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"I can't believe you dragged me out to this dump!" I squealed in protest to my best friend Amanda.
"Shh. Just let it happen Ferrah." She squealed back to me in a fit of giggles.
My favorite pick up line.
I rolled my eyes and took a look around at "Dizzy's". Clubs always look so glamorous in the movies. This dump was NOT glamorous. Mirrors covered every wall and the floor was some sort of red tile. Laminate? Maybe. There was a DJ booth in the center of the room and a real live disco ball hanging from the ceiling. Twenty-five or so of Carmichael, Indiana's finest drunks were writhing around on the "dance floor" like epileptics. The only way to know your absolutely drunk is when you decide Dizzy's is a good idea, and Amanda was definitely wasted. It actually was usually busier there but it was a Sunday and most normal people were at home preparing for work the next day.
"Let's dance!" Amanda said while handing me the drink she had bought me while I was busy looking around. I took the drink and then looked at Amanda. She was like me at around 5'7 but that is about where the similarities stopped. She was a quarter Cherokee so she had a beautiful tan and the biggest brown eyes you'd have ever seen. She had sleek black hair that never frizzed. I almost hated her for it. She was dressed up in a small tight black dress and a pair of heels and she looked amazing. I smiled at my friend who was very drunk and then went to join her on the dance floor.
Two excruciating hours later I heard the magic words over the loud system, "LAST CALL". Amanda was wrapped around some townie and I figured that as a public service to her I was going to pull her off him. I mean dog isn't usually a word women use towards men, but this was an extreme case. He was short and had curly frizzy long hair. He looked like he was about forty and still had acne everywhere. It was bad.
"Amanda sweetie, we have to go." I said and then whispered "Beer goggles sweetie. They are doing a number on you!"
She giggled but wouldn't let the man go.
It still took me another ten minutes to pry her off of him and only after she gave him her real name and number. Something I was sure she'd be regretting in the morning. I half carried, half dragged her outside and threw her ass in a cab. I was walking home that night. Lucky me, I had an apartment a few blocks away from main street. It wasn't much but it was close to the college.
About 2 blocks away from my place I "felt" more then heard someone following me. Like when all the hair on the back of your neck stands up and you just know someone is looking at you. I guess that’s one perk of having two full blooded hunters for parents, hightened senses.
I knew if it was more than a human following me I had a slim to none chance of fending it off but just in case I did a mental weapons check. My hair clip ended in a knife tip but that was only a two inch blade. I pulled it out anyway. My brown hair did a rolling fall from the messy bun it was in and landed in a snarled mess almost to my waist. I sighed, that always looked cooler in the movies.
I couldn't think of anything else on me that could improvise as a weapon. The slinky silver halter top barely counted as a shirt and my black leather pants were too tight to conceal anything. I was wearing my favorite stilettos so I guess a good amount of force could be used to turn them into stakes if I had to, they do have a wooden heel after all. I was sightly ashamed that I hadn't prepared better for some kind of trouble.
YOU ARE READING
Full Moon HuntingMystery / Thriller
Mystery, Sex, Murder, Betrayal. Ferrah Davis is in for all that and more when a local werewolf pack asks her for help. The question is will she survive it?