Soul exchange

Four ~ I didn't even get his name

Nyx stared at the words on her mobile, teasing her and bringing back long-buried memories. Micah.

"Here, babe," Selene shouted in Nyx's ear, startling her hard enough to drop her phone on the club's concrete floors.

"Goddamnit!"

"Sorry, hun. Here, take your damn drink before I spill it!"

Nyx grabbed the fluorescent concoction and downed half before bending to pick up her fallen companion. It tasted like rocket fuel and burned like a bitch. A surge of bodies appeared from nowhere, and a rogue limb sent her cellphone flying into the dancing crowd. "Oh, goddammit!"

She finished the drink, slammed the glass on the table and went hunting, leaving her friend wide-eyed at the counter. No doubt, the strength of the alcohol and Nyx's apparent numbness to it had her reeling.

"Where are you," Nyx whispered as she pushed through the crowd attempting to stare past everyone's legs. Her heart raced, and her palms practically dripped.

He did promise to message me, but that was years ago. So how the hell does he even remember me?

Hot bodies writhed and gyrated around her, and she kept her bare palms tucked under her opposite armpits to stop unwanted soul reads.

Nyx almost gave up when she spotted her daisy phone case between a ridiculously long pair of toned legs.

"Excuse me!" She tried to call as she ducked down and swiped the device off the floor. Her relief surged until she flipped it and saw a dozen cracks across the screen. "Shit! This is not my night!" The power button did nothing, and she realised her trusty Samsung had officially died.

Nyx went to turn and escape the swarm when she slammed into the chest of a giant. Her hands gripped his black shirt, resting on his defined pecks, while his warm hands grasped her shoulders, pulling her upright and steadying her.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" she shouted, but when her eyes peered upward, his face made the rest of her words die in her throat. 

He was hauntingly beautiful. Dark features, carved with sharp edges. His hair was tied in a messy topknot revealing an intricately shaven undercut that Nyx could only see half off. The patterns were vaguely familiar, but his piercing gaze captured her before she could ponder further.

The man lowered his mouth beside her ear, and her stomach flipped. "You should probably look where you're going."

Nyx pulled back and shook her shoulders from his grip. "I plan to," she shot back before turning and walking toward what she hoped was the bar. Unfortunately, she was much shorter than most patrons and found it impossible to see anything past their moving bodies. 

A cold, wandering hand gripped her waist painfully before sliding down her hip. Its intended path was evident, and she whipped around to gouge the person's eyes out when the sensation jerked away. 

The dark-haired man reappeared behind her, facing the groper, who scrambled on the concrete floors. A few other club goer's kicked at his winded form, and Nyx felt a growing sense of retribution. She knew it was cruel, but seeing the guy get his karma felt good. 

She could see his markings clearer from her position. They looked like runes she saw in one of her Witchcraft books. After years of honing her 'skill' but being unable to tell anyone, she searched many places to find others like her with no luck. 

Finally, Nyx's gaze wandered back to the wannabe assaulter straight past the gorgeous man's ass. I'm not a hypocrite. No sneaky peeks.  Blood poured from his nose, and significant swelling appeared around his eyes. Giddiness washed over her, followed by shame.