Free Ex-Purgatory: A Novel by Peter Clines Page B

he’d slept with and felt ashamed that he couldn’t remember a name or even a face.
    “You could score with her,” said Nick.
    “What?”
    He pointed at the fluorescent-haired woman. “Her. She’s looked at you half a dozen times now at least. You’ve gotta pay attention to this stuff.”
    George took another look at the woman. She had muscular arms, but lots of curves. She smiled at him. Then her gaze slid off him and over to the bar. It slid in a way that clearly meant he was invited to come ask what she was looking at.
    He followed her gaze, just for a moment, and then froze.
    The stringy-haired blonde was on the dance floor. Another woman was with her. This one wore a T-shirt with a dark stain across the collar and chest. The second woman turned to George and he saw she had blank eyes, too, and her mouth was ringed with messy lipstick. Maybe some kind of sauce from food she’d crammed into her mouth.
    Maybe something else.
    The second woman grinned at George, a wide grin that showed a lot of teeth. He realized after a moment her lips and part of her cheeks were gone, showing off her bare jaw. Her teeth clicked together, keeping time with the pounding bass line from the speakers.
    They weren’t women. They weren’t even alive. They were monsters.
    “Jesus,” muttered George.
    Nick followed his gaze. “What?”
    They flanked a man. He didn’t see what they were. He swung his hips and pumped the air even as they fell on him. The blonde sank its teeth into his bicep. The other one bit into his shoulder. Their jaws worked back and forth as they tore loose mouthfuls of meat.
    George leaped up. His thigh hit the edge of the table hard enough to tilt it and knock over both drinks. The table wobbled and fell over onto Nick.
    “Fuck!” he barked.
    George glanced down and saw himself reflected in his friend’s glasses. Then he looked back to the dance floor, stepping forward as he did. It took him a moment to find the two …
    Women. Just two women with hair that had been arranged and styled to look unkempt. They wore a lot of dark makeup around their eyes. They were grinding against the guy. He looked like he was having a lot more fun than George.
    All three of them glanced his way. They looked at him and then at the fallen table. They never stopped dancing.
    He looked around for a moment, confused. His eyes landed on the fluorescent redhead and she winked at him. It was a very promising wink.
    George looked back at Nick. He pushed against the table edge until it tipped back the other way. “Cheap-ass hardware,” muttered Nick. He looked at the base of the table. “The bolts snapped right off.”
    “You okay?” asked George.
    “Are
you
okay? You jumped up like something bit you.”
    “What? Yeah, sorry, I just thought I saw—”
    “Damn it,” said Nick. His sunglasses were focused at the far end of the bar. “We should go.”
    “Why?”
    “Remember I said I thought the owner didn’t like me?”
    “Yeah.”
    Nick angled his sunglasses toward the bar. “Well, it looks like we just broke a table in his club.”
    Across the room a buzz-cut man in a glossy suit glowered atthem. Two oversized men in black polo shirts lumbered toward them.
    “We didn’t do anything,” said George.
    “Great,” said Nick. “We can feel really superior when they drag us out by our necks. Come on.” He gestured toward the dance floor.
    “Why?”
    “Because there are a lot of people here and my boss’ll be pissed if he hears I got thrown out of a club. We’re going to dodge them and leave on our own.” Nick started walking.
    George took a few steps and someone grabbed his arm. He looked over at the fluorescent-haired woman. She was almost as tall as him. “About time,” she said with a grin. “I was going to come over there and climb into your lap.”
    He tried to think of a good answer and his shirt got tight. It twisted into a knot between his shoulder blades. Right above the spot where he …
    What was