The music pulses against her, obsessive, heady, insinuating itself under her skin, deeper than the ink of a tattoo. The bass hits her body in rhythmic waves, like an ocean crashing against a cliff. She feels as if her bones are trembling beneath her stiff muscles while her thoughts empty, focused solely on the waves passing through her. Her movements follow the secondary harmonies in an indulgence of soft, sensual, almost reptilian gestures. The light dances, caresses her skin, plays behind her closed eyelids. She is not just another person on the dance floor, she is the music, living each note, each beat, each vibration. And sometimes, a parasitic thought slips into her mind, and she finds herself wanting to plunge deeper into this trance, until she loses herself.


Selene smiles, opens her eyes, and pulls herself away from the sensations before they overwhelm her. In front of her, her best friend Stella returns her joyful expression. They attract attention but do not care. Their movements are perfectly synchronized, they seem connected by a spell. But those who know them understand it is simply a bond as strong as blood, without any magic needed.


As she clings to reality, her senses are once again torn, irritated. Her skin is slightly damp with sweat and her hair has stuck to her neck. The air pumped by the recyclers carries all sorts of scents, from cheap perfumes to the smell of perspiration, and the lights bouncing around the DJ make her squint intermittently. She wonders why she subjects herself to this. The melody changes, the rhythm slows gently, a wild smile spreads across Stella's lips, it's one of their favorite tracks. Yes, it's for these strangely pure moments that she's here, this moment where the music takes her completely, making her forget everything. She closes her eyes, lets herself be carried, expecting that click where her tormented senses quiet down to focus only on the vibrations.


But nothing happens. Something unexpected distracts her completely and focuses her perceptions elsewhere. Her nose is almost saturated by a delicious scent, a mix of spicy sandalwood, incense, and fresh, sparkling bergamot. A fragrance she has never smelled before. And its intensity is surprising, intoxicating. It's impossible to tell where the scent is coming from, the movements of the crowd and the breeze from the air recyclers seem to have diffused it all around her by chance. She lets herself be enveloped by the fragrant swirls that affect her senses as the music usually would. But at the same time, she feels something unusual awaken in her, a feeling so strange that she loses the rhythm and feels herself wobble.


Stella has stopped, visibly aware of her friend's discomfort, without making a fuss. She knows that sometimes Selene needs a break, and this is probably the right moment to take one. She takes her hand, places it in the crook of her arm, and together they weave through the crowd towards the bar.



***



He entered on a whim. The Temple was teeming with people, which he didn’t particularly enjoy. But he needed to lose himself in the multitude, in a crowd where no one would know him. He wanted to saturate his senses with noise, to flood his skin with perceptions, and to do so in the comfort of anonymity. The din of the bar turned nightclub echoed the tumult of his thoughts, and that was exactly what he needed. 


He wove through the moving mass that swayed to the heavy electronic music. He eventually let himself get carried away a little and closed his eyes, feeling the emotions of the people around him brushing against him without really touching him. It had been a long time since he allowed this to happen, since he took such risks. But tonight, he let go and felt the currents of emotions, of thoughts crashing against his skin, against his soul, and it strangely soothed his mind.


Suddenly, he froze. Amidst the waves of passions around him, he sensed something different, like a dissonance. No. It was like a burst of pure music in a cacophony, so crystal clear that it stood out and shone like a star. He opened his eyes and searched for that unique sound. And he forgot to breathe for a short moment.


There, coming towards him, two young women were approaching. One was clearly from Bharat, the other was the source of the distortion he felt. He couldn’t help but stare at her, praying, hoping she would look up and meet his gaze. She had long, soft black hair that brushed her round shoulders, her voluptuous curves barely revealed in her airy dress, cinched at the waist by a harness that highlighted her hourglass figure.


Did she feel the pressure of those dark eyes on her? She seemed to shiver and fixed her gray eyes on him. And it felt like a blow to the chest when their gazes locked for a few eternal seconds. Her eyes widened a little, and she quickly looked away, continuing on her path, passing close to the young man.


He watched her as she headed to the bar without looking back once. He sighed and slipped into the moving crowd, out of sight.


***


Sélène leaned against the bar, breathless, her head spinning a little. It made absolutely no sense. She now knew where the scent came from. But how was that possible? Was her sense of smell really that sensitive?


She discreetly glanced behind her; he was gone. Their eyes had met for a brief moment, his deep, dark eyes acting like magnets, his long white hair contrasting almost violently with those bottomless pits. But those few seconds were enough. She had felt a near-painful jolt to her heart, a tightness that almost suffocated her, and the sensation of something moving inside her returned, oppressive, like an inevitable landslide threatening to smother her. She had panicked, her throat tightening, with the confused feeling of losing all control. She had even thought she was going to faint, right there, for no reason. But the cold solidity of the bar under her fingers helped her regain her footing, and the waves of anxiety were already receding. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to Stella’s smiling face. Her friend hadn’t noticed anything. Or almost…


"Interesting character, huh?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"Oh, Sélène, really? Are you going to pretend you didn’t notice how that guy was devouring you with his eyes?"

"Alright, I saw him. So what?"

"So what? Did you see the guy? Darling, do me a favor, go find him, invite him to dance, and don’t come back to the coven tonight! You more than deserve to have some fun! And I’d love to see you come back tomorrow exhausted but with a smile plastered on your face."

"I’m not in the mood for that."

"Tsk, none of that with me, you’re going to change that attitude right now. You’ve earned the right to have fun and think only of yourself!"


Stella suddenly jumped, took out her Psyché from her pocket, and grumbled as she looked at the reflective surface. "Stay here, Maël is at the entrance and asking me to get him."


Sélène nodded and turned to the bartender to order. A few moments later, he returned with a stemmed glass containing absinthe, topped with a perforated spoon holding a sugar cube, and finally a carafe of water. Sélène slowly poured the water over the sugar, and the liquid clouded into lovely shades of pale green. She sighed in anticipation. Absinthe was the only thing that could dull her senses for an extended period.


She turned towards the dance floor to watch for Stella's return, her glass in hand, and found herself face to face with the stranger. He towered over her despite her high heels, his stature made even more impressive by his broad shoulders. Her breath caught in her throat, his scent was intoxicating. His dark eyes fell on her glass, and his eyebrows barely furrowed.


"I thought absinthe was prohibited for consumption, except by special permit..."

His voice was deep and rich, with a trace of a strange accent. His eyes left the glass to lock onto Sélène’s gray ones. She pressed her lips together and frowned. What business was it of his?


"Yes, it’s banned, except for those who are immune to its effects. Like me."

He tilted his head slightly to the side, and that indecently charming smile returned. He stepped a little closer. She held her breath.


Get a grip, Sélène, breathe, calm down…


"Surprising… But I should have guessed at first glance."

Sélène felt her heart race. There was something slightly animalistic about him, and she couldn’t determine if it scared her or if she liked it. But before she could untangle her emotions, a young man barely taller than her enthusiastically jumped into her arms. She didn’t have time to recognize Maël, who hugged her tightly, before the stranger with the dark eyes leaned in and whispered a "good evening…" in her ear before walking away. She felt her heart clench and frowned at the unexpected sensation.


Stella arrived just then, throwing an annoyed look at the young man hugging Sélène. "Maël! You idiot! You scared him away!"


Maël turned to face Stella, a beaming, innocent grin on his freckled lips, pushing back the rebellious locks of his red hair that fell insolently over his blue eyes. "Stella, my dear, I can chase everyone out of the Temple without a single regret..."


The two friends suddenly turned serious and looked at the young man. It was Sélène who broke the silence. "You met him, didn’t you? You saw Björn, right?"


Maël’s smile was answer enough, and Stella trembled slightly. "What did he say?"

"He agreed to listen to our demo."


Sélène clung to the bar, the relief so overwhelming that her legs nearly gave out. She burst into laughter despite the tears welling in her eyes. "Maël, you’re our leprechaun, you know that? You’re the only one who could manage it!"


The young man adjusted an imaginary tie with a smile, then became serious again. "Yes, well, that doesn’t mean the deal is done. He made it clear that he’s doing me a favor and we better not delay in sending our recordings. I would have done it right away, but you have our demos on your terminal, Sélène."

"Listen, it’s simple, I’ll go home immediately and take care of it."


Stella frowned and put on a mock-outraged look. "And there goes my plan to finally loosen up Sélène! My plans are ruined!"


Maël crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. "As if you wouldn’t have other opportunities to meddle in her private life..."

"True, but I’m not sure there will be any males as delightful as that specimen next time..."


Stella pointed her thumb towards the white-haired, dark-eyed young man who had just stopped at the bar nearby. He glanced their way, but quickly looked away when he saw Maël staring at him. "Quite a catch indeed. Stella, you should encourage her to pounce on everything that moves, especially when they move like that…"

"Yes, but it’s pointless if she seizes every opportunity to chicken out."

“She” is right here, listening to you, you know." Sélène raised an eyebrow. "And ‘she’ would like to deliver the demo to Björn first before dealing with her private and sexual life."

Stella muttered quickly, a smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, but your love life is way more exciting!"


Her friend playfully nudged her, and they both burst into laughter. Maël took out his Psyché and tapped on it for a few moments. "There, I’ve got his info. I’ll send it all to your Psyché, Sélène."


She suddenly paled, and Stella sighed. "Let me guess… You forgot your Psyché in your room again…"

"I completely forgot, I left in a rush and put it on the bed. But Sylve isn’t here tonight, she has a date with Loryan. So it should be fine."

"Unless they argue, and she comes back, and you know what happens when Sylve fights with her boyfriend."


Maël shook his head. "I never understood how those two stay together, they’re always arguing."

"Maybe it’s precisely because they fight that they last..."

"Possibly, yes. So, what do we do now?"


Sélène turned to the bartender and whispered a few words. He went to the back and returned shaking his head, handing her a stylus. She sighed and turned to her two friends. "I guess none of you have a plate?"


They both shook their heads apologetically. She shrugged, no choice then. "Maël, give me his info, and send it to my Psyché as well, better safe than sorry."

"Okay, let’s do this…"


She placed the stylus on the skin of her arm and grumbled under her breath, "What I wouldn’t do for the band, seriously…" At that moment, a hand extended in front of her, holding a blank plate. She looked up; it was the young man again, watching her with his dark eyes. He smiled. "It would be a shame to damage such pretty skin."


She blushed, took the plate, murmuring a "thank you," and he straightened up with a "you're welcome" before walking away. When she turned back, Stella and Maël exchanged a knowing look. Maël coughed theatrically: "If he has a brother, you’re to introduce me immediately, darling..."


Sélène pretended to hit him while laughing as he exaggeratedly dodged. "Alright, give me that info."


As Sélène walked towards the exit, Stella cast a glance at the strange young man who seemed to have taken a liking to her. But he hadn't moved from the bar. He followed her with his eyes for a moment, then turned back to the bartender to place an order. Her long, dark eyebrows twitched and furrowed slightly.


Strange... I could have sworn...


Maël sighed, cutting off her train of thought. "I feel guilty. I was so eager to share the good news with you all, I didn't want her to miss out on the evening."


Stella shifted her attention to Sélène, who was greeting someone before continuing towards the bar's entrance, and reassured Maël. "Don't worry, you just gave her a good excuse to slip away. I suspected she wouldn't stay long."


"Because of him?" He motioned towards the bar with his chin, and she didn't need to look to know who he meant.


"No, nothing to do with him. I had a feeling she wouldn't stay long tonight. I think her troubles at the academy are making her more sensitive than usual."


Maël fell silent and nodded. Stella turned her attention back to the entrance. She finally relaxed. Sélène had left the bar, and no one had followed her. She knew her friend was perfectly capable of defending herself, but she couldn't help but watch over her. She felt Maël get up and was about to look at him when something caught her attention.


He was tall, with long black hair draping his face. He had just entered, and even from a distance, she could see his eyes were very light. His broad shoulders strained against the black shirt he wore like a second skin. He seemed to be looking for someone, then his gaze locked onto her, and his eyebrows lifted briefly before his icy irises turned away. He slipped into the crowd, out of sight, but not without throwing her a quick glance. She smiled, stood up, and without a backward look, plunged into the shifting mass on the dance floor.


Maël watched her go, shaking his head. Someone wasn't going home tonight.


An hour later, Sélène pushed open the door to the coven, a house shared among vrăjitorus, where she lived largely thanks to Stella. The place, usually lively day and night, was quiet tonight, probably because the few tenants who lived there were still out.


She entered her room, located on the same floor as her friend's, and grabbed her psyché. The information had arrived on it, and she sighed with relief. Apparently, Sylve hadn't quarreled with Loryan today.


She took the plate out of her pocket, now unnecessary, but hesitated for a moment. She thought she could smell traces of his scent and brought it to her nose, before frowning and changing her mind. And just as she was about to erase it, she noticed something written on the back.


Just a name, Cendre, and a Psyché code.


She shook her head, placed the plate on her Psyché to record the new contact, and sighed, "So cliché."


Yet she couldn't help but smile as she sat down in front of her terminal.