Free The Light-Field by Traci Harding Page B

cracked a grin as he eyed up his second shot. ‘I think he’s trying to exploit my relationship with the boss .’ He gulped down the shot and revelled in the warm shudders it sent through his system.
    â€˜Relationship?’ Mythric’s grin was sceptical, as he felt Zeven was a little young for Taren’s taste.
    â€˜I am a confidant,’ Zeven clarified and shrugged. ‘Anselm envies that. I think he feels that if I trust him, so will the boss, and that ain’t so far from the truth. Hence his eagerness to be my new best friend.’
    â€˜Sheesh, I envy that … I thought I was your new best friend?’ Mythric jested, and downed another mescaline.
    â€˜You are that.’ Zeven filled their glasses and they held them up. ‘To a dream team, and the one who brought us together … to the boss.’
    â€˜To the boss.’ Mythric clinked his glass against Zeven’s, and they drank again.
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    It was only when the music started that Zeven realised night had fallen. ‘Hey, when did that happen?’ He pointed to the dark sky, suddenly aware that he was tripping out of his mind.
    Mythric gave that knowing smile of his. ‘About three hours ago.’
    Zeven gave his partner the thumbs up, glad to know that one of them still had his wits about him. ‘Don’t let me do anything stupid, like drive my car.’
    â€˜Never.’ The thought was calming and Zeven stretched back in his seat to enjoy the music.
    It was a pumping, raunchy piece that the live band were grinding out, and at the sound of the smouldering female vocal, Starman raised himself from the table for the first time in hours. ‘I’ll be back, I need to pee,’ he told Mythric.
    â€˜Thanks for sharing.’ His partner waved him on.
    A young, over-privileged crowd were packed into the club now. ‘Uni students.’ Zeven rolled his eyes.
    There was a very attractive all-girl band on stage; all the fronting members of which had their backs to the audience at present and were swinging their leather-clad behinds in time to the beat.
    As young girls were eyeing him off, Zeven made a beeline for the men’s room, doing his best to ignore all the admiring glances — completely forgetting that he appeared not much older than they were.
    Upon his return to the room the lead singer was belting out a slower, more seductive song with attitude. Her voice was a real turn on, but since Zeven was far from being the tallest guy in the room, he headed toward the bar, where the floor was raised, and he could get a look at her.
    She was a pint-sized blonde bombshell in dark brown leather, thigh-high stiletto boots and a matching mini-dress that flashed off her fit, sweaty form and her more than adequate breasts. She was thrashing the guitar in her hands as she huddled with the bass playerand lead guitarist — both brunettes. One was fair-skinned and one dark, and both equally as easy on the eye. The singer returned to the microphone, and as she resumed her song, their eyes met and Zeven nearly died.
    â€˜Oh yeah,’ he uttered, stunned. ‘I’m tripping all right.’
    The sexy rock goddess on the stage was Aurora, and she was singing seductive lyrics at him — her eyes locked on him alone.
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    Aurora’s heart was thumping so hard that she felt sure everyone in the room could see it jumping right out of her chest. Fortunately, she’d done so many gigs lately that she could have played the set in a coma.
    She strummed the last note of the song and the crowd broke into a round of whistles and applause. ‘Thank you!’ she said, unable to wipe the smile from her face, as she left the microphone and walked over to Zanthie, who was changing guitars. ‘You know that ghost we were discussing earlier?’
    â€˜Yeah.’ Zanthie plugged in.
    â€˜He’s over by the bar,’ Aurora told her, never taking her eyes off her dream boy.
    Zanthie