Out of the Shadows Read Online Free Page A

gripping her. If Terrence had only taken her not-so-subtle hinting that night and left her alone, he would still be alive.
    Scissors’s weary voice pierced Lori’s melancholy. “Shot or glass?”
    “Shot,” Lori said.
    At the same time, the bartender mumbled, “Like I had to ask.”
    Lori ignored the sarcastic quip. Within moments, a shot glass full of amber liquid sat before her. She reached for it, but her hand fell to the polished counter. Last time she’d indulged this desire for oblivion, she’d woken up in Terrence’s bed. Naked.
    “Maybe some coffee instead?”
    Lori gave a vicious shake of her head. Coffee would wake her up. She wanted to sleep, free of nightmares. But she didn’t touch the alcohol.
    Scissors’s cooing voice wafted around her. “Do you want to talk about it? I haven’t seen Terrence–”
    “Don’t.” God, were those tears in her eyes? Lori kicked back the shot, hoping to save herself from embarrassment. Warmth spread down her esophagus to her stomach. But it was fleeting. Setting the glass down on the counter, she whispered, “Scotch.”
    With reluctance painted on her face, Scissors refilled the glass. The faux-vampire caught Lori’s hand. “It’ll be okay.”
    Not for Terrence.
    Lori didn’t answer. After a moment, Scissors backed away to continue preparing the club for business. Lori stared into her shot glass. The first shot was only a memory. Should she continue drinking? But who would bring her home this time if she did?
    “Well, well. If it isn’t Lori Glory. You didn’t burst into flames, coming out this early?”
    That voice. Underground was the last place Lori had expected to meet this particular snotty brat. She glanced up, over the counter, at the blond-haired prep.
    But Heaven Jessup had performed a magic act over her appearance. Her golden hair still maintained its radiance, but her blue eyes were heavily ringed with eyeliner. Lipstick darkened her mouth. And even Heaven’s porcelain skin couldn’t have achieved that level of paleness without cosmetic help.
    Instead of responding to the girl’s quip, Lori made one of her own. “Are you even old enough to drink alcohol?”
    Heaven shrugged. “I have an ID saying I am and a certificate licensing me to serve others. So what’ll it be, Lori Glory?”
    Scotch. But she had some already. However much her body called for her to drain the shot, she held off. If she got plastered, would Heaven draw a mustache on her face? Unfortunately, she wouldn’t put it past the petty kid.
    Lifting her gaze, she snarled, “Solitude.”
    With a shrug and an infuriating smile, Heaven sauntered away.
    Lori returned her attention to the beckoning shot glass.
    * * * *
    Hours later, familiar club music assaulted her ears, coupled with the crowd’s babble. Her shot stood untouched in front of her.
    A news broadcast crossed the muted television screen above. Lori’s black fake nails dug into her palm as she read the closed captions.
     
    Two weeks after the mysterious emergency call, the warehouse victims have been identified as Gregory Smith and Edward Rosland. While the gun contained Rosland’s fingerprints, authorities have ruled out a murder-suicide due to the disturbing bite marks on his neck. The elusive killer still haunts the night, though no other connecting murders have yet been found.
     
    Lori struggled to draw breath. Two victims. There should have been a third, out front. Terrence. What had happened to his body?
    Her fingers closed around the shot glass. She didn’t want to think about it. Steeling herself, she lifted the liquid to her mouth.
    A man’s voice interrupted her. “Excuse me, are you Lori?”
    Slowly, she set down the shot before turning around. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a hooked nose. She didn’t recognize the stranger. From his casual jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket, he was clearly out of his element. Why would he search her out? How would he have trailed her to Underground?
    When she didn’t say