The X-Club (A Krinar Story) by Dima Zales, Anna Zaires Read Free Book Online Page A

told Jay about her project yet, mostly because she didn’t want to appear foolish if she couldn’t come up with a good story. Jay didn’t get a lot of meaty assignments either, but he didn’t mind it as much as Amy. His goal in life was to enjoy himself, and everything else—his journalism career included—came second. He thought ambition was something that was only useful in moderation and didn’t apply himself more than necessary. “I just don’t want to be a total bum, for my parents, you know,” he’d explained to Amy once, and the statement perfectly summed up his approach to work.
    Amy, on the other hand, wanted more than to not be a bum. It bothered her that the editor had taken one look at her strawberry-blond hair and doll-like features and permanently slotted her into fluff-piece land. She would’ve thought Gable was sexist, except he did the same thing to Jay. Their editor didn’t discriminate against women; he just made assumptions about people’s capabilities based on their looks.
    Deciding to finally confide in her friend, Amy said, “No, not the puppy piece. I’ve actually been researching a project of my own.”
    Jay’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
    “Have you ever heard of x-clubs?” she asked, casting a quick look around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. Thankfully, the office was largely empty, except for an intern working on the other side of the floor. It was nearly four p.m. on a Friday, and most people had found an excuse to be out of the office this summer afternoon.
    Jay’s eyes widened. “X-clubs? As in xeno-clubs?”
    “Yes.” Amy’s pulse jumped in excitement. “Have you heard of them?”
    “Aren’t they the places those alien-crazy people go to hook up with Ks?”
    “Apparently.” Amy grinned at him. “I just learned about them today. Do you know anyone who’s been to one?”
    Jay frowned, an expression that looked out of place on his normally cheerful face. “No, not really. I mean, there’s always that friend of a friend of a friend, but no one I know personally.”
    Amy nodded. “Right. And you know half of Manhattan, so these clubs, if they exist, are a closely guarded secret. Can you imagine the story?” In her best broadcaster’s voice, she announced dramatically, “Alien clubs in the heart of New York City? The New York Herald brings you the latest in K news!”
    “Are you sure about this?” Her friend looked doubtful. “I’ve heard those clubs are near K Centers. Are you saying there are some in New York City?”
    “I think so. There’s some chatter online about a club in Manhattan. I want to find it and see what it’s all about.”
    “Amy . . . I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.” To her surprise, Jay appeared more disturbed than excited, his uncharacteristic frown deepening. “You don’t want to mess with the Ks.”
    “Nobody wants to mess with them—which is why we still know nothing about them.” Amy’s earlier frustration returned. It bothered her that everybody was still so intimated by the invaders. “All I want to do is write a factual article about them. Specifically about some places they allegedly frequent. Surely that’s allowed. We still have freedom of press in this country, don’t we?”
    “Maybe,” Jay said. “Or maybe not. Personally, I think they erase whatever information they don’t want to be public. Used to be, once it’s on the internet, it’s there forever, but not anymore.”
    “You think they might suppress my article somehow?” Amy asked worriedly, and Jay shrugged.
    “I have no idea,” he said, “but if I were you, I’d focus on the puppy piece and forget about the Ks.”
     
    * * *
     
    It was almost eight in the evening by the time Amy came across it: a mention of the x-club’s location on an obscure online sex forum. It was buried within someone’s lengthy—and rather improbable-sounding—account of his hook-up with a group of Ks. The feeling of ecstasy the man described