บท 2: Chapter 2
Sonya smiled at her. “Pleased to meet you. Forgive my butting in like this but Mark promised he’d be out here. If I have to stand around and make idle chitchat, so does he.” She had what looked like a firm hold on Luke’s arm. “Will you excuse us?”
Luke gave Renée a mock look of suffering. Then he said, “If you want, I’ll bring Mark over later.”
Had her inner fan girl shown? Renée hoped not, but she couldn’t resist answering, “Sure. That would be great.”
Luke and Sonya disappeared into the crowd, which left Renée with the task of seeking out chocolate.
She made her way toward the refreshment table again. It was long, that thing, and had several satellites dedicated to veggies, various meats, and, ooh, yes! Chocolate.
When Renée was about three feet from the table, someone with honey-colored hair stepped in front of her to raid the table’s contents. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a problem. But this woman’s shape, hair color, and perfume sent Renée’s heart down the rabbit hole.
That’s not Jenny, she told herself as she backed away slowly. If she didn’t do it cautiously, she was afraid she’d flee like that poor bunny in the story. When she was a good distance away, she turned and walked, stiff-legged, toward the liquor. She wouldn’t get smashed; not tonight. But she needed something to steady her nerves.
After she’d taken a shot of something that the bartender suggested, she headed for the dance floor again. There was a large group of women all dancing together. She hesitated but one of them waved her in. She slipped to the very middle of the cluster, needing to feel others around her. They weren’t dancing as lesbians might dance, with touches and the like, but their energy was cathartic.
* * * *
Jenny felt a tingling on the back of her neck. Her short hairs rose and Jenny knew someone was looking at her. She didn’t whip around and stare wildly; after years of working at SearchLight, she’d learned to trust that feeling but not give into it. If somebody was really trying to get her attention, they’d either come up and tap her on the shoulder, or they’d…
Oh, but the feeling intensified. The staring person felt something strong about Jenny. Usually only negative emotions carried to her one trustworthy psychic sense.
She turned slowly, scanning the crowd as she moved, lifting a piece of chocolate cake to her mouth as if she actually cared about the treat now that what her family called her “prey” feeling had been triggered. “Prey” because, as a quarter fae, Jenny would have been prey to other fae in centuries past. Right now, sheltered by newly-developed propriety and the statutes of SearchLight, the fae didn’t feed on their weaker members. But still, someone was feeling something strong about her and she wanted to know who had such ire.
She saw no one.
She ate the bit of chocolate cake. She didn’t like thinking of these as “brownies” because those were her distant kin. Very distant since she was only a quarter fae and that quarter was grand fae, dryads. But “common” though brownies might be, they were still treated with greater respect than Jenny. The only reason she’d been allowed to live was because she was mostly human and her aunt was a powerful member of SearchLight. Besides, her parents loved her.
Even if they were the tiniest bit judgmental about her nonexistent love life, her chosen career, and her refusal to live in their household under their constant protection.
She scanned the immediate area again, spotted no one she knew, and decided that whoever had been staring at her had either mistaken her for someone else, figured it out and wandered off, or was only mildly annoyed with her, not enough to stand and make their case. She did not doubt her feelings. She’d been having them for too long to discount them or mistake them for anything else.
Jenny walked toward the dance floor, keeping clear of a large group of females, probably mostly human, who were gyrating together. She didn’t want to be part of such a huge crowd. Instead, she found her fellow medtech, Tom, and asked if he wanted to dance. He knew she was a lesbian and had never pursued her as some straight men did, with the hopes of being part of an eventual threesome. She loved him for that.
“Bored, ducky?” he asked, teasing her by using the nickname she used on people she was annoyed with. “Sure, I’ll dance.”
Jenny punched his arm lightly and laughed when he bopped her one right back. Gradually, as the night wore on, she forgot about the weird feeling that had precipitated her leaving the refreshment table.2
For Renée, the first task of every morning in the archives was the one she liked best: shelving books. The first time she did it, she went as quickly and accurately as possible. The second time, she was tempted to take longer than the task really required just so she’d have something to do besides wait for people to show up with requests.
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