Cognoscente

AN: Hey there. Long time, no update. Sorry, but I've had major writer's block for this story : ( But since I'm planning on retiring from fanfic, I'm going to finish this thing. And hopefully soon : D

7.

He wasn't immune to the wide-eyed stares and the dropping jaws as he allowed himself to be escorted by Morgan towards the front of the club. Said blonde was clinging to his arm, also noticing the attention and completely reveling in it. Zahi continued to hunch his shoulders, a physical sign of his mental want to curl up into a ball and hide. Whispers, spoken and unspoken, drifted through the air as the Followers and Initiates in front of The Fourth Wall began to put a name to the face.

"Is that-?"

"I thought he was dead-"

"Didn't the Atrox disown him-?"

"He looks good-"

"Who's the girl with him?"

"Shelooks good too-"

"Yvonne's going to freak."

Morgan giggled charmingly, even having the cheeky audacity to wave at a few of the gawkers who scowled at her. Zahi mimicked their expressions.

"It's bad enough that you have me here, must you draw even more excessive amounts of attention to us?"

She winked, "Zahi, it's what I do."

His frown grew.

Several people were littered outside of the club's entrance, smoking or waiting in line for admittance. All of them had yellow, glowing eyes. Well, all of them except for one who stood out like a very sore thumb. It wasn't long before he began to feel the caresses across his mind from female, and the occasional male, Follower- all urging him closer and closer to his repressed dark side. There was an uncomfortable stirring within him, and Zahi found himself beginning to grow lax in the hostile company. There was a start of something sinister, something Zahi thought he had finally rid himself.

"I can't go in there," he said with finality, beginning to pry away from her.

Morgan only clutched on to him tighter, "You promised," she hissed, nails digging into his arm.

He glared at her, "You should know by now not to trust my promises." He tried to wrench away, but she was persistent.

"They'll eat me alive in there, don't you care?"

There it was again, that self-acrimonious flicker of guilt. Zahi sighed, and took a deep breath. The mental turmoil was visible on his face and he wanted nothing more than to sprint towards the nearest taxi. But he could see the pinched, panicky expression on Morgan's previously giddy face and he hated to admit that he couldn't just leave her to the sharks.

"Half an hour," he amended.

"You promised an hour-"

"Half an hour." His tone was colder now, and left no room for arguments. Morgan's face fell, knowing there was no protest that could work.

"Fine," she said sourly in defeat.

The not-quite couple strolled up into the entrance, where a flabbergasted bouncer let them in without a word, staring at Zahi in supreme disbelief. Morgan smirked.

"Having you wrapped around my finger has its advantages-"

The glare he sent her made her blood run cold and her tongue fall silent. "It'll be fine," she said quickly with forced encouragement, "It's just a club."

"Just a club full of hope-sucking Followers," he said dryly, "No worries at all."

She playfully nudged her elbow into his side, "Lighten up Zahi." She quieted as they entered The Fourth Wall and a wicked smile crawled up her face, "Let's dance," she said, stretching her body sensually and dragging a reluctant Zahi out onto the floor.

---

If they found her, she was dead. More than dead. Buried six feet under and rotting dead. It wasn't everyday that a chosen Daughter of the Moon decided for a night out in a Follower club, but Serena was pleased to notice that so far she had managed to keep a low profile.

The club, some place called The Fourth Wall, held an established reputation for being a rowdy Follower hotspot, and Serena had reluctantly decided to start her investigation there for Stanton after a quick trip to The Dungeon failed to produce any leads. Despite the dozens of girls wearing mini skirts and tube tops, Serena was decked out in a pair of sweatpants and a plain tank top. She didn't want to attract any attention to herself, but despite her rather drab clothes she could steal feel stares on the back of her head. She sighed, weaving her body and mind through the crowd.

So far, the thoughts of the Followers had held nothing about Stanton, and she was beginning to grow flustered. However, she managed to snag a thought about halfway through the air that made her foot pause in its step.

-Yvonne is going to bring those bitch goddesses down for good.

Serena's eyes widened behind her thick plastic glasses, and her head whipped around, trying to locate the source of the thought. It was almost impossible, she was surrounded by telepaths, all of which could easily mask their thoughts from her. She growled under her breath, practically swimming through the throngs of dancing teenagers. She opened up her mental channels to pick up thoughts concerning the blonde Immortal as well.

-I'm so nervous, Yvonne's going to kill me-

-Yvonne est sinistre, Morgan est un espece de idiote especial.

Serena's felt her breath catch in her throat, that sounded…French. That sounded familiar. That sounded like-

"Zahi, I know you're a better dancer than this!" Came a very familiar pouting voice, and Serena swerved on her heel and her jaw dropped when she spied a dancing couple not a few feet from her.

Morgan was pressed against Zahi tightly, her movements slinky and slow as she seductively smiled up at the brunette. Zahi remained tight-faced, obviously uncomfortable, but he was dancing in step with her, his movements calculated and rigid as opposed to fluid and natural like Morgan's. He seemed out of place.

Not that Serena noticed any of that. She felt something heavy in her stomach as she watched the scene with barely repressed horror. If Zahi was here, with Morgan, then that meant that…

She felt almost sick with herself when she thought about how this could have possibly been her fault. Zahi had approached her a few times with nothing but friendly intentions, and she had shied away from him. Had he been calling out for help? Had her hesitance to get into a relationship, platonic or otherwise, with him driven him towards someone like Morgan? Was she to blame if he was a Follower again?

Steel flashed behind her self-guilt, and she tensed, walking forward. Personal grudges and reluctance be damned, she was a Daughter of the Moon and she was not going to let Morgan of all people take Zahi away from her.

She paused, blinking slowly. She was going to protect an innocent, that was all. She wasn't going to let a Follower take Zahi away from hope. She nodded inwardly, thinking that wording sounded better in her mind.

She was a few steps away when she felt a clammy hand lock around her wrist from behind. She whirled on her step and felt her jaw drop when she noticed who had grabbed her. "Karyl," she hissed hatefully.

He leered at her, snake like features being shadowed in the poor lighting, "Hey babe, what's a little goddess like you doing in a place like this?"

"Get the hell away from me."

"Angry tonight I see," he leaned forward, a wicked grin on his features, "I bet Yvonne would love to see you."

She panicked, and her gaze went from Karyl's face towards over to Zahi and Morgan. She felt her heart stop when she noticed that Zahi was looking back at her, a terror-stricken expression on his face.