*CHAPTER 53*

*CHAPTER 53*
By the time the time the doctor gave me the all clear to go home, I was so restless I was practically clawing at the walls like a caged animal. Thanks to Jenna's herb filled pill capsules, I was beginning to feel better I was feeling better much faster than had been expected, no longer needing the heavy duty pain medications I'd been on, with just a large dose of ibuprofen and Tylenol, most of the aches were gone. The second the needles were out of my arms, I was in the shower, scrubbing days of grime and sweat off of me.

It was as difficult to shower one-handed as it sounded. With my cast clad wrist wrapped in layers of plastic to keep it safe in water, the nurse had instructed me to keep it out of the direct stream of water as much as possible. It wasn't easy lathering soap and shampoo over myself, but the simple feeling of the water washing away days of grime and the smell of smoke that had lingered on my skin was worth any amount of trouble it took in the process.

Even after a few washes with the lavender body wash Jenna had brought to the hospital, I felt like there was an underlying hospital smell that clung to my skin. I let the water get as hot as the hospital shower allowed, combing all the knots out of my hair while the conditioner sat. The hot water washed away the remnants of stress and anxiety until I was relatively calm for the first time in days. Exiting the bathroom, with hair smooth and clean, face washed, and in fresh clothes, I felt like a new person.

Caleb had swung by while I was in the shower to drop off t-shirts for us with his new band logo on it. Malcolm had changed into his while I was in the shower. I paired mine with the only set of pants I had with me—a pair of black jeans. I wasn't exactly dressed for a night out at the club, but it was much better than the hospital gown I'd been wearing. He was dressed similarly to me, wearing one of the shirts Caleb had left and jeans.

I put on the little make up I had with me brought by Lauren when she stopped by on her lunch break.

A person who was tired of staring at the same four walls for days on end.

Malcolm was as restless as I was.

I chewed on my bottom lip, watching the clock. I was starting to worry that the hospital wouldn't release me in time and I'd be left here by myself.

Somehow were checked out in time, by the nurse came in to give us the green light to leave, we were bickering just for something to do.

"Relax," Malcolm muttered for the fifth time as we navigated our way through the thickening crowd.

"That's for you to say," I muttered anxiously, "you're not going to get kicked out for being underage."

Nightshade was in a part of the city I'd never been particularly anxious to go to. The crowd was surprisingly younger, a lot of college aged students lining the streets waiting for the bouncer to let them through the velvet roped off stone doorway.

The alleyway was smoky—the night's air a little more humid than usual, that combined with my mounting anxiety had a few droplets of sweat prickling on my forehead.

"Caleb left passes for us," Malcolm reminded me, with a roll of his eyes, "we're not going to get kicked out."

'Worst case we'll just sneak in through a back window.'

I'd never been much of a rule breaker, and the idea of doing so now left me feeling twitchy. My eyes wanted to bulge out of my skull at the idea of sneaking around a place like this. Luckily it wasn't necessary. Caleb having left our name at the entrance, the oversize bouncer let us through with narrowed, appraising look. He didn't even ask for I.D.s.

He unhooked the rope for us with a meaty hand, waving us through.

Malcolm flashed him a haughty smile as he passed that had the bouncer's eyes narrowing further.

I elbowed him in the side, and he huffed out a grunt, the annoying smirk disappearing from his face still firmly in place as he swaggered his way through the doorway, leading the way into Nightshade.

The entrance led to a darkened doorway, with a narrow set of stairs leading down into a dimly lit space. I only wobbled a little on my way down, heart rate picking up at the thundering beat of bass vibrated through the wood steps and into my bones.

A deep burgundy velvet curtain sectioned off the floor to the club and stepping through was like stepping into another world entirely.

It felt like a dreamscape—thick green and cold carpets along the far side of the room gave the illusion of grass and amber and violet colored walls painted to resemble sunset skies. The left side of the room was done up in shades of blacks and navy, white sparkling floors embedded in some sort sparkling stone, shone under the undulating and rapidly changing overhead lights like stars. Crowds of people danced under the neon lights, making writhing shapes in the dim light. A stream of fog bubbling from a hidden machine only added to the illusion of a dream.

The small stage making up the back of the room was closed off with black curtains, music coming from a small DJ booth decked out to look like a cage. The counter of a bar was located directly behind us, crowded with rows of people in skin tight multi-colored outfits asking for neon liquids in tall flutes.

What caught my eye though, was the symbol lit up behind the bar.