by Jamie Wyman
“Thank you, Flynn.”
“Rules,” he barked. “Limited access. He’s not allowed here without you. He only goes upstairs after hours. I don’t want him seen in my bar. Got it?”
I nodded.
“Give me your key,” he continued. “I’ll make sure it’s charged before you need to get out of here.”
I slipped my panic button free from its ring and tossed it across the room to Flynn. He caught it as he turned away from me.
“Thank you,” I repeated. “This means a lot to me.”
As he turned the knob, Flynn scuffed his chin over his bony shoulder and looked at me sadly. “I hope he’s worth it.”
He padded off, leaving me alone with the rapid patter of my pulse and a satyr puking in the next room.
Chapter Five
“Cool Blue Reason”
While Marius indulged in a shower, I made a phone call to my employer, the steward of my soul. My stomach rolled with nausea, not in sympathy for Marius but out of sheer terror. I admit that I act rough and tough when around gods—it’s the only way to make sure they know you won’t be cowed by that whole immortal and omnipotent thing they’ve got going on. In reality, though, I’m fucking petrified by all of them. I’ve had my soul ripped from my being, my mind twisted in knots, my body put through the wringer, and my dignity hung on the line by all sorts of deities. That being the case, I think a little butterfly in the tummy is doing pretty well.
Loki answered on the third ring, his cool voice merry as Christmas. “What’s new, pussycat?”
I rolled my eyes but counted my blessings that he was in a good mood. “Hey, Boss. You got a minute…or five?”
“For you? Always. I hope you had a pleasant birthday.”
“I’ve had worse,” I dodged.
“Did you get my present?”
“Unless you dropped a half-dead body on my doorstep, then no. If you did, we really need to talk about your choice of gifts.”
The god’s laughter carried a note of approval. “I have better taste than that, Cat. If I sent you a body it would be completely dead or none at all. Besides, I know you’re not overly fond of satyrs.”
I winced. News of Marius had gotten to Loki on the godly grapevine. “So you know why I’m calling.”
“I’m only surprised it’s taken you this long.”
“Will you meet us?” I crossed my fingers and said a small prayer to any god that would listen.
Please, just take him off my hands and let this end smoothly, quickly, and without monsters attacking me.
“An hour,” he said firmly. “Sapphire. It’s a club on Industrial. Couple blocks south of Sahara. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Don’t thank me yet, Miss Sharp.”
***
Marius exited the bathroom cleaned up and looking more like himself, wearing the borrowed clothes Flynn had dropped off. While there was a height difference between the two of them, it was nothing compared to the chasm between their individual styles. Marius, who was comfortable in designer suits or torn jeans that cost more than a plasma television, now sported one of Flynn’s metal band shirts and a pair of bondage pants. Chains jingled from the satyr’s hips, and I’d be a liar with flaming trousers if I said he didn’t make an attractive goth.
“Go on, say it,” he said catching my smile. “I’m ridiculous.”
I shook my head, my hair falling in my face like a curtain. “No, the chains look good on you.” The words left me before I’d approved them. Heat rose to my cheeks.
“Well,” he mused. His face scrunched in a wry grin. “Perhaps a date with you will be more interesting than I expect.”
“You’ll have to wait to find out,” I said. “We’re leaving.”
“For where?”
“Your first—and hopefully last—job interview.”
Marius followed me upstairs to a silent YmFy. The empty bar—normally a neon beacon in the dark warehouse—was dim and lifeless. Alone but for the bottles, Flynn stood behind the bar taking inventory and prepping the place for the night crowd. My friend stopped his work and stared at us with a mixture of worry and menace. I said nothing but gave Flynn a wave laced with gratitude.
Outside, the summer air was thick and hot as a blast furnace. Crunching across the gravel to my car, I mentioned, “Flynn set up access for you, too. Anything in the building that requires a code, just enter your password.”
“And just what is my password?”
“Goatfucker,” I said with a smirk.
“Charming.”
“You don’t get your own panic button. You’re only allowed at YmFy with me. So if we need to bug out fast, grab onto me and I’ll panic button us back,” I added, dangling my key fob in front of his face.
He convulsed. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on teleporting his way unless I’m bleeding from every orifice. And on fire.”
Turning to face Marius, I pinched his cheek and put on a baby-talk voice. “What’s a-matter? Somebody’s tummy feeling yucky?”
“Do shut up, won’t you?”
“No.” I filled him in on Flynn’s rules. “Anyway, you can use my room for now, but the sooner we get you another backer the better. Hopefully this meeting will pan out, and it won’t be an issue.”
“Where are we going?” he asked again, his voice tinged with the slightest hint of fear.
“We’re going to see—”
My vision blurred, went crimson, and a wave of bliss fell over my skin in a flush of heat. The YmFy parking lot was gone, replaced by snapshots of a dark room…
A bed with silk sheets black as night. The cloying scent of sex and whiskey lingers in the air. I lie there, glistening with sweat and writhing beneath the temptations of…who? Before I can think, another wave of ecstasy crashes against me. I rock with it, arching my naked body into the eager kisses of a lover. Breath falls over my thighs, followed by prickly stubble and soft lips. Hands slide over my knees. I can only hear the sounds of my own needy whimpering, low moans of pleasure. A flick of a tongue and I cry out, my own hands twisting in those silk sheets, toes curling against a taut, muscular back.
“Catherine!” Marius said.
“Yes,” I panted. Body atingle, mind numbed with the imagined orgasm, I staggered forward and fell against my car.
His hand was tight on my arm, his face drawn with concern. “Are you all right?”
Giddy and lightheaded, I let out a sigh that turned into a satiated giggle. “I’m fine…”
“What happened?”
As the pleasure ebbed away, reality slid back into place. Shame soon followed, accompanied by confusion.
Then memory. One of Marius’s satyr abilities was to inject sordid thoughts into another’s mind. “Did you just…?”
“Just what?” he asked.
He wouldn’t be playing his mind games now, of all times, would he? No, the expression on his face was one of pure concern. He had no idea what I’d just seen. I dragged a hand through my hair. “I just…I kinda…I guess I zoned out there,” I explained weakly.
Marius’s eyes swept over the lot. “You’re really all right?”
“Fine,” I assured him. “I’m fine. Get in the car. Less chance of you being seen.”
When we were in the car and on our way, I asked, “So that trick of yours that you used on me a time or two…the one that lets you put thoughts into my head… Anyone like that looking for you?”
He shrugged. “Several creatures have that ability. What sort of thing did you see?”
I flushed red and chewed my lip. “Sex,” I answered simply.
He chuffed with a sad laugh. After a strained silence, he said, “That doesn’t narrow things down.”
“Any other satyrs? Guys with grudges?”
He shook his head. “Not really. We don’t exactly keep in touch. For the most part, satyrs just look out for themselves.”
The car fell silent. I didn’t want to comment on that, and Marius seem
ed to lose himself in his thoughts for a time. I counted all the nasty beasts that could’ve gotten into my head. Fae? Puck had done something similar before. I cringed, as thinking of the Fae immediately brought up the sorest spot on my heart: Dahlia, my ex. The woman who had lost my soul to Eris, bound my powers, and never had the decency to tell me that I was more than human.
“Was it good?” Marius asked, his quiet tone jarring me from memories of the traitorous faerie.
“Was what good?”
He smirked. “The sex. In the vision. Was it at least good?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
***
Loki was waiting for us at Industrial and Sahara, so I got behind the wheel and pointed my car southeast. Senses still flying from…whatever that flash had been about, the Las Vegas twilight swam past my car in swaths of bright colors. The filaments of energy that run through the city like veins pulsed with power. If I listened, I could hear the high-tension hum of the world blending with the low purr of my car’s motor. Each spark plug that sent out another snap-pop of current joined the chorus. Normally, such sounds are calming and lull me into a relaxed, meditative state. Not so on that night. No, after the sexually charged vision, the city’s life coursed through me, igniting me like a lover’s teasing strokes. I felt alive, wicked, and ready to meet my boss with mischief to equal his.
“We’re being followed,” Marius calmly informed me as I turned south onto Industrial Road
I checked the rearview, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d been so off in my own little world for most of the drive that I’d have to take his word for it.
“You’re sure?” I asked. The vehicles following us didn’t look like spy cars. No ominous black SUVs or nondescript white vans. Just the usual traffic—a party bus, a couple of beaten-up sedans on their last legs, a luxury car or two.
“Fairly certain,” Marius muttered, shifting in his seat. “The yellow bike a few cars back.”
I looked up again just in time to see a garish yellow motorcycle weave between lanes and pull up on my tail. The single light hovered in the mirror. The driver didn’t speed up, didn’t draw a weapon or try to flag me over to the shoulder. He just drove a standard, safe distance behind us.
“Suggestions?” I asked.
“Keep going. The meeting is in a public place, yes?”
I nodded. “Sapphire.”
Marius let out a rueful laugh. “Of course it is. Loki’s choice, I suppose?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve never been, have you?”
I shook my head. “It’s a club, right?”
Marius’s smile held little mirth as he kept his eyes trained on the rearview. “The bike is falling back, but I’m certain we’ll see it in the lot at Sapphire. Won’t we?”
I shrugged. “Maybe it’s just a bike?”
The satyr fidgeted in his seat, tugging at his borrowed T-shirt and shifting the chains on his pants. He drew a long breath through his teeth. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“You mean like that time I cheated on my third-grade history test?”
“Who are we really meeting, Catherine?”
“Loki. Who else?”
Marius stared at me for a long, unnervingly silent moment. Between glances at him and the road, I couldn’t read the blank look on his face. A familiar discomfort began to twist and ache beneath my breastbone. A sick sort of hope choked with guilt gripped my heart and shoved it up into my throat. I liked it when he looked at me, and I wanted…what? Desire? Approval?
“What?” I croaked. “We talked about this. Loki’s the only person I know who can help you. It’s the best I can do.”
Now I saw something there in those leaf-green eyes—wonder, humility. “It never even occurred to you to double-cross me, did it?”
“Double— No. Why would it?”
“There’s probably a bounty on my head so large it would make Solomon blush. A couple of calls to the right people and you could arrange a meeting, have us followed, and when we get out of the car I’m pinned in on both sides by the guy on the bike and the god inside. Quite the elegant trap.”
I gaped at him. I hadn’t even thought of that. My stomach roiled at the idea. “Is this why you’ve been all broody and quiet since we left Flynn’s? Because you think I’m about to deliver you to your enemy?”
“Or maybe Flynn made the call,” he said.
“Stop.”
“It wouldn’t be too hard for him. He loathes me as it is.”
“Stop,” I snapped. “Seriously, you’re driving me crazy with this shit. I’m taking you to see Loki. Done. I’m not some Judas or fucking Fredo. And neither is Flynn.”
“Did you just make a Godfather reference?”
“Yes. Deal with it.”
Marius fussed with his ponytail and went back to surreptitiously watching the traffic behind us. After a few minutes, I asked, “Is this what it’s like for you? Constantly wondering who’s about to stab you in the back?”
“More or less,” he answered.
“Jesus. No wonder you’re so lonely.”
***
I parked the car beneath the blue lights of Sapphire just as dusk fell. Even at this relatively early hour, the lot was full and a steady stream of patrons drifted into the club.
“There’s our friend.” Marius tipped his chin, and I followed the gesture just in time to see the Caustic Lemon crotch rocket slow down. The rider wore a helmet in a similarly horrific shade of yellow with a black face mask. I couldn’t see his eyes, but he turned his head and I’d have sworn he’d looked right at me.
It was as if I’d lost cabin pressure. My ears popped and thrummed with my rapid pulse, and my stomach flopped. I turned my back to the rider and…
Hot whispers tickle on the back of my neck. Fingers tighten in my hair as a tongue slides along my ear. Teeth nibble my earlobe, and I let my head fall back, inviting those lips to devour me one precious kiss at a time. I reach up to run my hand through thick, silken hair.
As I grabbed a fistful of those tresses, the flash of desire vanished. I took stock of the world around me—so different from how it had seemed a fraction of a second ago. My car was there, bathed in electric-blue light. The only heat against my skin came from the summer night. And the satyr at my back. Marius stood behind me, a steadying hand light on my hip. Quickly, I disentangled my fingers from his mane and whirled around.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
I expected to find his signature smirk blazing from his face, but instead of smile lines, Marius’s brow was furrowed. “It happened again, didn’t it?”
I nodded, looking to see if we’d had an audience. “Yeah. Yeah, it did.”
His gaze darted over my head as he searched the parking lot, as if looking for someone.
I pulled away from him and shuffled toward the club. “Let’s just go. I need a drink and to clear my head.”
I didn’t mention that I might need a cold shower, too.
Besides, we’d get into the bar and find Loki, and then thoughts of lurid sex would be the furthest thing from my mind.
When I opened the door, however, I understood that I was deluding myself.
Turns out that Sapphire is a strip joint.
Chapter Six
“Indigo Eyes”
The lobby resembled a hotel more than a nudie bar. Simple yet elegant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their amber reflections gleaming off the marble floor. Along the walls were tubes like something out of a sci-fi movie: gray cylinders with glass fronts, illuminated with azure light. Each of these tubes held the sculpture of a female torso. Near the door, patrons queued up behind a velvet rope awaiting entrance into the main floor of the club. From the other side of the nearest wall, a deep, insistent rhythm beat out, occasionally punctuated by the cheering of a crowd.
Jogging toward me was a gorgeous man. He had chocolate skin and biceps threatening to tear the sleeves of his black polo emblazoned with t
he club’s logo. He moved past the line of would-be customers and greeted me with a smile.
“Miss Sharp,” he beamed. “You and your guest are expected. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you to your private lounge.”
Marius eyed me cautiously. “Thought you said you’d never been here before.”
“I haven’t,” I replied. I turned to the escort and gestured forward. “Lead the way.”
After a short trip to the upstairs of the club, we were shown into one of Sapphire’s “skyboxes.” The suite boasted two lengths of black Italian leather molded into couches—one on either side of the room. Mounted onto a wall was a flat-screen television. A window offered a bird’s eye view of the action on the main floor. I squinted, blinded by walls painted a shade of green somewhere between Electric Lime and Acid-Trip Leprechaun.
When my eyes adjusted, I saw the Holy Grail: a bottle of vodka chilling in a bucket of ice next to a selection of mixers sweating in their bottles. I dove forward—past the exotic dancer sprawled on the nearest of the sofas—and began double fisting cans of Red Bull.
The door shut behind us and Marius grumbled, “Well, where is he?”
“How the hell should I know?” I said between gulps.
The stripper slithered to her feet. “We could have fun while you wait for your friend,” she purred. She slid a finger down her throat, over her breasts. Looking up from beneath a forest of false lashes, she pinned Marius with a glance both hopeful and promising. “I’m Candy.”
I rolled my eyes. Aren’t they always Candy? I looked her over. While she wasn’t my usual type of woman, Candy was indeed tasty. With her heavy, dark makeup and multiple piercings, she’d chosen a punky-Lolita stripper persona. Her blond hair—shaved on the sides and pulled up high on the crown of her head—resembled a palomino mane rather than a ponytail. Underneath her black mesh top, she wore a glittery gold bra that almost covered her enhanced money makers. The gleaming latex skirt revealed just a hint of bare ass cheek as she leaned against Marius. Her lips grazed his chin.