Teeth

Chapter Ten

Thomas had no idea why he had agreed to this. He wasn't even sure that he believed Spencer. Yet he had followed him to the club, allowing him to lead the way as, after a brief conversation with the bouncer, they skipped the queue. They walked into the dark thumping room and Thomas immediately reeled back.

His nose was on fire, flames scorching into the back of his throat and sending smoke swirling into his lungs. Scents hit him in a constant assault and before they'd even reached the bar, Thomas had covered both his nose and mouth with his hand, his eyes watering.

Spencer didn't seem to be having the same problem. He sauntered across to the bar as if he had never felt so relaxed, leaned up against it, and watched Thomas with an amused kind of pity.

"It'll get better," he assured him over the din. He turned away as if it were nothing and ordered them two beers Thomas had never heard of.

"Really?" Thomas demanded. "I can hardly breathe."

"Trust me," was all he said. Thomas grimaced behind his hand and decided that he didn't trust him, not one bit.

The deafening thump of the music wasn't quite as bad as the smell but he was sure he'd have a headache within the hour. Was it him, or had clubs never been this loud before? This club also hadn't lowered the lights quite as dark as normal. Thomas could see perfectly through the haze of dimmed lights and crushing bodies. Whichever club it was that Spencer had chosen for them, he didn't think he'd come here again.

"Here," Spencer announced, handing over one of the bottles of unfamiliar beer. "Take a swig of that and focus on the taste."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Just try."

Thomas shook his head and lifted the bottle. The beer didn't smell particularly appealing, yet as he drank one mouthful and then another he found that it was preferable to the mess of smells of the club. It was sweet, more so than the beers he usually drank. He tried to focus on the different tastes, imagining himself to be one of those pompous wine experts who deduced there were oaky tastes to their Cabernet Sauvignon, or something along the same ridiculous lines. There was something citric about it, sharp but refreshing. But it was also soft and balmy. Sure enough, the more he focused on the taste of the beer, the less the other tastes in his throat seemed to matter. Not that it did anything to help the gnawing hunger in his stomach. In fact, like the smell, the hunger felt worse now than it had been outside. He lifted the bottle to take another swig before Spencer placed his hand over the top, pushing it down away from his lips.

"Don't drink the whole thing, space it out."

He followed Spencer to a small raised section just off the dance floor. They claimed a couple of stools by the railing, placing their beers down. Sweat, sex, and perfume hit him in equal measure. While Spencer wasn't looking, he drank another mouthful of his citric beer.

"So, tell me something," Thomas said, leaning in towards his guide. "If all this is true, and I'm not saying it is, how come I was able to go out in the sun today? Was that all a myth?"

"No, that's true," Spencer answered, slinging his arm across the back of the stool and leaning in towards Thomas. "You are in what we call the 'twilight'. The transformation takes time and in that time you get the best of both worlds. By the time the sun rises you'll be one of us."

"So no more sun?"

"No more sun."

"Good thing I'm not a lifeguard," Thomas grumbled sarcastically.

He turned away from Spencer and stared across the dance floor, listening to the music. The beat thumped through him, vibrating against his skin, and yet he could hear the melody beneath. He could hear each note and the harder he listened for that tune, the less he could hear Spencer's laughter. Glancing at the older man again, he blinked in surprise and dug his finger into his ear as the symphony of sounds returned in a crash, deafening him.