Luna On The Run!

Still Luna Ariel’s POV

Clarita turns to me with a look as if she is asking for my permission to follow the man.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I nod and we walk behind Ivan to a door at the back of the building. A security guard is standing there, giving him a bro hug and holding the door open.

“Del … hmmm … Mr. Ivan, how nice of you to visit us again. It’s been a long time,” the guard exclaims, giving us a quick glance. “You’re here with the ladies. Have fun, my friend”. The door closes behind us with a loud bang. We walk down a corridor with colored spotlights until we reach a double glass door.

“Let’s go to my VIP lounge. You will have a good view from there and can sit comfortably until you decide to go out on the dance floor,” he offers. We smile gratefully and he leads us to a strategic corner where there is a soft couch and a tea table.

Once we are seated, a waiter walks up to us and we all order a drink.

“Do you come here often, Ivan? The workers seem to know you very well,” I start the conversation. The man’s face is tight, I think he is still offended that Clarita turned him down. At last, he looked straight at me, his eyes were on my friend all the time.

“Only when my work allows it. The restaurant is often very busy, the hotel is in an excellent location, so we have many guests,” he replies. Looking into his eyes, I see a hint of displeasure. I wonder why, it’s the first time this man has spoken to me directly, we don’t know each other.

Oooh well, maybe I’m wrong.

“Yes, and the service is good. The food was beyond expectations, by the way,” I complimented him.

“How long are you planning to stay?” I ponder my answer, my instincts warned me to keep him in the dark. “Well, as long as Miami has something to offer. We are on holiday and still have a lot of leisure time,” I tell him.

“Hmmm, well, welcome to Miami. We have a lot to offer. But I’m sure there’s no place like home. What city are you from, actually?” he asks, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“New York,” I say vaguely, “but Clarita is from here. And thanks for the welcome. At least you saved us from a long queue to get in. And here we are in a VIP lounge, no less.”

He chuckles, but before he can say anything, a man steps up. The men exchange a few words before Ivan turns back to me. “Excuse me, Miss Ariel, Clarita. I’ll be right back.” And a moment later he was gone.

I looked after him, there was definitely something going on with this Ivan. For a moment he seemed to have forgotten Clarita in our conversation. To think he had been courting her just seconds before. Besides, I can’t detect any scent on him, he doesn’t even smell like a human.

Why did he just call me Miss Ariel when he called Clarita by her name? Then again, I never told him my name. And didn’t the guard almost slip up when he mentioned Ivan?

Oooh well, I guess it’s all coincidence. He might have checked our names with the receptionist. When he saw no ring on Clarita’s finger, he must have thought she was a liar and checked the information she gave him.

‘I don’t trust that scum, Ariel,’ I hear Era say. ‘Keep an eye on him, girl.’

Clarita sits quietly next to me, listening to Ivan’s conversation. “Ariel, he’s a waiter. How can he afford a VIP lounge in an expensive place like this? Only the hotel manager could do that, but even on the company’s account,” she whispers to me. “I don’t trust him. We have to get out of his company. We don’t need him anymore”.

I scan our surroundings, and indeed, everything here screams luxury that only the rich can afford. A waiter’s salary is far too low to even buy an entrance ticket frequently.

“Let’s go to the dance floor and leave from there. We can always go to another club. Let’s not let some pimp spoil our night,” I whisper to her.

Ivan returns with the man in tow.

“Miss Ariel, Clarita, this is Roel. I thought he could keep us company, so we made two pairs,” he explains. “Is that all right with you?” he asks like a perfect gentleman.

“Of course. Hi, Roel. Nice of you to join us”, Clarita enthusiastically extends her hand to the newcomer, causing Ivan to frown. I smile secretly at her act of revenge on Ivan.

“Clarita and I are going to hit the dance floor and then come back for you,” I declare with a twinkle in my eye to the men. They seem to understand, probably assuming we are lesbians. I put an arm around my friend’s shoulder and pull her closer to me as we head for the dance floor.

Luckily she plays along. To avoid arousing their suspicions, I make sure not to dance out of the men’s line of sight. And yes, they are watching us as we swing to the popular Afrobeat. I see the men bowing to each other and whispering.

As the marked Luna of a powerful Alpha, mixed with the ancient bloodline of the Alpha King, my hearing is sharper than the average werewolf’s. I stretch it to the limit so that I can hear the whispering of the two men in the distance.

“We only need the Luna. What do we do with the other one, the human female?” questions Roel.

“We’ll just set her loose somewhere and fill her pockets with money she can’t explain. She’ll never go to the police. Then we’ll contact Zane, he’ll want to pay us a good price for his bitch. He knows we can sell her to the other Alpha,” Ivan replies. Gone is the gentleman.

I keep my face in the crease with all my might.

These are werewolves, they have managed to disguise their scent perfectly. That’s why I couldn’t smell anything with Ivan. And they work for Alpha Zane! I have to get out of here, no matter what.

“Clarita, the men are up to no good. We have to go now,” I say softly in her ear, my face is all smiles.

“OK, we dance a bit more to the middle of the floor, as the beat gets choppier. And then we’re off,” I nod and we move on, watching the men out of the corner of my eye.

And then their attention shifts as a waitress passes by.

I quickly pull Clarita with me and we squeeze through the noisy crowd until we reach the door. We shove the people roughly to the side as we make our way out of the club. A taxi just dropped off a group and we jumped in.

“To the bus station, quick,” I urge the driver, who doesn’t hesitate.

“Our stuff is still at the hotel. Our clothes…” Clarita protests weakly. All my personal belongings are in my bag. All that is left at the hotel are the purchases we made, and they are all replaceable.

“Leave them there. We’ll buy new ones,” I sigh.

And when we arrive at the terminal, we quickly buy a ticket for one of the big buses.

Half an hour later, we are on our way west, Arkansas is our new holiday destination..,