Free Lovers and Reprisals (Lovers Series) by Lori Turner Page B

an instrument; Ona had read countless articles and research that proved how beneficial this form of therapy can be when helping a child heal from emotional wounds.  Ona’s mind raced with all the things she had to do, before the weeks end.  Her mind had been occupied with her project and without meaning to, she’d walked down a street she’d intended to bypass.  Bishop Square housed a number of people whose parties tended to go overboard.  This also was an area not to far from where many of the cities rich people lived, in their ritzy high-rise apartments and oversized brownstones.  Samaritan’s rarely traveled alone, and when she’d left the Samaritan Conclave, she’d exited the building with a few other people.  Yet, somewhere in between the Conclave and Bishop Square; due to the over crowded streets, Ona had gotten separated from members belonging to her Sect.  Her eyes searched wildly, looking through a sea of people dressed in fashionable clothing.  She didn’t see one black, grey or navy outfit; these were the shades that typically colored Samaritan clothes.
    “Don’t panic Ona--stay cool.  It’ll be fine.”  She told herself.  No sooner did this lie leave her lips, a strange man wrapped his arms around her waist, spinning her, until she faced him.
    “Happy New Year’s Day!” he yelled, then he wobbled attempting to seal his announcement with a wet sloppy kiss.  Ona pressed her palms against his chest, fighting to resist him. 
    “Wait a minute...” the man protested.  “All I was trying to do was...”
    From behind, Ona heard a slap, then the man released his hold while falling at an angle.  Someone had hit his head, and when he was on the ground, she’d locked eyes with his assaulter.  Ona was thankful when this woman’s piercing glare landed on the octopus man.
    “That’ll teach you to cheat...just you wait. ” 
    Ona fixed her gaze on a woman she was sure was ten years older than her.  She nailed Ona with an angry glare when she said...
    “You’d do good to get out of here--reformer.”
    Reformer.  Ona remembered the first time she’d heard this word; it was then that she learned that some people despised her Sect.  Being called a reformer by this woman was the same as being spat in the face.
    “Get!”  the woman screamed.  Then the woman turned her attention back to the man who had practically mauled her.
    Ona stumbled, trying to distance herself.  She recalled a street that led back in the direction of Conclave Square.  If she took this route, she could wait in front of her Conclave, then she could join a group of Samaritans and walk with them back to the dock.  Yes...she thought.  That’s exactly what she would do. 
    Ona hurried her pace and it didn’t pass her notice that her progress was slow.  She’d never been around so many people and it seemed that not one of them was sober.  She passed doorways, and building fronts; using these landmarks to gauge her position.  She was coming up on a crosswalk, and from there she would only have one more block to walk, then she could retrace her steps back to the Conclave.  The horde of people moved like a rushing rapid, and even if she wanted to turn now, going back the way she came; the crushing swarm made turning impossible.  She had to move forward, and hope that the other route would favor her direction.  Ona was passing a house where loud music and laughter swelled, and inside she could see people pressed together, drinking and dancing.  Each face held an expression of utter joy.  She’d always been curious to learn about other people and their beliefs.  And working with children outside of her Sect would give her that unique opportunity.  Ona watched as a woman twirled in the outer foyer of the house; she spun until her dancing landed her on the sidewalk.  For some reason, her rhythmic movements spread like wildfire, then everyone around her began to shake, hop, quiver and sway.  An electric beat