One of the other bouncers, new from the look of him, was holding the door for me. I didn’t keep him waiting and hightailed it inside to the sounds of catcalls and pissed-off complaints. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn the leather.
Walking into the entrance was always a little intimidating. It was a short, pitch-black hallway, occasionally lit by the hint of a strobe light creeping under the thick metal door at the end. I could already feel my bones vibrating from the bass of the music inside. Taking a breath, I slid my hand into one of the pockets of my leather pants and drew out a silver chain with a matching silver cross. Not much in the way of protection, but at least it should prevent Royce from getting any ideas.
Once I’d settled the necklace around my throat, the cross prominent against my breastbone, I pushed my way past the door and dropped off my coat with the checker, a heavily tattooed boy with a blue Mohawk and more piercings than I could count.
The first bar was far too crowded, so I brushed past the first hurdle of bodies crushed against each other and worked my way toward the dance floor in the next room. The place had four floors. There were three dance floors, one with a stage, and a number of quieter rooms with plush couches and sideshows and whatnot for those who wanted a break from dancing or just wanted to get their rocks off watching the exhibitionists that came out of the woodwork for the sideshows. The rumored “private” show rooms and employee’s offices were all upstairs as far as I knew. Never been in them, never planned on being in or even near them, thank you.
I’d made nice with one of the bartenders a while back. James often helped me find my marks and made for good conversation when said marks were no-shows. Unfortunately, he was completely inundated when I made my way to the second floor, barely having enough time to return my wave of greeting. There went my bright idea of asking him where to find Royce.
Looking around with distaste, I figured I might as well work off some of my jittery energy on the dance floor for a few minutes until some space cleared up at the bar. If I didn’t calm my nerves, I’d probably end up looking and sounding like an idiot once I finally found the vamp anyway.
I headed to the one that was playing the least obnoxious remix, relieved to see that the third, smallest, dance floor was also the least crowded, as was the bar. Glory hallelujah!
After two songs without a partner to dance with, I was bored out of my skull. There were only a handful of other people dancing here, and there was plenty of room for us all to leave a good deal of personal space between one another.
Weaving past the gyrating bodies on the dance floor to get to the tiny bar, I waited just a couple of minutes to get the attention of the bartender and shout an order for a bottle of water. Much as I would’ve liked something with a little more kick to it to steady my nerves and give me a shot of much-needed liquid courage, I didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to interview a vamp while toasted.
One of the men who had been leaning indolently against the wall watching the dancers walked over to me, and I had to fight back a sigh and an eye roll. He was taller than me, though still average in height. He was dressed much like the other Goth posers on the floor, albeit without the heavy white makeup, dark eyeliner, or multiple piercings. At a guess, judging by his smooth, slightly dark-toned skin, he was in his late twenties, early thirties, tops.
I braced myself for what I was sure would be a cheesy pickup line, but the guy surprised me with a much more subtle opening.
“Alone, are we? You don’t seem like one of the usual crowd. What brings you here tonight?”
The directness of his question was what caught me. I took a quick sip of my water to hide my indecision. Well, I didn’t think it would hurt too much to tell him the truth. It’d probably work to make him move on to greener pastures.
“I was hoping to catch the club owner for a few minutes. I would’ve asked one of my friends who works here, but he was busy. Just killing some time until some of the bodies clear out.”
On closer inspection, I saw he had thick dark hair that hung down to his shoulders and partially obscured equally dark eyes, though in the dim lighting I couldn’t tell if it they were pure black or simply a dark brown. His features were strong, as were those well-defined shoulders and taut, flat stomach I could see through the netted black shirt he wore. Those leather pants seemed painted on, showing equally muscular and painfully well-defined legs. He was, dare I say, devilishly handsome?
He arched a brow at my answer, his gaze shifting from mine to the cross. It was a brief glance, not lecherous, simply speculative. I flushed a little anyway. Come on, the guy looked at my (albeit small) chest. Also, knowing I was coming to speak to a vamp with the cross on was pretty much blatantly stating that I was either a White Hat or the closest thing to it. Very cliché, and, depending on who you asked, very rude.
I didn’t mind committing the social faux pas as long as it meant Royce would keep his fangs to himself.
He surprised me further at his next words. “I can help you with that. Follow me.”
Chapter 5
Follow a stranger in a vamp-run bar? I hesitated, but only for a moment. Figuring it beat waiting around to try to spot Royce myself or for James to have a spare moment to help me, I did as he asked. As I followed him toward the back of the club, I managed to take note that he looked almost as good from the back as he did from the front. My, my. If these were the sorts of people in Royce’s entourage, maybe I needed to come by more often, if for nothing more than the eye candy. I wondered if the guy was security or vamp chow.
We weaved through the crowds, working our way to an elevator hidden around a bend I’d never cared enough to explore before. Once inside, he pulled out a key and used it to unlock the button for what I noted was a heretofore-unknown fifth floor. Even in the elevator, I could hear music pounding through, making it seem somehow uncomfortable to start talking just yet. As the elevator “pinged” almost imperceptibly, he reached forward to hold the doors and gestured for me to precede him.
I stepped into a silent, well-lit hallway with a number of thick mahogany doors leading to what were presumably management offices. It felt like stepping into a different world. The austere design would have looked more at home in a well-to-do law firm than a nightclub. There was no music once the elevator doors slid shut, only the soft burble of water flowing over rocks from a little fountain sitting on a low table.
The man slid past me and led the way to the last of the doors at the end of the hall. There was no sign to indicate whose office it was. He opened the door, flipped the light switch, and stepped inside.
It was a pristine white-carpeted, white-walled space, with two chrome-and-leather chairs facing a sleek black desk, and two black leather couches surrounding a gleaming marble table. He gestured for me to sit on one of the couches, which I did, a bit stiffly, holding on to the bottle of water since I didn’t see any coasters and wasn’t about to chance pissing off the vamp by getting spots on his nice, shiny table.
As I sat, I noticed a little wet bar in one of the corners, with two gleaming chrome barstools set before it. There were no papers on the desk, nothing but a pen, a desk calendar, and a silver paperweight shaped into a little pyramid. No computer? No phone? Odd.
The walls were hung with tasteful paintings of English riders and hunting scenes. A few potted plants, mostly ivies and ferns, added some color to the room. The view behind the desk was fantastic, overlooking the moonlit river spilling out into the ocean. Somehow the mix between sleek modern sophistication and rustic English lord came together into an unexpectedly comfortable workplace. I don’t know what I expected of an office for Royce, but I don’t think this was really it.
After I’d taken it all in, I said, “Thank you for showing me up here. I hope this isn’t much trouble for you. Will Royce be long?”
He chuckled, pulling the door shut and walking over to take a seat on the couch next to the one I’d chosen. He surprised me yet again when he leaned back and propped his combat-boote
d feet on the table.
“He’s here. What did you want to ask me, Ms. Waynest?”
Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Alone in his office. Alone with a vampire. Oh God, I’d checked out his butt!
Seeing my mouth drop open and my sudden speechlessness, he grinned, giving me an unnecessarily good view of sharp, pearly canines. They weren’t much longer than a normal human’s, since they weren’t extended to feed just now, but the razor tips were obvious, if only to me.
“Surprised, I see. Not to worry, I know you’re here for business rather than pleasure. I take it you weren’t expecting to see me under quite these circumstances, hmm?”
“Uh, no, not exactly.”
Not in leather pants and a netted, see-through shirt. Not looking quite that good, or so…alive, I suppose. Which for some reason made me sort of suspicious. He had approached me first and now called me by name. I knew I’d never met him before. Why would he come to me?
“How did you know who I was?”
He shrugged, sitting back comfortably and lacing his hands behind his head. His eyes never left mine, though, and it was getting more unnerving by the second.
“I make it a point to familiarize myself with others using my places of business to further their own ends. Forgive me for saying so, but you are much more lovely in person. Your picture in the paper last month did not do you justice.”
Argh. I could feel the heat and color rising in my cheeks. I would not let his flattery sidetrack me. Turning my head so my red curls hid the obvious blush on my pale skin, I started fumbling in my pockets to find the photo I’d brought with me. How could a vamp’s skin tone be darker than mine?
“I—listen, I actually wanted to just ask for your help. H&W Investigations has taken on a client whose son is missing. He was last seen fleeing his home in the company of a vampire.”
“I see.”
The flat words weren’t encouraging. He didn’t move, or say anything else. It was almost eerie. That was when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that his chest did not rise and fall to take a breath. He wasn’t bothering to “play human” for me now. Great.
Finally finding the picture, I dragged it out of my back pocket, only slightly creased from the abuse I’d put it through by carrying it back there. “This is the boy, David Borowsky, and his girlfriend Tara. Do either of them look familiar to you?”
I couldn’t help but shudder when his fingers brushed against mine as he leaned forward to take the picture. His gaze flicked from the picture to me, then returned to focus fully on the photograph. A low “hmph” escaped him, his coal black brows slowly furrowing and a frown forming on his forehead. “She’s not one of my number. Nor one of any of my current guests’ flock. She’s poaching.”
Poaching. Just hearing him use that word so casually to mean taking the life of another human being made me feel ill.
At my silence, he glanced back to me again, still frowning. “I will assist you in finding her. You should get a warrant for her extermination. Do you have the connections?”
I shook my head, almost unable to believe my luck. This would tie him to me for a few days at least, possibly leading to the opening I needed to find that little figurine. I wondered why he recognized me but didn’t already know that I don’t do exterminations. H&W specializes in lost persons, tracking, surveillance, and photographing and videoing our marks. Sara and I left the rest up to our clients or the police if we discovered wrong-doing in the line of duty. My contacts at the local police stations were all pretty casual, not enough to get a warrant on short notice.
“Then I shall handle that for you.” He pointed at the photograph. “May I keep this?”
“Sure,” I croaked, feeling way in over my head. What the hell was I doing, partnering up with a vampire on a run?
“Very well. I’m sure we have the information on file somewhere, but would you mind giving me your card in case I need to contact you on the matter? I’ll give you my direct number as well.”
He rose with glacial slowness to head over to his desk, pick up the pen, and open a drawer to pull out a business card. Probably moving that way on purpose to keep from scaring me further. He scrawled something on the back of it and came back over to the couch. We exchanged cards, and this time I managed to keep from having a physical reaction when our fingers brushed again. Outwardly, anyway. I was pretty sure my stomach was still somewhere in the region of my knees.
Once that was done, he held out his hand. It took a long moment for me to realize he meant to help me up. I hesitated at the idea of putting my hand in his, and worse yet, it was noticeable. He actually smiled, amused rather than annoyed.
“I don’t bite without permission, Ms. Waynest. Or did you want to stay and chat?”
Oh no. No, no, no. I shook my head vehemently, probably too much so, taking his hand and rising quickly to my feet with little help on his part. He probably felt me shaking despite how brief the contact was. I certainly felt how cool his flesh was; it made my skin crawl.
“Do you need me to see you out?”
After swallowing my heart, I managed a few words. “No, I can find my way.” I hesitated again. What I said next felt like the equivalent of forcing ground glass out from behind my teeth. “Thank you, Mr. Royce. I’ll be in touch.”
I got a glimpse of fang as he grinned again before he turned away and moved toward the windows overlooking the river. He clasped his hands behind his back, his words seeming distant through my haze of fear. “The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Waynest. I’m sure we’ll speak again soon. Good night.”
Chapter 6
When I got home, all I wanted to do was collapse in bed. I had the shakes in the car all the way across the river. I still had them when I shoved the key in the lock after the third try. Even after I turned on every light and snapped every lock and deadbolt in the apartment, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
What the hell was it about vamps that scared me so much? They’d come out of the closet, so to speak, along with the rest of the supernatural community shortly after 9/11. It was pretty creepy for most people to find out they’d been doing lunch with an elf in the next cube for the last few years and that a Were had been giving them their manicures. That the janitor was a vamp flunky. The plumber was a warlock. That the state representative they voted for was a mage and the one they didn’t was a Were. The initial panic that hit most people settled down when a handful of prominent celebrities, businesspeople, and even some government officials all came forward to let the world know they had supernatural origins.
Actually, that kind of explains a lot.
Anyway, it was common knowledge now that vamps, along with the rest of the underworld, have been around for ages plodding alongside the rest of humankind as we worked together and shaped what now passes for civilization. Even though they hid their identities and usually no more than scraped by in the past, making a living as best they could without giving away their origins, the layers of secrecy surrounding their existence are slowly coming undone. They’ve been here through our good times and bad, fighting and bleeding and dying alongside us in our wars, not to mention in their own secret turf wars in the shadows.
In the aftermath of the World Trade Center attacks, a Were known as Rohrik Donovan came forth, offering the aid of his pack members in searching the rubble of the Twin Towers for survivors. They worked hard and long into the night side-by-side with the police and firefighters, digging desperately through the remains of the collapsed buildings and using their superior sense of smell, blinded as it was by the toxic mix of chemicals and ash thick in the air, to find any signs of life. Actually, some of the firefighters first on the scene were Weres, and only revealed themselves after Rohrik announced the Moonwalker tribe’s offer of assistance that day.
At the same time, magi and vampires found it became necessary, because of their ties to the financial sector, to reveal themselves once the World Trade Center collapsed. While the stock market was already in
flux over the act of terrorism, The Circle stepped forward a few days later with offers to dip into their coffers to give the halting economy a much-needed boost in the days following the country’s near collapse, as well as to use their supernatural skills to fortify strongholds in some major cities in the event of future attacks.
Royce, soon followed by a few other vampires, also stepped into the limelight to add his support to The Circle and speak on behalf of other vampires their wish to see the United States fortified against future acts of terrorism and rebuilt stronger than ever.
Their acts of charity in the name of patriotism and the deep shock people the world over had already suffered from the terrorist attacks was probably the only thing that saved the Others from the hysterical panic of the masses. Those who had stepped forth in other countries were not so fortunate.
Owing to their efforts, these days racism was simply not done when it came to creatures not fully human. It had become more than just a social no-no. If you were going to discriminate, you needed to be prepared to deal with it in court. Royce was the one who brought that about, actually. A. D. Royce Industries v. Amaretto Confections was notable not only because the plaintiff was a vamp, but because the vamp was suing a distributor for discriminating against his restaurants by jacking up their prices and treating his staff like crap whenever they placed an order. He’d gathered the evidence and proven that they, along with a number of other businesses, charged more to Other-run establishments. Word on the street said The Circle was still bitter that he got to keep the majority of the winnings from the case since they hedged too long about joining the potential class action suit.
The result was more rights and privileges for our undead or otherwise nonfullblood citizens. There were other supernaturals who had made it a point to push for equal rights, and after the first few riots and massacres that broke out, things were settling down and they were actually getting their wishes. In the United States, at least, the Others are now considered to have the same rights as fullblood humans, perhaps more because of their minority status.
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