Deathless

Chapter 10: Jackson

"All alone? You losing your touch with the ladies, Jax?"

I drag my lips into a half-hearted smile but don't reply. Instead, I focus on the light ricocheting off the mirrors behind the bar, how they turn my amber drink into a gaudy gold. I take another sip, expecting to savour the richness and heat as it hits the back of my throat, but like most things now, the pleasure feels false. I never worry about talking to women. I rarely plan, rarely think about it all. But the idea of talking to Millie? It makes my throat feel like sandpaper.

After tonight, it will be over. This little infatuation. I'll see that she's no different from any other mortal girl, nothing like my Camille. And then I'll move on. And those green eyes, the ones that make me feel like I'm deep in a forest, sheltered and hidden from the rest of the world, will fade into the background of my life.

She'll just be another person I need to forget.

"Not at all. Let's just say tonight, I'm trying a different approach. She's going to come to me." The slick arrogance in my voice makes me recoil. I grin at Blake, hoping he's too dazzled to notice that I'm lying through my teeth. I have no plan. I just need another drink to steady my nerves before I seek her out.

"That's an... interesting approach."

"You know me, I'm nothing if not creative."

Blake chuckles as he dries a glass with a 'Worship' embossed cloth. Like everything here, the devil is in the detail. Worship is not the most popular club in Bristol, with queues every night, and influencers begging us for VIP tickets, for nothing. I made my mark on every part of this club, from the colour of the floor tiles to the mirrored panels behind the bar. But maybe it was the same reason I was growing to hate it, because how do you escape yourself in a place reflecting every inch of the worst of you?

I created a place that's all about the way light bounces off a mirror, distracting from the truth in the reflection. There's nothing real here, nothing behind the spectacle. It's the same as every other bar or pub or club I'd built. The cracks always find their way to the surface, eventually. No amount of gilded lies hides an ugly truth.

"Well, I think your approach works," Blake smirks and I twist in my chair, blinking in surprise as I follow his gaze to the opposite side of the room, glittering from the light of the chandelier, Millie is stumbling around the balcony towards me. Her eyes fixed nervously on me.

I smile. I can't help myself. She's tugging down her short dress, and my eyes glance down past the sparkly fabric to the soft skin of her thighs. Her make-up is slightly smudged and her eyes are a little hazy from too much drink, her cheeks are flushed and there's a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. She's a mess.

She's also the beautiful girl in Worship.

She approaches the stool next to me, those full lips curling seductively, but her eyes look terrified. Blake watches her with a raised eyebrow and a slight quirk to his lips, even as he pretends to focus on putting away the dry glass. As she tries to raise herself on the stool, her heel catches and she stumbles forward. I catch her by the elbows before she falls altogether, lifting her gently, so she's sitting fully on the stool. Her cheeks turn even redder and she looks away, sighing in defeat.

Across the room, even over the booming music, I can hear the sour brunette laughing. When I shoot her a look, she arches her back a little and softens her mouth. Subtle she isn't, which is usually my type, but I feel a million miles away from that right now.

"Hi," I say, and after a brief hesitation, she turns to me and smiles. Her whole face changes, like a light has come on from within. Girls smile at me all the time. I can draw out smiles from a pretty girl like a conductor can draw a symphony from an orchestra. But there's something about her smile that makes me feel like I'm worthy. Like I've earned it.