million brain cells. So what’s new?’

I nodded. Holly shook her head. ‘Bullshit.’

There was another ring on the door bell and we jumped a mile. ‘I’ll get it,’ I said.