"Together in life, now, they continue their love together in death."

The sound of the minister's words landed with the same impact as the heavy rain pelting the glossy brown caskets, only to spatter into smaller droplets, then run in rivulets off the sides to the dark soil below. The too-bright fake green turf surrounded the empty holes, hid the gaping earthen wound, and covered the mounds of dirt waiting to cascade onto my parents, locking them forever within the cold, wet ground.

A shiver crawled up my spine, and I huddled deeper into the long black jacket borrowed from my mother's closet. Not that she'd need it again. She wouldn't even know I'd taken it. Or that I'd gotten mud on her black patent heels. Ruined them, most likely. Why had I been stupid enough to wear heels to the cemetery? She'd have been furious with me. I could almost hear her voice, that tone of disappointment that never failed to have me lowering my head in shame, curling in on myself, and vowing to do better.

Her small smile.

That little shake of her head when she'd hug me and tell me she knew I would.

Another tear slipped down my cheek, joining the rain trickling from my hair, sliding into the collar of my jacket, and soaking my thin blouse and skirt. I'd tried to find my dad's umbrella, the big black one with the oak handle. But it wasn't in his closet or the hall closet. He'd probably had it with them in the car when they-

I swallowed, trying to not picture it, trying to not imagine the sudden bright lights in the night, the screech of brakes on a rain-slick road, the screams, panic, and rending of metal and fragile flesh. God, I hoped it was quick. That they didn't linger. The policeman said they were dead when help arrived. I hoped that meant quick. I couldn't stand the idea that they'd suffered.

The words stopped, yet the rain continued its rapid tattoo, intensifying, a blurring grey sheet pouring from the heavy sky. A few pats on my shoulder, a murmured word from the minister, and in minutes, only I stood there with the man lowering the coffins into the graves.

Once finished, he spoke, but the words didn't register. The fake grass was removed. Sodden earth was poured into each grave by the little bobcat until the holes disappeared, again level with the surrounding grass. Then even the sound of the bobcat disappeared. The rain slowed to a drizzle. To an occasional drop. The clouds lifted slightly, just enough to bring Seattle's skyline into view.

Drenched to the skin, shivering, fingers and toes numb despite the warm mid-June temperature, I slowly shuffled away from my parents, my soul cracking as mobility returned to frozen muscles and joints. They'd never leave here, and I wasn't sure my heart wasn't buried along with them.

Numb inside and out, I went through the motions of walking to the bus stop, waiting for the correct bus to arrive, and riding it to East Adler Street, two blocks from the three-storey Victorian that was my childhood home. I trudged up the steps of the front porch, avoiding the weak spot on the third tread, and pulled open the screen door to unlock the deadbolt.

Keys. Where are my keys? I patted my pockets, then recalled the purse hanging off my shoulder. With questing fingertips, I dug through tissues, past my wallet, around stray receipts, and located the metallic ring at the bottom. After dragging them out, I fumbled to unlock the door. The keys fell from nerveless fingers with a clatter as they hit the wood decking. I sighed, reached for them, and my purse fell off my shoulder to whack me on the head and thump into the door.

My knees collapsed, and I sat on the peeling paint of the porch, clutching the keys as another wave of tears blurred my vision. Sobbing, I rocked myself, unable to understand how my world had disintegrated so damn fast.

There was nothing left. Just me. Oh god. How? How could they be gone? How could they leave me alone?

When the storm of grief relaxed its violent grip, I forced myself up, unlocked the door, and stood inside. Still sodden, the long jacket refused to release my arms easily, but I pried myself loose and hung it to drip on the coat rack. The mud-caked heels were kicked off as well, and a wet trail followed me up the creaking wooden stairs to the second story and my bathroom. As I stripped off my clothes, I turned on the water, listening to the pipes clanking in the walls. Steam filled the room after a few minutes.

With more haste than coordination, I stepped into the shower and shivered as the heat washed over me. So cold. Every part of me felt frozen. The hot water almost hurt, like prickles on my skin. Even so, it reminded me I still lived. I scrubbed my light brown skin until it reddened, the burn of sensation boosting my energy enough to shampoo and condition the dark, waist-length silken mass of my hair. The water cooled to lukewarm by the time I finished, ending any thought of lingering. I slapped off the taps.

The cooler bathroom air and deep chill still inside had me moving smartly to dry my skin and hair. My sodden clothes gathered in my arms, I dumped the wet mass into a hamper and opened my closet. Although a little threadbare, I pulled my housecoat from its hanger and wrapped it around me.

With the hamper propped on a hip, I made my way downstairs, through the kitchen, and into the laundry room. Only to be confronted with the stack of Dad's shirts on the dryer, neatly folded by Mom. The stabbing pain had me clutching my chest, and I dropped the hamper. Whimpers escaped my lips as I backed out of the room.

I couldn't face that, not yet.

In the kitchen, I put the kettle on for tea. My hands shook. The house was so quiet. Too quiet. Empty. Never had I so wished for a sibling, an aunt, an uncle, cousins, or even grandparents. But my parents had been only children, their parents gone before I was born. I was the last of my family. And god, it sucked.

If I ever had kids, I wanted a bunch. Not one. Okay, maybe not a bunch, but more than two. Five? How many could fit in one of those family van things? Seven? Yes, five kids plus my husband and me. If I ever found a man worth marrying. Since moving back home earlier this year, my love life was non-existent.

Progressing rapidly from a raspy whisper to an ear-splitting shriek, the kettle broke the silence, and I flipped off the gas burner. It took both hands to pour the steaming water into my tall, blue mug, watching the clear liquid hit the tea bag. The scent of bergamot filled the air, and I breathed deeply, carrying it to the table.

With my fingers wrapped around the mug, I sat, my knees drawn up. The table was scattered with bills, a copy of my parents' will the lawyer had read this morning, a couple of sympathy cards from two friends back in New York, and the coin dish still full from the last time Dad had emptied his pockets. A corner of a black envelope peaked out from under the stack of bills and between pages of the will. Part of a silver symbol on it had me frowning. Something about it was familiar.

Reaching over, I tugged the envelope out and looked at the twin silver lizards-or perhaps those were wyvern or some other serpentine dragon-crawling down the two sides and along the bottom to meet with a circular symbol. I'd definitely seen it before, but where? As I turned the envelope, a shimmer had me tilting it to see the embossed words "CLUB ILLUSION" across the centre. I'd heard of the nightclub. I mean, who hadn't? It was a playground for the wealthy and beautiful, only a few blocks from Pike Place Market.

Not someplace I'd ever been. Nor could I imagine my parents going there.

I flipped the envelope over and opened it. My eyes widened. A gift certificate for one hundred dollars. That would be enough for the cover charge and drinks. But it would expire on June sixteenth, four days from now, and the club was closed Sundays through Tuesdays. I had tonight or tomorrow to use it... if I wanted to.

Did I want to? Even with the hot shower and the tea, I was still chilled. I could climb into bed early and try to forget this shitty day. No one would care. There wasn't anyone to say I couldn't. No one who'd check up on me if I went to bed and stayed there. No job, no boss. No childhood friends still living in the area. And I hadn't exactly been sociable since moving back home four months ago.

But I'd always wanted to check out that club. Getting in was almost impossible, but the envelope included a VIP pass. I wouldn't have to stand in line. Where did my parents get it? It had to have been a gift, although whomever had given it hadn't known my parents at all. At fifty-seven and sixty-three, my mom and dad hadn't been old, but certainly weren't much for the club scene. Not that we had that kind of money, anyway.

Still, if I wanted to, this was my chance. I'd never be able to afford it otherwise. And I could people-watch, even if I didn't know a single soul. It might be nice to lose myself in a crowd tonight.

Although... what did I have to wear to a place like that? Maybe I should just forget it and go to bed.

I turned the envelope over in my fingers, trying to decide.

"Ugh! Fine, let fate decide." Snatching a coin out of Dad's dish, I flipped it in the air, then smacked it down on the table under my fingers. "Okay, heads, I go upstairs, forget this foolishness, and go to bed. Tails, I haul my ass out of this chair, put on some nice clothes, and go watch the lives of the rich and famous."

My pulse pounded as I slowly lifted my fingers.

Tails.

I blew out a breath. "Well, okay then. Get off your ass, Anna, and let's go make ourselves pretty."

After taking a fortifying gulp of tea, I stood and walked upstairs. I opened my closet doors and shifted the hangers to examine the dress clothes I hadn't worn since last New Year's Eve in New York. When my future still looked bright and before the damned environmental consulting company declared bankruptcy. Two dresses stared back at me, mocking my past happiness. 

My gut rebelled at the sequins. Not today, not after burying my parents.

Decision made, I pulled out the other dress, an ankle-length black sleeveless sheath. I stripped off my housecoat and stepped into the dress, tugging it up my hips. With one slit up my right thigh, it fit snugly. Moreso once I slipped the spaghetti straps over my shoulders and zipped up the back. With the cowl neckline and built-in bra, I didn't need additional support, even with my ample chest. Although, the tight fit and thin fabric also meant regular panties were out. Instead, I dug through my underwear drawer to find a dark thong.

At least I'd dried my hair earlier. It took little time to add a bit of keratin smoothing oil to keep my hair from turning frizzy in the humidity, create smoky eyes, and add a bit of lip gloss. Silver earrings, necklace, and bracelets completed the look. Silver clutch, wrap, and stiletto heels in hand, I returned downstairs to gather the envelope, my cell, wallet, and keys.

I paused at the front door after putting on my shoes and wrap.

Am I really going to do this?

Straightening my shoulders, I yanked open the door. "Hell yes, I am."

I locked the deadbolt and checked my phone. The bus was due to arrive in a few minutes. I had just enough time to walk the couple of blocks, even in my heels. Sure enough, the number fourteen bus to downtown arrived two minutes after I did. A man at the back wolf-whistled when I got on. Wrapping my arms around my body, I sat up near the driver.

My feet tapped the floor during the fifteen-minute ride. The silver clutch was slightly damp, my palms sweating, and I discretely dried my hands on my wrap. Excited, but nervous, I couldn't decide if this was bold or the most ridiculous idea I'd had in months.

Finally, we arrived at my stop and I got off, my knees only slightly unsteady. The earlier rain was a memory as the last of the sun's rays faded below the horizon. A week and a half to the summer solstice, it was already a quarter to ten, with long days and short nights ahead. The club had opened almost two hours ago, and when I rounded the corner to the front entrance, the line extended around the block.

But I didn't have to wait. Biting my lip, I took out the VIP pass and held it out to the bouncer. The burly male looked it over, smiled, and opened the rope to let me through.

"Have a good evening, miss."

My pulse leapt. Wow, no cover charge? "Thank you," I murmured, eagerly moving through the dark entranceway. I passed the coat check and entered the main level. The beat of latin dance music thumped in my chest. Blue, silver, and purple lights strobed on and off, and the scent of smoke, weed, spilled drinks, and hot bodies filled the humid air. On my right, a long bar ran the room's length. The dance floor, packed with couples swaying to the salsa rhythm, was straight ahead, and to my left were electric blue booths and shiny silver tables. Transparent stairs led up to two more levels, partially overlooking the main dance floor, but each had their own dance floors as well.

Time to see exactly how VIP this ticket is. I worked my way through the crowd to show it to a bouncer at the base of the stairs. He opened the rope and let me through, but I turned back before I'd gone more than a step.

"Which level is this ticket good for?"

He smiled, his gaze flicking over me. "First time, then? The top. It's worth a fortune. There are tables, booths, two bars, and a dance floor up there. Enjoy your evening, miss."

My mouth dropped open, and I quickly turned, trying to recover as I climbed the stairs. God, I hope I didn't look like a complete idiot. Where on earth did my parents get this? After passing another bouncer, I reached the top. Not as packed as the lower two levels, still, there was quite the crowd. I'd no sooner settled at a glass high-top table than a server was there, asking what she could get me.

"Do you have spicy pineapple martinis?"

"Sure do. Would you like to set up a tab?" the woman asked, pushing her blond hair back over her shoulder.

I handed her the gift certificate, tucking the VIP pass and envelope into my clutch. "Yes, please. I assume this is acceptable?"

She looked at it and gave me a quick smile. "Certainly. I'll be right back with your drink."

True to her word, I'd barely perused even a quarter of this level before she was back, placing the golden nectar on my table. She left again just as quickly, and I took my first sip. A nice bite and hint of heat, but not overpowering. It was perfect.

As I raised my glass for a second sip, my eyes continued scanning the upper floor. At least, until the jolt of awareness hit, impacting with the breath-stealing lightning of an electric fence. Skin tingling and hair rising at my nape, the surrounding sounds faded. Every thunderous beat of my heart drummed in my ears, until that too slowed and froze. The flashing lights and encompassing frenetic activity of the massive nightclub tunneled, narrowing to a single focus.

A single table.

And the dark, magnetic eyes of the well-dressed, stunning man who'd ensnared my gaze.