John motioned with his head toward a dark, isolated booth at the far end of the club. The heart of the party was pulsing in the centre of the place, leaving the shadows of the perimeter empty and neglected.
"What?" Luke exclaimed, his brow furrowing in doubt. He looked at John as if he were speaking a foreign language. But when he saw the dead-serious intensity in John's eyes, and watched as John simply stood up and began walking toward the shadows, he couldn't help but let out one more inward sigh and follow.
"What do you want?" Luke asked as he slid into the seat across from John.
John didn't answer with words. Instead, his eyes flicked toward the space on the seat right next to Luke's. The disgruntled heir, a boy who felt like a total failure in the eyes of his father and his family, followed the gaze.
There, sitting on the dark emptiness of the seat, was a small vial filled with a swirling, emerald-green liquid that seemed to possess its own internal light.
