“You are such a slut,” Tatum said in my ear suddenly right next to me.
“I know. You love it.”
“Generally, but I don’t like that bitch. She’s creepy.” She stepped ahead of me to create a single file line heading up to the top floor.
The stairs ended at a door marked PRIVATE. Malcolm pulled a small key from his pocket and unlocked the door. As he turned the knob, I expected to hear a creepy creak as the door opened, like an old haunted house. The door opened quietly and a soft light flicked on. We all entered the room, one after another, with Cyrus taking up the rear. The space was large and seemed to be a converted attic, spanning the area of the lower floors. Having only one small window, there wasn't much of a view to speak of. Although, I would bet that tiny view looked over the entire property. Malcolm motioned for us to take a seat in the leather bound arm chairs surrounding an oversized masculine desk that sat nearly in the center of the room. Behind the desk, two authentic looking suits of armor stood guard over the master of the house. Broadswords and ancient family crests adorned the walls on either side of us. The entire room exuded ancient, violent, masculinity.
“Could I interest either of you ladies in something to drink?” Malcolm offered.
So many quips and so little time.
“No thank you,” I said instead.
“I suppose you would prefer to get right down do it then.” Malcolm supposed correctly.
“Yes please,” Tatum spoke harshly before she shot him a look I didn’t fully understand. Her face was soft, but the look seemed angry. Well, more threatening than angry, I guess.
“From what Cyrus has explained to me, you ladies are curious as to the goings on one of my establishments. Embrace,” he said.
“To say the least,” I chimed in with a less than eloquent tone.
“I would be more than happy to elaborate; to the best of my ability, of course.” Malcolm motioned for us to take a seat in the large leather chairs as he made his way behind his desk. “Embrace is my brainchild, and as you may have guessed, a nearly completed project. The experience could use some fine tuning, but I believe we provide a safe and exciting environment.” He took a seat in his large chair.
“Get to the point ginger.” Tatum was tossing insults, it was about to get ugly.
There’s that look again.
Her eyes lingered on him for a few seconds until he spoke again.
“My apologies. The experience I speak of contains many intricate parts that must function together perfectly to create the...magic... you could say. We use trained actors and models,” he waved his thick hand in Cyrus' direction, “Hollywood props, and of course a hint of a natural substance to enhance the experience.”
“And this natural substance?”
I am so sick of beating around the bush.
“Ah, yes. Sanguinaria Canadensis. A wonderful little plant; completely harmless of course. Sang is also known as Bloodroot. The effect is similar to that of morphine. We have acquired a derivative which allows one to mix it with any liquid, relatively undetected. Consumption may induce feelings of calmness and vertigo. This sensation assists us in our performance. You see, all that you experienced last night was simply a vision created by your mind, with our help of course.” He said this as though it was a completely normal statement.
“How is this legal?” I was flabbergasted they could legally drug people.
“When you entered my establishment you were asked to sign a waiver. This waiver contained all of the information regarding the experience and the assistance of the bloodroot derivative. When you order a drink at Embrace, it has already been treated with the exact dose of the substance needed to enhance your experience. A few moments later, you probably felt very pleased, a sense of euphoria washed over you, and you felt more at peace than you have in your entire lifetime. At that point, your mind was open to accept what it viewed as fact. Thus, causing you to believe the men and women dancing around you were more beautiful than anyone you had ever seen. That these creatures had glowing green eyes, and at one point they did not cast a reflection. If you had not decided to partake in drinking our bloodroot tincture, you would have had a very different view of the events of last night.”
Obviously.
“How could you possibly have made me imagine all of those things exactly?” I was trying like hell to recall every event.
“We have help. Actors and props remember? The actors wear brightly colored contacts. The mirror, well, that will have to stay our secret. You are a reporter. I would not wish all of our secrets posted on the front page in the morning. At this time, mine is the only club to offer such an intimate experience. I am able to show mundane consumers a vision of the dark-half. And I will have to say, business has grown since the vampire boom recently. Everyone wishes to dance with the devil.” His eyes flicked to Tatum with a twinkle. She looked to her hands shyly. I acted as though I didn’t notice the cautious flirtation between the two.
No time for love, Dr. Jones. I should really take my own advice.
“Well, sweetie, we didn't. What you’re telling me is that a harmless little plant made me think I was in a room full of fictional predators?”
This is absolutely not what I was expecting.
“Put simply, yes. We add the ambiance, the theatrics, and the Sanguinaria enhancement. Your wild imagination filled in the rest. Tell me, did you not find pleasure in your experience?”
“I wouldn't say that exactly. It was the next morning, waking up in fang-boy’s bedroom that threw me for a loop. I have to say, I was very impressed with your club, brilliant idea. I’m sure you make a fortune off that place. I questioned my sanity, but I can honestly say, if I had known what to expect, I might not be so pissy right now.” I stood up and extended my hand to shake; I had had quite enough of this bullshit for one night. I had what I’d come for and I was ready to get the fuck out of there. I made a mental note to Google bloodroot, Sween and Malcolm McTavish as soon as possible.
“I do apologize for Cyrus; he does not use his brain. I am certain he was only thinking of your wellbeing. If you would accept, I would like to offer you both eternal memberships to Embrace. Free of charge, of course.” He stood.
“We'll pass. Thank you. We do appreciate the offer, and thank you for your time. You have eased my tensions regarding the events of last night.” He shook my hand, which surprised me.
“You are welcome anytime. You are both very strong, beautiful, women, but I would advise you to please be careful. The world you are skimming is not what you believe it to be.” With that, he walked toward the door, motioning for us to move ahead of him. Tatum, Cyrus, and I followed suit and made our way toward the stairwell.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked from the open doorway. I wondered then if I should stay a bit longer.
“You should not worry about these things. I only wish you are safe. Be cautious, and be wary who you trust.” Malcolm bowed his head quickly and closed the door without explaining anymore.
“Okay. Is he always like this?” I turned to direct my question toward Cyrus, only to discover that Tatum and I were left standing at the top of the dark stairway alone.
“What the fuck? Where'd he go now?” I asked inquisitively.
“I didn't even see him leave. I was focused on you and Malcolm,” Tatum said.
“Yeah, I noticed the eyes he was giving you.” I rolled my eyes and raised my brows.
“Whatever. Can we leave? I’m exhausted and I have a huge story to finish tomorrow,” she said in a tiff.
“Yes, please. I need to process all of this and I can’t do that properly without sleep.”
We made our way down the unlit staircase toward the second floor studio. Expecting the vibrant glow of industrial sized lights, I was shocked to find the second floor abandoned and dark. Panicked, I forced my eyes to focus down the gold carpeted stairway. There, coming from the first floor, an insignificant light glowed softly on the hardwood flooring. The darkness ahead f
orced my mind to overwork itself and began picking out familiar shapes in the shadows below. Cautiously, I hugged the wall and prepared myself for disaster. My heart was thumping, I could hear my heart beat in my ears, and I’d bet my face was flush white. Every inch of my body did not want to take those last two steps and descend into the unknown.
“Come on, chicken.” Tatum stepped ahead of me with a frustrated sigh.
“No wait...” She grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the shiny hardwood of the first floor. My eyes shut as a reflex in anticipation of things I cannot express in words.
“You’re fucking stupid.” Tatum laughed.
I opened my eyes to find the same room we entered an hour ago. Soft Tiffany lamps, claw footed tables and my fainting couch. I'd lay money that I could sneak that out of this house without ever being caught. Then again, if I did get caught, I’d hate to think what a house full of lifestyle vampires would do to me as punishment.
“Let's book it. I want to get home.” Tatum was already standing in the open doorway of the front door.
Without another word, I hustled across the entryway, out the front door, and down the steps. I had the eerie feeling that someone was following me to the car, so I picked up my pace. In the twentyfeet I had to walk from the steps to the car, I ended up in a full sprint. I flung the car door open and plopped my fat-ass in the leather seat, slamming the door so fast I almost caught my foot. Tatum started the engine and threw it into reverse. Her hands were shaking a bit and she was breathing heavily. She can't hold that calm demeanor forever. Tatum had the car backed out and headed down the long dirt driveway in a second and a half. It was only then I looked back. From the safety of Tatum's car, as safe as that can be, I silently scoffed at the old house. How could I have been so fucking gullible?
Bloodroot, ha, I just got that.
CHAPTER 9
White cotton, goose down, and all mine; thank God for small favors. It felt like a thousand years since I had slept in my own bed. We didn’t get onto the freeway from Dracula’s castle until nearly ten. For some reason, Tatum didn’t drive her usual Mach 4 on the way home. We stopped for a bite to eat and a beer, then headed to her place. We hardly spoke on the drive and said only a few words over our pints.
“See ya’ tomorrow. Lock it up tonight,” Tatum said with a smile. I waved from my driver seat as she shut her front door.
It was almost two in the morning by this time, and I was ready to sack out. I fell face first on my bed the moment I finally stepped through my front door and was instantly asleep. My phone rang almost immediately.
“Grr! What the fuck!” I said to myself. I flipped and rolled until I retrieved the ever ringing phone from my front pocket.
“WHAT?!” I screamed into the phone as I glanced at the clock, 2:15. Great.
“Dylan? Dylan Hart?” A familiar, but unrecognizable voice echoed from the other end of the line.
“Yeah, it’s two a.m. What?”
“You told me to call if anything came up. Well, shit came up.”
“Reggie? It’s late. What happened that couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” Someone had better be dead.
“Thought you’d want to see it with your own eyes. Your trio of freaks was in tonight. Have ‘em on security video. Our security guy Sam is waiting for you.” Her voice sounded edgy, as if she wasn’t sure how to go about carrying on this conversation.
“Seriously? Ugh, I just fell asleep. You’re sure it was them?”
“Oh yeah. You can’t miss these guys. Sorry I couldn’t get you in here earlier, had to wait till we closed. The tapes get sent to Malcolm’s office in the morning. Kind of a onetime deal here, Dylan.” Peer pressure. I’ll bet she was really good at it in high school.
“Alright, alright. Let me wake up here. It’s going to take me a few to get over there. “
“I figured. I’ll close slowly. Hurry.”
“Okay. Thanks.” The phone clicked loudly and she was gone.
If I could actually sleep tonight, it would be a fucking miracle.
Thankfully, I was still dressed. All I had to do was put my hair back up and I could head out.
I drove as fast as I could and still didn’t make it there before three. Luckily, Reggie had waited. There was no one in sight. The street was deserted which made for excellent parking. I slammed my piece of shit into park and slid out of the car. The front doors were locked. Shit. I banged my fists furiously against the door until I could hear someone working the lock from the inside. The door flung open and the eggplant on toothpicks stood before me; still in those terrible stilettos. She looked emaciated, completely drained. I would be too if I had worked on those shoes all night.
“Come in. Sam’s up the stairs.” She reached through the open doorway and pulled my arm.
After being nearly yanked inside, I followed Reggie up a small flight of stairs to a room labeled NO ENTRANCE. She knocked once and the door opened. A big, tan skinned man sat in front of a panel of TV monitors depicting different areas of the club and parking area.
“Sam, this is Dylan, the one I told you about. Show her the tapes from tonight, the ones with the babies.” She nodded at him and jutted her eyes in the direction of the monitors.
“How’s it, Dylan? Sam.” He stuck an enormous hand out. I took it, and it completely enveloped mine. He smiled sweetly and blushed a little when I smiled back. Gentle giant if there ever was one.
“Have a seat, yeah.” I sat in his chair, which he had so kindly been warming up for me all night. “D’ese da guys?” He had a familiar accent but I couldn’t quite place it.
I looked closely at the video screen. There, making their grand entrance, were my three new best friends. Or so I figured, I had never actually seen them before, so I was just guessing after all.
Even now, there isn’t really a killer visual of their ugly mugs, just their horrendous fashion sense.
“Do you say these guys are the ones I need to find? They look a little stupid. You sure they could’ve planned and attacked random hookers and baffle every precinct from here to Fresno?”
“I never said that, but you can never judge a book, remember? Anyone is capable of anything,” Reggie said gloomily.
“True. So, this is it?” Honestly, I really couldn’t see faces at all. If I was asked later to pick them out of a line-up, I would have failed miserably.
“I figured you’d want to get a good look at them.” She seemed hurt. Her voice held a smidge of anger and sadness.
“Did they leave with anyone? Or do anything ridiculous while they were here?” I was finding it hard to accept this was the only lead I was going to get.
“They showed up around ten-thirty and stayed till just before closing, one, one-thirty maybe.”
“Can I see the tape around the time they left?” I asked.
Maybe I’ll be able to see a profile at least.
The large man named Sam leaned over me and toggled with a few buttons before revealing a different monitor. He pointed to the screen and said,
“D’is ‘bout the time. You hav’ta watch awhile and see.” He glanced at me then to Reggie. It seemed like he was waiting for praise. I smiled.
“Sam, can I ask you, where are you from?”
He stood up proudly and stated, “I am Samoan. You can tell?” He smiled, like a little boy proud of his trophy.
“I heard your accent, just curious.” Smiling again, I moved my attention back to the task at hand.
I glanced to the screen and noticed a very familiar face. A quick glimpse, but I was nearly certain I knew that face. Making his way out the front door, very cozy with a tall blonde, Cyrus was leaving Macabre Saturnine at one-thirty in the morning, blonde girl in tow.
Fuck that guy!
I honestly can’t say why I was so exasperated by this sight. I didn’t even really like him that much. In fact, he irritated the shit out of me. If I had to guess, I’d say it was the fact that I thought he was different. He gave off the impression he had more depth than to
flitter about with tall, thin, blonde girls. I thought, for once, I didn’t have to try and live up to something I would never be. Apparently, I was wrong.
I tried my damnedest to hide my emotions. He made me feel like a fucking idiot and if there’s anything in this world I hate, it’s being made to feel stupid. Well, that and crying in public. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my fists into balls, nearly cutting my palms with my nails. This, like most everything, I would squeeze and grit until it was no more. Until I didn’t care anymore. Just a moment longer and it wouldn’t matter. This was true also, because only a few moments later, I saw the trio exiting with yet another girl; this one donned a cropped, jet black bob. They were doing their best to schmooze her. All three of them were kissing her hands, arms, and neck. She was eating it up. Low self-esteem I’d bet. No dragging out by the hair, no drugging, no ropes, blades, or sinister mustaches. Everything seemed fairly harmless. Besides, the guys didn’t fit the profile, too lame. There comes a point where you’re no longer lame and you’re just pathetic, and these guys were sliding quickly down the rocky path of pathetic.
“Alright, if they come back call me, while they’re here so I can talk to them, please,” I said through clenched teeth.
“You okay?” Reggie placed her ice cold hand on my bare shoulder. I shivered.
“Yeah, fine, just tired. Thanks.” I wasn’t into sharing.
“You don’t look fine,” she said questioningly, looking at me with consoling eyes.
“Just not what I expected to see is all. I’m fine. I just need to go home and sleep.”
“You noticed Cyrus? I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Her voice was apologetic.
“What makes you think Cyrus would affect me?” Was I that apparent?
“I’m not an idiot. You left with him last night. I put it together.” The once soft, rueful, voice had turned slightly arrogant.
“Well, it’s not a big deal so don’t worry about it.” I was not about to have a heart to heart with a girl I barely knew in some random security room. “Thanks for the help.” I stood then and made my way to the door.
The Scene (Dylan Hart Odyssey of the Occult Series) Page 8