by Eliza Ford
Jennifer smirked and waved the bottle of red over Em's glass. Em nodded, and Jennifer muttered “geek” under her breath as she poured. They both laughed.
“And don't worry about tonight,” Em said. “It really did get busy at work. Robert had an invitation to that new burlesque club on the south side. We can go later, I guess, once we're a bit more clear at work.”
Jennifer's ears pricked up. “What's this new club?” she asked. “I can't believe there's a new burlesque club and I haven't heard about it!”
“Well, I don't know, actually,” Em admitted slowly. “It's in one of the old warehouse buildings down that way, but I haven't heard anything about it.” And that was odd, now she thought about it. She thought she'd had her ear to the ground, but this had slipped right past her.
“Weird,” Jennifer agreed. “How'd Robert find out about it?”
“He said he'd got a flyer in his letterbox.” Which was weird too, now she thought about it. “His home letterbox, not his work mail,” she frowned. “I've just realized how strange that is. I'd assumed it had been a work thing because there was a handwritten note on the back asking him to call for a meet and greet. I thought it was the club management trying to get in good with the police...”
Jennifer shrugged. “You guys are crime scene, not police, aren't you? And how did they know where he lived? That's kinda spooky, don't you think?”
Em found she had to agree. Why hadn't she realized any of this before?
“But he did call,” she said, “and they gave him a free admission plus one to tonight, which was supposed to be the opening, and to a behind the scenes tour, or somesuch.”
“Behind the scenes at a burlesque club?” giggled Jennifer. “As if you won't be getting enough tits and ass from the seats out the front! What do they think you are?” She snorted suddenly with a huge burst of laughter. “What do they think Robert is? I wouldn't have thought burlesque was his thing.”
“Oh, leave him alone!” Em laughed. “He's not that much of nerd. And if the tits and ass are worth paying to see the first time, who cares if we get to see them twice. It will be fun. We'll go tomorrow. We should be done with this case by then.”
“I still don't think you should be dating your boss,” Jennifer muttered into her wine glass, but with a decidedly cheeky grin on her face. “Especially when the geek is taking you to a strip club.” She giggled again, and Em threw a cushion at her.
“Shut up, Jenn. And I'm not taking dating advice from you, thank you very much. No one can eat this much ice cream, or drink this much wine!”
Jennifer looked placidly at the snowdrift of tissues and the empty cartons of ice cream on the coffee table. “I know,” she said with a sigh and a smile, and Em could see that she was okay now. “He was a jerk, you were right. Better luck next time, hey.”
Em was relieved. Jennifer had come through this one quite well. It had taken more ice cream and viewings of Titanic than Em cared to remember to get the girl to this stage. Jennifer was very good at flirting, exciting new sex and hopeless adoration, but absolutely dreadful at breaking up or putting her foot down. Em's coaching sessions had resulted in Jennifer finally being able to hang up on a boyfriend before he hung up on her, and being able to say “I hate you” like she meant it. She'd come a long way, and Em had high hopes for her yet. Jennifer was still a naive sentimental, and Em wished she'd slow down on the vodka, but there was a chance, just a chance she might score something more than a one night stand.
Baby steps, Em thought. Baby steps.
The doorman gave them a bored glance. It was a practised bored glance, Em realized. The club had barely been open a week, he couldn't really be bored. Not yet. The thick black eyeliner, the black bow tie and suspenders over his tanned and chiselled naked torso were all part of the same act. He had a thin face and a long nose. It made him look a little like a rat.
There was something else familiar about him too, Em thought, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Her headache was back. It had subsided a little over the last two days - an entire packet of paracetamol and half a bottle of scotch will have that effect - but the mental throbbing seemed to be back now, and twice as bad as before.
“Name?” said the rat-faced man, raising an eyebrow as he scanned Robert's jacket and shirt. He was a little overdressed, Em agreed, but that was Robert. What could you do?
“Robert Williams. This is my guest, Ms Emilia Ambrose.”
The doorman flipped through several pages of his list before he found Robert's name. When he did, he muttered something under his breath and turned to rummage through some papers in a small alcove in the doorway. He pulled out a red envelope, opened it and read its contents. His eyes flashed up sharply to meet Em's, then he lowered his gaze again and checked Robert's name off the list with a flourish.
When he looked up again his demeanour had changed entirely.
“Mr Williams,” he smirked. “Welcome to our humble little establishment. We are so pleased to have you, and Ms... Ambrose... was it?” He flicked a look in Em's direction again but didn't meet her eyes this time.
Em knew there was something about the man that she should be paying attention to, something about him that was... She ran her fingers through her hair and used the movement as an excuse to press her palm against the side of her head. The headache was getting worse by the minute. There was a ringing in her head that sounded like twisting, tearing metal. She could hardly think with the throbbing in her temples, but she smiled at Robert when he took her elbow and they walked downstairs into the club together.
They were seated at a small, round wooden table close to the stage and within moments a young blonde waitress came to take their drinks order. Em watched her carry her tray back to the bar, lean over, give their order to the buff young man mixing the drinks and saw the waitress nod her head in their direction. The man looked over quickly, and even across the darkened room Em saw his eyes widen and a predatory half smile curl his lips.
What was that? Em thought. She suddenly had the strangest feeling that she had forgotten something. There was something about the doorman and the man behind the bar that she should have recognized, but this headache! It's making me crazy, thought Em.
Robert was making small talk about the club and its patrons, Em realized, and she hadn't heard a thing.
“The owner is European, apparently,” he said, “Ukrainian, or something - or so I've heard.” He grinned a little disparagingly. “Well, that's what Eddie says. He'd know. Is there a club in town Eddie doesn't frequent?”
“Eddie?” said Em, a little stupidly.
Robert looked at her. “Eddie, the mortuary technician.” He paused. “Em are you OK? You look a little...”
Em reached across the table and laid her hand on Robert's. “I'm fine,” she said. “I've just got a bit of a headache. It's nothing, really.” That was an understatement, she thought, and then she noticed Robert was still frowning at her. Under the table she rubbed her ankle up the inside of his leg. “I'm fine,” she said again.
He still looked concerned. “If you're not feeling well,” he began, and the blond waitress interrupted with their drinks.
She placed a bourbon and coke in front of Robert, something tall and red in front of Em, and was gone.
“This isn't what I ordered,” called Em quickly, but Robert was talking again.
“If you want to go...” he said.
“Robert,” said Em. “Stop worrying. I'm OK.” She looked at her drink and shrugged. What could it hurt?
The lights dimmed and the show began and as she watched Em raised the red coloured drink to her lips. The second the liquid touched her tongue Em's head snapped back and she sucked in a deep breath of air. She knew that flavour very well. She spun her head round to look at the barman. He was watching her with a wide grin on his face and a smug expression. He raised an eyebrow at her and tilted his head. It was an invitation, but Em only snorted.
She knew what he was now, and the doorman. Lower va
mpires, but with a considerable amount of dark matter in their beings. The type of creature that is created when one of the family devours most of a human soul and fills the rest with dark energy. Alina has been busy after all, thought Em. She looked back to the stage and recognized a few more vampires amongst the dancers. Two tables away from her a dark haired man raised his glass to her, and his date smiled at Em suggestively and then bit her lip, slowly.
It was clear they all knew who Em was, and, she thought, it was clear they knew her status too. There was a grudging respect in their sidelong glances, but there was also an overt sense of playfulness. Em had a pretty good guess as to what that was about. If Alina and her entourage could entice Em into their little bit of fun, then Em was less likely to tell her father where his latest concubine had run to. A good play, but a risky one. Em hadn’t exactly been daddy’s little girl, but when the lord of the family is jilted in so public a manner it didn’t take an idiot to realize he was going to reign hellfire on anyone found harboring his runaway wench. Alina was out of her mind, Em thought. Either stupider than Em had thought, or more arrogantly confident than was good for her.
On the stage a group of dancers crawled on all fours to the front of the stage in a tangle of bodies and black leather. One slapped a palm flat on the floor directly in front of Em and Robert and snarled like cat. She was a vampire, Em noticed. Yes, the setup here was so obvious now. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?
Robert glanced over at Em and lifted his eyebrows and smiled. He was enjoying himself, and he obviously hadn’t noticed Em’s little moment with her cocktail.
She raised her glass to her lips again and took a long drink. Shutting her eyes and revelling in the flavour she smiled a long, slow smile. Watching Alina fall was going to be so enjoyable. Em was looking forward to getting her own back on Alina for this appalling headache the wench had visited on her this week. What surprised Em was how much the drink had cleared her head. She felt fantastic now, and the pain in her temples was nearly gone.
She shifted her chair closer to Robert’s and leaned her body up against his. He looked down at her quizzically and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She kissed the line of his jaw just above his throat, then she turned her attention back to the rest of the show.
* * *
When the last of the girls trouped offstage and a glittering silver curtain had splashed down from the ceiling, the lights brightened slightly and the blonde waitress reappeared at their table.
“Will you come this way please?” she said gesturing to a doorway at the side of the stage. The doorman stood there, his black hat perched jauntily over one eye, his hands adding flourishes to the mock bow he performed to show the way.
Robert stood up. “Our tour!” he said. “I’d forgotten. Are you coming Em?”
Em had enjoyed the show and now her headache was gone she was relishing the prospect of meeting Alina again. Em and Alina had been battling each other for five centuries now, give or take a decade or so. This far from her father’s side, and plainly acting without his blessing, Alina was in a rare position of vulnerability. Em held all the cards and she was going to enjoy playing them nice and slowly.
They followed the doorman down a dingy hallway, and then exploded into a busy room dazzling with mirrors, lightbulbs, sequins, feathers and lots of tanned flesh. Dancers flung themselves out of costumers and squeezed themselves into new ones. Long legs, fake eyelashes, loosely buckled pants, big boobs and impossibly defined sixpacks. It was intoxicating, and the mix of human blood to dark matter seemed to be about half. Em found herself grinning despite herself. Robert looked like a kid at Christmas.
From across the room came a screech and a large figure with hair piled high, a gold lame gown and a fox stole came striding through the middle of the chaos. Dancers and dressers made room for her - she seemed to glide across the dressing room as if she had wings.
“Emiliaaaa,” the woman drawled. “Daarling.” And suddenly Em was engulfed in a bear hug. “It’s so delicious to see you, my dear. How long has it been? Two hundred years?” She threw Em out of her embrace and caught Robert’s eye. She laughed as if she’d made a fabulous joke. Robert smiled back, bemused. “And who is this, my darling? Don’t tell me you’re married?”
Em pushed back from the woman and stared. “Alina?” This was not the Alina she remembered. The Alina she knew was thin and pale and smiled only when her lord commanded it. This Alina had packed on a hundred pounds and … gold lame? Em was incredulous. She suddenly became aware of Robert staring at them both and realized she’d have to play along.
“Alina. It’s, erm, lovely to see you again,” Em managed. And then, regaining her composure, “I didn’t know you were in town.”
Alina’s eyes narrowed slightly. She allowed a flicker of dark energy to whisper out of her being and into the brightly lit room. Em did the same and their energies met in the space between their bodies and battled for a moment. It was over quickly. Alina didn’t seem to have the half the strength Em remembered her having, and Em had to reign her energy in sharply as Alina’s collapsed in seconds. Around them, the vampires in the room froze for a moment and stared at them, looks of hunger on their faces. The humans noticed nothing and in a heartbeat the moment was past.
“Of course I’m not married,” said Em loudly. “This is my boss, Robert Williams. You invited him here, Alina. Remember?”
Alina flung an arm expansively in Robert’s direction. “Of course I do. Our local forensic pathologist. I had the chief inspector here last week. One must always look after the authorities, don’t you think? Mr Williams, how did you enjoy our little show? Did you find it enticing? Did you find it entirely divine?” Leaving him no time to answer Alina called to a well muscled man standing close by watching. “Raoul, my darling, we promised the delightful Mr Williams a tour. Show him the sights, will you, and do take very good care of him.”
Raoul and Robert bustled away and Em and Alina stood staring at each other.
“What on earth are you doing?” said Em at last.
Alina shrugged. “I’m enjoying myself, darling. I’m living my life the way I want to.” She looked at Em slyly from under long rhinestone lashes. “Not unlike yourself, Emilia.”
“And what about your … staff?” Em burst out. She flapped a hand at the room in general. “How many creatures have you made, Alina? You know my father isn’t going to be happy about that. What do you think this is, a free for all?”
“ My employees?” said Alina, grinning around the room. “My permanent staff?” She lowered her voice and stepped closer to Em. “Oh, it’s just a few, Emilia my darling. A girl’s got to have her fun. And look at them. Aren’t they simply delectable? My vampires are hand picked - the best of the bunch. And it’s not as if they’re going to go around draining anybody, not that it would matter if they did. They’re all very well behaved.” She smiled as if this was a huge joke.
Em was stumped. This new Alina was the very last thing she’d expected. And given the woman’s quite obvious weakness, there seemed little point in the blood battle Em had recently been considering. She was a little disappointed, if she thought about it.
“There was a killing last week,” said Em hotly. “Three bodies, not far from here. What do your hand-picked permanent staff know about that?”
Alina’s smile shut off like a light.
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “You’re the crime scene investigator. You figure it out.”
Em gathered a small bolt of dark energy and was going to launch it at Alina when the older woman suddenly clapped her hands, all smiles again.
“You must meet some of my darlings,” she said ebulliently. “After all, Emilia, we are practically family.”
Alina hooked an arm through the elbow of the nearest dancer, a lithe woman in black leather hot pants and not much else other than tassels. “You know who this is, don’t you?” she asked the girl, indicating Em. The dancer looked at Em and an excited, predatory smile crossed h
er face. “We’re so honored by her presence - the daughter of the lord,” continued Alina. “Graced.”
Behind the dancer, a young man with a gorgeously sculptured torso snapped the elastic of one suspender belt against his chest and squeezed the ass of the girl in front of him making her jump, squeal and then melt back into his arms.
He purred at Em. “Thanks for … coming,” he said.
“Naughty,” said Alina, batting him with the tail of her foxfur. She turned to the other side of the dressing room. “Now this is who I want you to meet, Emilia. Come and meet Raeisa.”
Raeisa was a redhead decked out in a dress of green reptilian leather. When the girl turned around her deep green eyes glittered at Em and she stretched out a hand complete with long scaly fingernails that matched her dress.
“Raeisa is our star attraction,” drawled Alina putting a possessive arm around the redheaded girl's waist.
Raeisa leaned into Alina's embrace. Em wondered if she might disappear entirely into the folds of the larger woman's flesh, but Raeisa reached up and licked the side of Alina's face looking at Em all the time she did so. She smiled and revealed an impressive set of teeth. Too impressive. Em saw Alina freeze for the merest second, and then the woman burst back into character again hoisting that grotesque smile onto her face and shaking a finger at Raeisa.
“Isn't she sweet?” cooed Alina.
Sweet? thought Em. Alina was scared of this Raeisa, that much was obvious. But why? Raeisa wasn't a vampire. It was curious, but Em wasn't sure exactly what Raeisa was.
Em saw the redhead was still looking at her. Raeisa winked, and suddenly Em's headache pounded back into her skull. It was so fierce Em found herself blinking and frowning. She gave Raeisa a tight smile, turned back to Alina and put a hand to her forehead.