Page 52 of Tracking Snow

Chapter 17

A Fish Out of Isolated Waters, Watching Hot Chicks on a Bar

ONE

My skin crawls as the hulking bouncer studies my fake ID.

I normally would never be caught in a place like this. I absolutely should not be here, and yet...

It's been too long. Too many nights that stretched into boredom without a single Snow sighting, so here I am, tracking her down.

Because we hurt her. And her hurt is now our hurt, and it's unbearable.

The bouncer's dark, flat eyes look right through me, making me feel like he knows all our secrets.

But that's just my paranoia.

It's not out of the question, Six points out. This place is a hotbed for magical beings. Maybe he can read our secrets.

Great, Two says sarcastically. That makes us feel better.

Finally, I'm handed back my ID and waved inside into what feels like a totally different realm.

The place is bigger than I expected.

A real live tree grows out of the floor, fairy lights threaded through the branches, amber light falling over everything below. Heavy perfumes, warm wood, and spilled spirits overpower my senses, but I'm not sure I dislike it.

Bottles are stacked several stories high behind the bar like backlit gold. People crowd every available inch, talking, laughing, drinking, pressed together at the tables, the bar, and the dance floor in a writhing swarm that matches the beat.

I don't go to bars. I don't go anywhere with more than three people in it if I can help it, and even then, I'm mapping the fastest way out of the room.

The noise alone is torturous—the way it stacks, conversation on top of music on top of laughter on top of glass on glass until I can't pull one clean sound from any of it.

I've already got six other voices in my head, and the added noise violently overwhelms me, causing me to start backing up toward the door.

Why are we here again? Six asks.

Because we miss her, Five answers. We need to apologize. We really hurt her.

Everything is so boring without her, Two adds, and I can feel Four's hearty agreement. Even Three is quietly pushing me forward.

I try to keep my opinion to myself, but I can't say I disagree.

The midnight hour slows to a crawl. Even though we told her to get lost, almost every minute is strung with the hope that I'll catch sight of her gorgeous white hair coming from around a corner, or from a rooftop while she plays sneaky black cat.

My chest wrenches with a painful feeling. A longing.

Mother wouldn't like this, Seven adds, the only one truly reluctant to be here.

Mother isn't here, is she? Two counters. Besides, Snow is human. She'd approve of that.

I try to ignore the commentary and force myself forward. Four surges toward the forefront again, as if attracted to the heat of the room like a moth to a flame.

His fascination winds around my trepidation, making it slightly easier to move forward, pushing my way through the crowd so I can rubberneck in an attempt to find Snow. So far, no sighting.

Didn't she say she was the bartender? Three asks.

I look in that direction, but no one is behind the bar.