A simple dare...What could go wrong?

Liora's pov

The dress I had on was tight, too tight. And the heels, it felt like I was walking on wooden straws.

"It's not a sin to do your part before midnight." Mara teased with her high-pitched giggle.

I shook my head, second-guessing my choice of coming here.

"Keep up, it's just by this corner," Mara whispered, strutting her stuff in her spaghetti-strapped dress. Confidently, while I struggled with my outfit.

I was supposed to be at the convent, praying amongst the other nuns, holding Mother Superior's hand as we led the young ones in prayer rites. But here I was, against my better judgment, sneaking out to a nightclub, to fulfill my friend's unorthodox dare.

~

The music was loud, foreign to my ears.

"At least the lights are pretty." She commented, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.

I stepped closer to her, feeling highly uncomfortable.

"I really hope that the spirit leads me to someone quickly, so I can win over a soul and get back before the midnight prayers are concluded."

"I know Li, but....you don't have to be such a buzz kill because you want to get your dare over and done with."

"But I do." I smacked my lips nervously against each other. Mara shot me one of her signature looks. The typical, 'Are you kidding me?' pose.

"No Mara, I kid you not. I don't like it here."

It reeked of three things, three things people like me pray against daily.

Immortality,

Liquor,

And more immortality.

"Just look," I whispered to Mara, clutching my crucifix as I pointed to a group of men swaying around and grinding back on women.

"What did you expect?" Her brow arched, "A group of aged people sitting around and knitting yarns?"

"No..... not at all, but aren't they bothered, doing all this?"

No, they weren't, I realized.

That was how sour the world had turned. I could even bet that some of these girls are under the legal age accepted for clubbing.

"Judge not sister Liora, so that thou mayest not be judged. And that's the bible."

I laughed, forgetting for a moment that all I could smell was pungent liquor and fluids.

"You only quote it when it favours you, Mara."

She lifted her hands in surrender.

"Promise not to go back on our agreement, if I manage to convert the first non-religious person that buys me a drink, you will come to church? Kapeesh?"

She crossed her heart.

Lord.....the things we did to salvage the souls of our loved ones.

I tucked my crucifix into my neckline and tussled my hair, following her lead to the bar area.

We sat there for a while and talked, under hushed whispers as Mara tried to....flirt with the bartender. A tan-skinned Puerto Rican who gave her responses just as flirtatiously.

"Gin or skull-numb wine for the lady?" He gestured to me.

I stilled, looking to Mara for support, I didn't know what to say.....what in the cherubim was skull-numb wine?.

"She'll have uh...." Mara was interrupted by a ring from her cellphone. She leaned towards the bartender and kissed his cheek whispering something yet again flirtatious to his hearing.

"I'll be right back Liora, it's Mr Vikram again."

Mr Vikram was Mara's boss. I nodded, and she strutted out, leaving me anxiously tapping the table. Waiting for someone to approach me, and apparently, I caught attention fast.

About three to five minutes passed when two men staggered over. By this time, the bartender had excused himself from his station, and I was just sitting still, trying to ignore the stares of onlookers.

That’s when the two men swaggered towards me, reeking of liquor and false confidence. One leaned on the bar beside me, elbow practically by my arm.

"Damn. Didn’t think angels drank alone."

The other one laughed behind him. "Or maybe she is waiting for company for the night."

I blinked slowly. "Maybe I am just here to talk about repentance if you buy me a drink. How about we discuss your eternal future?"

The second one smirked. "Oh, I can repent on top of you, if that's how you do it."

"No, if that's what you want then I'll have to politely refuse," I said.

But they didn't go away like I'd assumed. One grabbed the back of my chair, the other swore and shoved him.

"She is mine, you're burly drunk."

"I saw her first, so piss the fuck off!"

They were loud and messy, spurring on commotion. One swung his fist. A glass cup shattered behind me. And then,

Pain cracked through my ribs as I got thrown sideways, hitting the edge of the bar. My head spun. Someone shouted. Someone else cursed. One of them raised a hand at me, holding a shard of broken glass, his fist seconds away from my face.

All I could do was hold my crucifix and say a quick prayer as my entire life flashed in front of my eyes.

But the hit never came,

All I felt was a hand on my shoulder pulling me away from the line of impact.

I crashed into a stranger's chest, I didn't look at him, not at first, till my eyes widened at how broad his chest was and how tall he was. My eyes trailed upwards.

I wasn't short myself, but lord, did he look like an instrument of sin and restitution. He didn't speak, he just snapped his fingers in the air, a gesture that made the bouncers come in to tackle the ruckus immediately.

"Come with me." He murmured as he pulled on my wrist, lightly, leading me to a quieter almost hidden section of the club.

"I saw you walk in with someone. Where is she?"

Oh...I rerouted my mind back to able comprehension. I had never seen so many tattoos on a man. They weren't compact, but sparse. In a way, I imagined them to be colourful vines of fire and roses that curled around his big, broad frame. He had to be about six feet six or six feet seven. Yeah, had to be.

"She stepped outside to take a work call."

"And you sat there, like a deer open and vulnerable in the spotlight?"

His eyes trailed to my lips, then to my partially hidden crucifix.

He was my ticket out of here, he had the aura of an unbeliever. Probably, atheist or unreligious. I cleared my throat and met his dark forest-green eyes.

"Sir?" I said boldly, straightening my posture, "Do you mind buying me a drink?"