by Mac Flynn
"The location of the book facility," Vince reminded him.
Mitch tilted his head back and rubbed his chin. "Well, I don't really know the location myself, but I know somebody who probably does."
"We may probably not keep you safe if you cannot find the location for us," Vince quipped.
Mitch held up his hands. "Fine, fine, I'm really sure my source knows where the facility is, but the bigger problem is my source doesn't owe me any favors, so you'll have to think of some way of getting the info out of them. Oh, and a fair warning: my source doesn't take kindly to blackmail."
"Lead us to your source and we will deal with the problem of leverage," Vince ordered him.
"We're going to need your ride. It's uptown," Mitch informed us.
We returned to our vehicle and Mitch gave us directions to one of the side streets off a fashionable district. Clubs decked both sides of the road with their neon signs that flashed advertisements for dancing and ladies of the night. Crowds of people in bright clothes with dyed hair and sunglasses lined and walked the sidewalks searching for a few good memories to line their ordinary lives.
Mitch sat in the passenger seat while I was stuck between the men. Our guest rider pointed at an alley beside a four-story brick building with a neon sign advertising a snake. "There. Go into that alley and park in back," he directed Vince.
I looked at the sign as Vince turned us into the dark, narrow alley. "Immortal Reptile?" I read around.
"It refers to the legend that snakes shed their skins and stay immortal," Mitch explained.
The alley came out on a wide road in the center of the city block. A dozen parking spaces were on our left behind the Immortal Reptile, and Vince took the last empty spot. Mitch stepped out and we followed. He nodded at the rear of the building, and I noticed there was a wide metal-rung staircase that led downward to a thick metal basement door.
"The humans go through the front, but those in the know go to the basement," Mitch explained.
Mitch guided us down the stairs and he unlocked it with a thick, large black key. He opened the door and we got our first glimpse of the basement. The large, square, musty room held crates and empty boxes that were stacked to the ceiling. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and rats scurried to their hiding places. To our right was the stairs that led to the ground floor.
"Those poor human saps don't know what they're missing," I quipped.
Mitch walked over to the far left side of the basement where sat a pile of heavy-looking wooden crates. He turned to us with a grin. "No, they don't." Mitch rapped on the side of the stack of crates and the pile slid away from him to reveal another staircase. Bright, colorful lights erupted from the lower room and illuminated the basement. Mitch gestured to the stairs. "After you."
Vince led the way down the stairs and I followed close behind him. We reached the bottom and beheld a room the size of three city blocks. The room was built like a coliseum with large, circular tiers that led down to a center square platform. The tiers were ten yards wide except for the top on which we stood, and they dropped down six feet for each level. The top tier was twenty yards wide, and the rear walls were covered in slot machines. The tiers below the top held lounge chairs and dining tables, and the areas closest to the center platform were filled with row upon row of theater seats. Stairs connected each platform and allowed the clientele to move freely among each other.
The atmosphere was Bohemian in how everyone mixed with everyone else. At the slots people in suits sat next to hobos, and among the lounge areas were middle-class monsters talking to rich and poor alike. The only thing more unusual than the mingling was the clientele themselves. Every possible creature from more nightmares than I could dream were gathered here in this strange amphitheater of fun. There were harpies, mummies, skeletons, slug creatures, and a myriad of other nightmares. They slithered, crawled, walked, and flew around the coliseum like it was a football game and every tier was a new tailgate party. Every creature was represented but vampires. Besides Vince, I didn't notice any other pale face with red eyes.
What I did notice was that most of the attention in the coliseum was focused on the lowest tier. Atop the center platform sat a giant metal cage, and inside the cage I could just make out two individuals duking it out. The crowd in the seats yelled and screamed as their favorite or adversary fell or won in the square ring. The opponents growled and snarled at one another, and even from this distance I saw they weren't humans but large mythical creatures. One was a sphinx, and the other was a minotaur, and between them was a very bloody ring floor.
I jerked my thumb at the coliseum. "Is this legal?"
"No," Vince replied.
"But it's a hell of a lot of fun," Mitch spoke up. He nodded at the wall opposite where we stood. I could barely see a door guarded by a gruff-looking stone golem thing that stood in the closed doorway. "We need to get in there," he told me.
Mitch guided us around the perimeter of the coliseum and over to the guarded door. He smiled at the seven-foot tall golem, but the creature stared back at us with depth-less black eyes and his puffy rock lips pressed together in a perpetual frown. He wore only pants, and the lack of clothes showed off his rock muscles.
"We want to see Lamia," Mitch told the guard.
The golem's voice was deep and gravelly. "Do you have an appointment?" the guard asked Mitch.
"No, but I'm an old friend. You just tell her Mitch is here to see her," Mitch instructed him.
The golem half-turned and pressed his fat finger against a large button below an intercom. "Lady Lamia?"
"What is it?" a smooth, silky female voice answered.
"A man named Mitch wishes to see you."
There was a derisive snort. "Tell him he can't have the pleasure."
"Tell her Vincent wishes to speak with her," Vince spoke up.
His voice was loud and clear, and the golem held down his voice button when Vince made the suggestion. I heard a small chuckle from the other end of the line. "Well, well, if it isn't trouble himself. Let them in, Rocky."
Rocky released the button and stepped away from the door. The door slid into the wall and revealed a staircase that led fifty feet up to a landing, and at that landing was another doorway. The left wall held torches that were the only source of light in the narrow stairwell.
"Into the lair of the monster. . ." I heard Mitch mutter. He turned to us with an uneasy smile and gestured to the stairs. "Ladies first."
Chapter 9
I looked to Vince and nodded at the stairs. "You heard what the man said. Get up there."
Vince's eyes narrowed and he proceeded up the stairs. I followed, and Mitch was behind me. We reached the landing and I noticed an insignia of a coiled snake on the entrance. Vince knocked on the door. "Come in," called the female voice.
Vince opened the door and we were presented with a view of a snazzy office that sat three floors above the street and overlooked the fashionable human district. Humans strode beneath the large windows that stood opposite us, and between the door and the windows was a thick oak desk. On the other side of the desk in a high-backed black chair sat a beautiful woman of twenty-five with long flowing red hair and a sly smile. She wore a slim business suit and small, thin bangles around her wrists. The woman gestured to a few seats in front of the desk.
"Please have a seat," she offered.
Vince led us to the chairs, and I noticed the office had a large amount of plants on the left and right walls that was enough to create a humid climate. The temperature was also set to eighty degrees, and I tried not to fidget under the heat as we took our seats.
The woman leaned over the desk and set her chin on her clasped hands. Her eyes were focused on Vince. "It's been a long time, Vincent. You should visit me more often," she cooed.
My eyes flickered to him and I couldn't help when my lips pursed together. "Do you not know any of the ladies in this town?" I whispered.
"We're very old friends, he and I," the woman spoke up.
/>
"We came here to request your help," Vince told her.
The woman sighed and leaned back in her chair. "So I supposed, but what can I do for a detective?"
"Mitch tells us you may know where Ruthven's book manufacturing facility is located," he explained.
The woman raised an eyebrow and her eyes flickered to Mitch. Her tone added a slight hiss to her words. "Did he now? He should learn to keep his trap shut for once."
Mitch grinned and shrugged. "What can I say?"
"You can say nothing," she shot back.
"The deed is done, and we wish to know the location," Vince spoke up.
The woman folded her arms and shrugged. "But I don't wish to reveal that little secret. It's very valuable to me, and your asking for it just raised the price."
"To what?" he questioned her.
"Five million."
I choked on the number. "Five million? That's robbery. Who do you think you are?" I protested.
The woman set her hands palms-down on the desk and stood. And stood. And stood. She stretched up and revealed that below the waist her body was that of a snake. The tip of her tail slid along the side of the desk and slapped itself at me. Her long, lithe form towered four feet above us and she glared at me. "I am Lamia, little girl, and I don't care to take lip from some half-dead human masquerading as a supernatural," she growled.
I blinked at her. "Half-dead?" I repeated.
"We didn't come here to trade barbs. We don't have that money on us and we are short on time. Is there something we can trade you for?" Vince suggested.
Lamia scoffed and slid back into her chair. "What could you possibly offer me?"
"A favor for a favor," Vince replied.
Lamia turned her lip up in a snarl. "That's no way to run a business."
"Then what about a bet?" Mitch spoke up.
Lamia raised an eyebrow. "You have my attention."
Mitch nodded at Vince and me. "These two against your best fighter in the ring. No weapons of any kind, just brutal hand-to-hand combat."
Lamia slipped a slender finger across her chin for a moment. She nodded at Vince's ring hand. "What about his ring?" she pointed out.
"We'll consider that a part of himself like those lovely bracelets on your wrists," Mitch suggested. I took another look at the bracelets and started back when one of them unwound to reveal themselves as small, brightly-colored snakes.
Lamia petted the snake with her finger and it curled up again as a bracelet. Her sly smile slithered back onto her lips. "It's a deal. My best fighter against these two. If you win I will tell you the location of the facility, but if I win I get to keep Vincent as my plaything."
I stood so fast that I knocked my chair over and startled her tail. "Oh hell no! No deal!" I protested.
Vince stood and grabbed my arm. "There is no other choice," he insisted.
I yanked my arm from his grasp and gestured to Lamia. "It isn't worth you being a slave to a snake!"
"A snake?" Lamia growled.
"We will not lose," Vince argued.
"And if we do?" I countered.
Lamia laughed and stood. "Then I get Vincent all to myself, and judging by your reaction I'd say that would be the perfect revenge for your insult towards me. My victory will be even sweeter when you learn your opponent."
Mitch stood and positioned himself between me and the snake. All I wanted to do was strangle her thin neck and make her into a purse. "Easy there, ladies. Liz, you need to save your energy for the ring," he reminded me.
I pushed the murderous thoughts of a new handbag from my mind and marched out of the room. Vince followed while Mitch stayed behind for a while longer. I stomped down the stairs and stopped outside the door. The guard golem raised a rocky eyebrow at me. "What are you looking at?" I growled.
Vince saved me from a pounding as he swept down the stairs and grasped my upper arms. He led me away from the door and the golem that pounded its fist into its other large hand. "A moment, if you will," he requested.
I shrugged off his hands and spun around to glare at him. "What the hell was that back there? You're just going to give yourself up to that snake charmer up there?"
"We will not lose," he repeated.
"And what if we do lose, huh? Where am I at? Where are we at?" I argued.
Vince raised an eyebrow and his blood-red eyes scrutinized my face. "Where are we at?" he wondered.
I froze and blushed under his thorough gaze. "W-well, we're partners, and partners aren't supposed to leave each other. And-um-" My eyes flickered down to my wringing hands, and I held up my ring between us. "And besides that, we're stuck together, remember? Till death do us part. Well, sort of. And if you go off and be the slave of that-that thing up there then something bad might happen and-" Vince stepped up to me less than a foot in front of me and his nearness shut me up. I turned my face so I didn't have to look at him.
"Look at me," he demanded.
"I'm fine," I quipped.
Vince's cool fingers grasped my chin and he forced me to look at him. His glasses slid down his nose and his red eyes drilled into mine, but I didn't see any anger or annoyance in their depths. "This troubles you greatly."
"W-well, yeah," I agreed.
He slightly tilted his head and his half-lidded eyes raised their brows in question. "Why?"
"W-well, because it kind of affects me, too. I mean, it affects both of us and-" I froze when Vince's smooth fingers slid up to cup my cheek. My blushing skin warmed his and I was mesmerized by his beautiful, glowing eyes.
"Whatever emotions you feel for me are clouding your judgment. We have never lost, and we will not lose now," he persisted.
"But-"
"Liz, have faith in me," he pleaded.
My eyes widened. That was only the second time he'd spoken my name. His red eye pleaded for my approval. I pressed my lips together, but sighed and nodded. "All right, but if you get me killed I swear I'll beat the crap out of you in the nether world."
Vince smiled and let his hand slip from my cheeks. I missed the coolness of his fingers. "I will risk the punishment."
"Good, so where do we sign up to get ourselves killed by Miss Snake's champion?"
"Go down to the cage. Lamia's already already called down there and given instructions to stop the other matches and let you in," Mitch told us as he stepped from the stairway. There was such a gloomy, desolate expression on his face that I gulped.
"Who, or what, are we up against?" I asked him.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's something Lamia warned me on pain of death not to tell until you see for yourselves."
Vince set his hand on my shoulder and a small, sly smile slipped onto his lips. "Let us see the challenger."
I grinned. "Yeah, maybe I can improve my batting average with a two-to-zero streak."
We walked down the stairs that led to the bottom of the coliseum. Speakers around the facility crackled overhead and the voice of a male announcer boomed over the sound system. "The fight schedule has been changed. The fight between Sneezy Simian and Freddy Freuder will be held tomorrow, and in its place will be Vincent and Liz Stokes against a mystery challenger."
There was a collective gasp from the audience and the lights dimmed in the entire arena. We stopped and I cringed when a spotlight shone on us. Thousands of eyes turned on us and a great buzzing of exclamations and whispers arose from the onlookers. I glanced at Vince, but he stared straight ahead with his lips pursed together, the picture of stoic indifference.
"I'm guessing since they only used your first name that you're known to practically everybody," I whispered.
"A great many," he agreed.
Mitch got us going with a push down the stairs. "Come on, you two. Let's not let the nice people wait for your creaming."
I turned and glared at him as we made our way to the metal cage. "Thanks, Mitch. It's great to know you have that much faith in us."
Mitch shrugged. "Faith can move mountains, but
you don't need to move mountains in the cage. You need to perform a miracle."
We reached the lowest tier where sat the cage. A short flight of wooden stairs on opposite sides of the cage led to doors made of metal pipes. There was no other way to get in, or out, of the cage. A golem stood beside the bottom of the stairs, and when we the steps on the right the golem pressed a button behind him. The cage door swung open.
"Good luck. You'll need it," Mitch quipped.
I gulped, but Vince walked straight ahead and up the stairs into our doom-I mean, the cage. I followed, and when I stepped inside the cage the door swung shut behind me with a loud clang. The crowds hushed as the lights dimmed to nothing. Only those pointed at the ring remained on, and I sweltered beneath the heat. Vince stood as still as a statue, but I could tell he was tense.
I stiffened when the door opposite us swung open, but I couldn't see our challenger. The crowd collectively held their breath. Then I heard it. A strange swooshing noise as something soft swept against the hard ground of the stairs. In a moment a tall shadow rose above the bottom of the ring, and our opponent slithered into the ring.
It was Lamia herself, and she had the widest, most wicked grin on her face that I'd ever seen.
The crowd went wild to see the mistress of the ring actually in the ring. Vince stepped back and set his arm over me to push me behind him. "I'm guessing this isn't good," I whispered.
"No."
Chapter 10
Lamia's metal door clanged shut behind her and she raised her clawed hands in the air. The crowd cheered, and behind us I heard Mitch hiss under his breath. "I have a special treat for you, my precious clients," Lamia announced to the audience. They quieted to listen to her voice, and she gestured to us with one hand. "These fighters have challenged me to a duel not to the death, but to the finish. For those of you who do not know the rules, a duel to the finish is when one side admits defeat. If death occurs before one side admits defeat then-" she paused and shrugged, "c'est la vie."
The crowd roared with approval at her death-is-nothing attitude. She had the home team advantage, but we still had each other. "What's the best way to kill a snake?" I whispered to Vince.
"Not to let her know you're going to kill her," Lamia quipped from across the ring. Her twenty-foot long tail slithered in front of her and I noticed there were sharp, thick barbs that stretched to near the tip. "But I'm not here to play to the death. I want my little Vincent alive, or as alive as he ever is."