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and let us pass. We walked down a long, dark hall, and with every step we took, a beat that shook my insides grew heavier. I couldn’t make out the music or if it was coming from above or below us, but when it started shaking the hallway walls, I knew Alex was right. It was going to be loud.
    Finally, the hall ended at a row of elevators that looked somehow even older than the building. I followed Alex into the only one available—I wasn’t sure if that was because the half dozen others were in use or because they were busted—and once I’d closed the metal screen door, Alex punched the B on the panel and the elevator jerked into motion.
    “Hang on, Cowboy. We’re not in Montana anymore.”
    Yep. Wherever we were, Montana felt like it was on the opposite side of the world.
    The elevator screeched and jolted down for a couple more minutes. The music droned louder, and the air got heavier. Everything said that club was a place to run from, not run to, yet I was smiling. I was getting closer to Rowen. When the elevator jerked to a stop, Alex threw open the metal door, and I got a good look at the Underground. I realized that would be one of those times when I had to walk through hell to get to heaven.
    “This is the place,” Alex shouted above music blasting to the point I half-expected to see blood trickling from people’s ears. I gave her a curious look. “Where the rabbit hole winds up taking you.” She waved around the room. “You’ve arrived.”
    Because it felt wrong to scream at a woman, and a scream was the only way for her to hear me, I chose to flash her a thumbs-up instead. She rolled her eyes at my fake enthusiasm, grabbed my elbow, and steered us through the crowd. The Underground was . . . well, it was like nowhere I’d ever been before. Rowen had taken me to some funky, word-of-mouth places around Seattle, but nothing like that. I’d certainly never been to a place like it back in Montana. A big night out in Montana included a big barn, a rented dance floor, and a local country band.
    The Underground was huge, probably the size of a couple of football fields put together. As big as it was, it still felt small since there was basically standing room only. There were thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of people bouncing to the music, swaying into the person next to them, moving like waves on the ocean. As if the mass of people and the volume of the music wasn’t overwhelming enough, strobe lights went off around the entire room. It was different from anywhere I’d ever been, but the verdict was still out if it was a good or bad different.
    “Pick your poison!” Alex called over to me once we’d worked our way to one of the bars. The music wasn’t blasting quite as loudly there, but I still felt my brain vibrating against my skull.
    “I’m only twenty.” I leaned closer to Alex so I wouldn’t have to shout. She gave me a So? look. “And I don’t have a fake I.D.”
    One more So? . That one was more pronounced. After a few moments, she rolled her eyes. The way Alex had mastered the eye roll led me to the conclusion she thought humanity was clueless. Apparently she believed I was. “This isn’t the kind of place that checks I.D.s.” Indicating at the bartender who’d just meandered up to us, she winked up at him. “We’ve got an Underground first timer on our hands here.”
    The bartender’s eyes sparkled as he turned his attention on me. A smile I wasn’t used to having directed at me from a guy slowly moved into position. “He’s getting his Underground cherry popped tonight, and I get the honor of serving him his first drink?” He flashed me a wink that made me guess he was more into my kind of equipment than Alex’s.
    Alex nodded and shoved my arm. “He might be now, but this guy’s not leaving here a virgin.”
    I thanked her with a tight smile.
    “Well, paint me Judy Garland and slap on some ruby red slippers because, honey, I’ve just landed myself in Oz,” the