Welcome one, Welcome all, to The second 'book' of the NewU series.
This is the latest in an ongoing series, I recommend starting at chapter 1 if you want the story to make even the slightest amount of sense.
A huge thanks to my editors who have made this story what it is. Kiwi, Ben, SP, and the ever-present Sophie and Freya, you are awesome. As I have said before, this second part of the story will be taking a much darker, more narrative-focused direction from here on out. There will still be some erotic scenes, but they will come when the story allows. Pete has discovered his powers, he had had his fun. Now it's time to deal with the consequences.
As always, all characters in this story are over 18 and the characters and events in this story are purely the work of fiction, any likeness to real persons or events is purely coincidental and - frankly - hilarious.
Now, on with the show
Nova
********
I rolled my neck and looked at the non-descript, single-story prefab building in front of me. Despite feeling a few pops running through the top of my spine, the neck rolling hadn't seemed to help, so I did it again.
It persisted in its unhelpfulness.
I'm not sure why I had expected something a little more auspicious for the meeting place of the local Conclave members, but the working-mans club in a suburb on the opposite side of the city was not what I had been picturing when I had been invited. I had expected a fancy club or an upscale bar of some downtown hotel. Hell, a stately home wouldn't have surprised me. The conclave was an ancient, proud, vaulted institution, after all, at least as Charlotte and Marco had described them. But No... Working-mans club.
I suppose it made sense. If this was an organization trying to stay below the radar of the Inquisitors, then low-key was certainly the way to go. But Jesus, any more low-key than this would have been off the piano.
For those of you who don't know what a working-mans club is, let me explain. During the 19th century, at the height of the industrial revolution, entire towns were founded on the backs of the major local industry. Hell, some of the richest towns on the planet back then could be found not far from where I was standing. For the part of the country I lived in, that had been coal, iron, and steel, and these workplaces gave jobs to thousands of the local population. But it wasn't
only
these industries that employed a lot of people. The products made or mined were transported by rail to the coast, where they were loaded onto docks and shipped all over the world. That meant a hell of a lot of miners, mill workers, railroad workers, dock workers, laborers, journeymen, Sailors, and a whole host of other professions were employed in a very small geographical area. Not to mention all the
other
industries that would normally be represented in any flourishing town or city.
These men needed a place to drink. Hence, the working-mans club was born.
Savvy local businessmen, or sometimes even the mine owners themselves, would throw up prefabricated concrete and brick box-shaped buildings with about as much character as a wet mop, throw in a bar, a fire exit, plenty of seating and some toilets, and there you have it. One ready-to-go working-man's club.
The concept was simple. No wives, no children, cheap alcohol, and all it took to get through the door was to flash your work ID. It was a good concept, and the clubs flourished as long as the towns did... and then, of course, they didn't. As the mines closed and the mills shut down, the railroads rusted, and the ships sailed to other docks, the clubs started to close down. Whereas there used to be a handful in every town, now there was usually just one. Often just one between a few towns. Of course, they relaxed their entry policies, and now anyone could get in, but the beer was still pretty cheap, and they were usually more than happy to hire out their bar for functions like this one.
I'm not afraid to admit I was more than a little nervous to step through the old wooden doors.
A week had passed since the weekend of sex, sex, some karaoke, and some more sex, and life had, more or less, returned to normal. I had exchanged messages with Becky, Philippa, Olivia, and even a few with Evie. There was even a very short-lived, probably drunken exchange with one of Olivia's friends - although I wasn't sure which one - which basically consisted of her expressing her hope that Livvy hadn't been teasing when she said she didn't mind sharing. I may have switched my powers off to Olivia, but the rest of the group had been getting the full dose; this one was just more forward than the others. Whereas most of my time was, as per normal, spent in my bunker working on my project, a great deal of it had been spent with Charlotte.
I had shared with her every single detail of my time with Marco. Some things had surprised her, and other things had made her scoff in disgust, but the offer for me to attend one of these gatherings had blown her mind. A key detail that Marco seemed to have left out of his invitation was that invites were rarely, if ever, given to people who hadn't already been welcomed into the Conclave. Even then, the initiates that were invited were known by almost everyone by the time they made it onto the guestlist.
"Just..." she had said with a hint of caution after I had shared everything with her, "...pay attention to your own intuit... no, wait, pay attention to Jeeves," she had finally finished, only to continue again after the quizzical look I had given her. "Everyone, human or Evo, has that
sixth sense
. Have you ever gotten the feeling you are being watched or followed? It's that, but in us, it's more heightened. People will try to look at your mind, most of them won't be able to help it. But if some of them get too pushy, or if anyone tries to intentionally test your defenses, don't question it, don't doubt it, let Jeeves point out the issue and confront it... loudly and publicly. That kind of behavior is a big no-no at these gatherings. If you make a scene, people will help."
"And if they don't?" I had been less than convinced.
"Then leave," She shrugged. "It's not like they can stop you. And good luck to them if they tried," The look on my face must have said more than my words were able to. "Alright, listen. There are one or two there who I would consider to be pretty powerful, but even compared to them, you are like Superman. Marco would be one of the more powerful there, and you know how strong you are compared to him. They will all be able to feel how powerful
you