Imprint (a novel) Book One- The Jade Dragon

Incarnate

A line was forming outside the club Incarnate as the downtown district erupted with partygoers, taxis, chaos, and confusion. Rachel tried to keep her balance as she flitted about in a pair of high heels. It was the one aspect of her clothing she allowed her roommate to talk her into, but the skinny jeans and blouse where her idea entirely. Wearing short skirts and showing off every pound of flesh was not her idea of a good time or maintaining conversation beyond the club walls. All the same, she couldn't wait to get inside and sit down. She was starting to regret the club altogether.

Rachel tucked her purse in close under her arm as the line moved and the swell of people pushed forward. She tapped her foot on the sidewalk losing patience. "You know if you had been ready in time, then we wouldn't be standing here looking stupid right now."

"Shut up Ray. Damn it, I know it's in here I just have to find it." Martina fumed ignoring her best friend. She had one hand crammed inside her oversized purse, elbow deep, searching for something underneath generous pockets of neon lights from the club front exterior.

"I told you they'd check ID's Tina- we don't look that old yet it is a club after all. Why can't you keep your purse tidy and organized like every other red-blooded American woman?"

"Look I'm sorry," Martina shot back, "I didn't mean to make us late in getting here. You're just as guilty too when it took you forever to decide on what to wear- so do me a favor and relax. I'll find my ID and we'll get inside; your first drink's on me OK?"

Rachel muttered under her breath and Martina continued her frivolous search. Two bouncers were standing at the head of the line dressed in hand-tailored black suits, weighing in well over the two sixty mark, sporting black sunglasses. They kept a hefty presence more like the secret service than nightclub security.

"We'll be in there soon." Martina called out rather confidently from over her shoulder as Rachel looked back at the crowd. The line snaked clear past the edge of the building and around the corner, if they'd arrived any later, she'd have given up and called it a night on the spot saving them both the trouble. Going to trendy clubs was not her style she much preferred used books, late night movie rentals and cheap beer as opposed to overly expensive drinks and loud music. Clubbing was an expensive irritation she could do without.

She was being a good sport but couldn't dismiss the urge to just head back home, throw her efforts into her art, and put a much-needed distance from her first day at the Jade Dragon. The prospect of dancing, wafting cigarette smoke, and drinks overwhelmed her bookish senses and she was trying hard to go with the flow.

The line moved as two more people were allowed inside and the crowd rushed to fill the gap. Rachel steadied herself on her tall heels as the sudden movement threatened to shatter the illusion of her balance. Martina continued rummaging through her purse with more fury while Rachel openly gripped her ID with confidence. A group of three people edged toward the door, soon blocked and inspected by security.

"We really shouldn't have had to wait at all, didn't you say something about VIP passes or something like that back at the apartment?" Rachel muttered and Martina snorted in response.

"Found it!" Martina shouted while holding her ID up overhead like an old lady at Bingo. The bouncers waved ahead the trio and fell back into place to act as a wall between patrons and club ready for the next wave.

"ID sweetheart?" the larger of the two demanded.

Rachel strode forward to display her ID while Martina pushed her way toward his partner nearly shoving her card in his face. Both men waved their special flashlights over the cards surface and pulled them close toward the rim of their dark shades before letting them pass. Martina reached for Rachel's hand and dragged her headlong inside the mouth of the club. A wall of music surrounded them as they pushed their way inside, crashing into wayward sweaty bodies, and shuffling feet, deeper into the cramped space. The pounding of trebled bass filled the air along with the dizzying swirl of cigarette smoke pouring out from the cocktail bar. There was an upstairs area that framed the club in a tight L shape and three separate metal staircases that led to each landing. There were two bars stationed along the clubs wall space both packed to capacity. Toward the center of the club was a large stage complete with a spinning disco ball, and two DJ's spinning records at abandon.