Pan's Salvation by Shyla Colt Read Free Book Online

him. “Now what?”
    The waitress returned and set down two frosty green bottles.
    “Now, we drink.” He offered her a salute and tipped back the bottle.
    She watched him through narrowed eyes.
    Pan slammed the bottle on the bar. “Your turn.”
    Lark lifted the bottle to her lips and took a sip.
    “Good.” He remained quiet, allowing her to soak in the atmosphere as they drank their beer.
    College kids dominated the dance floor behind them. Locals sat on barstools and watched the display of youthful rebellion. He smirked. “I was like them once, out to have a good time and get drunk.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Hell yeah, wasn’t everyone who lives this close to the border?” He arched a brow. “What about you?”
    “Me?” She snickered. “I wasn’t.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I’m very careful about what I consume and how much. Addiction is a curse that
    poisons a bloodline. It lurks in your DNA, waiting to be activated by your object of ruin.” She swirled the bottle. Her face looked thoughtful while her eyes reflected a soul much older.
    “How old are you?”
    “Don’t you know? I mean I’m sure you’ve gone through all of my things.”
    “That’s not the point. I want you to tell me about yourself.”
    “Why are you still pretending any of this is normal?”
    “Would you rather we stay in the room, so you can eat up the carpet with your heels, wring your hands and torture yourself with an overactive imagination.”
    “And this is better? Playing dress up and sitting at a bar like we don’t have a care in the world?”
    He drained the rest of his beer in one gulp and gestured for another drink from the waitress.
    “You that worried about your age?”
    “Thirty-five.”
    “And what do you do for a living?”
    “What do you do?”
    “I work in a shop fixing motorcycles, rebuilding them from the ground up. You name it, I can do it.”
    She tilted her head. “I think there’s a lot more you have your hands into.”
    “What you don’t know can’t get you hurt.” He winked.
    “Point taken. I work in retail. I grab hold of whatever upper management job I can get, bust my ass, save my pennies and always leave in good standing.”
    “That what you wanted?”
    “That’s what I got.”
    “Not what I asked you.”
    Lark took a long swallow of her beer. “I thought we were supposed to be having fun?”
    “Touché.” The bartender returned with his beer to keep the demon at bay. The only thing he wanted to suck dry was her. He took a healthy swig and waited.
    “I like music. Every era, every genre. It fascinates me how people can tell a story so
    poignant you believe they must understand what you’re going through. When all else fails, music has been there to save my ass and keep me sane. I have a vast collection of vinyl records. To me, they always sound better. There’s a purity to them that’s been lost in the digital age.”
    The passion in her voice intrigued him. “So, why didn’t you do something with music?”
    “I tried for a while. I saved up, got some decent equipment and started Djing. I worked my way from the ground up. After a while, I made a little bit of a name for myself.” The happiness in her voice and the expression of pure bliss on her face changed her.
    “You loved it.”
    She laughed. “Yeah, I did. The money was shit, the hours were long and put me at odds with everyone else I knew, but…when I was up there watching everyone dance to the music I wove, it was fucking magic.”
    “So, what happened?”
    Her face clouded over. Her eyes went flat. “Robin. I was letting her stay with me for a while. She’d been clean for six months, got a job at a local dinner and damn, I was hopeful, you know? An old friend showed up at work, one thing led to another and she was off the wagon.
    Our hours were completely opposite, so I didn’t notice until I came home from working a shift at the boutique where I worked part time and found everything gone.”
    “What the fuck?”